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They're the black sheep–the bad boys every good girl wants to have hold her, touch her, take her, love her. . . "I have some spare beer, if you're interested. . ." I'd know that voice anywhere, and every time I hear it, it makes me sweat. If you saw Donovan MacLeod, trust me, you'd need a change of clothes, too. It's been eighteen years, but he's got the same cocky swagger, silver-gray eyes, and sexy smile that promises a whole lot of trouble. Not that I'll ever find out because he loathes me–thinks I'm some spoiled princess. So, there's something I've just got to ask. . . "Why are you here, Donovan?" Well, Kate Sutherland, how about, I've fantasized about you for eighteen years? Or, I wanted to remember how it feels to need a cold shower every time you flick that perfect blond hair out of your blue eyes? Yeah, good answers, but truth is I came back to help, because I think you're in for some trouble. My bad-boy gut says you're gonna need me–in more ways than one. . .