She'd been fascinated by the man the second she'd spotted him milling about the lawn, taking candid photos of the wedding guests prior to the ceremony, pounds of heavy-looking camera gear slung around his neck and shoulders. He seemed dark and mysterious. Exotic. Languid and sexy, despite all the equipment. He had reminded her of a panther, sleek and dark, as he moved across the grass.

Dr. Larry Garrison he was not.

Ginger did not reach for his hand. She knew that if she did, there would be no turning back, that despite her above-average qualities, she would get sucked into the languid and sexy orbit of this dark-eyed panther man. And she couldn't possibly do that, because she was done being a fool. She was sick of being hurt. Besides, she had boys to raise, an ex-husband to rehabilitate, and a career to rescue.

Now was not a good time.

Lucio let his hand drop again. I cannot blame you, bonita. When it comes to men it is always smart to err on the side of caution, and I see you are a very smart woman.

Ha! Now that was a word Ginger had not applied to her personal life in a long while. In recent years she'd come to doubt not only her intelligence but also her basic good judgment. In college, her mantra had been Follow your bliss. These days it was What the hell were you thinking?

Ginger knew that if she were truly smart, she wouldn't have come out here to talk to Lucio. She wouldn't be standing here next to him in the low light of evening, aware of the closeness of his body, the scent of his skin, the weird energy bouncing around between them. If she were smart, she would have stayed away from him entirely. If she were smart, she would have ordered a size six bridesmaid's dress and avoided this entire dilemma.