CHAPTER ONl<br >A dew pearl glistened on a crimson rose petal as the bright sun<br >streaked through the last remnants of morning fog. Moisture lingered<br >on the grass in the rose garden of San Francisco s Golden Gate Park.<br >A bulky khaki jacket， worn baggy jeans， an Oakland A s baseball cap，<br >and heavy high-top work shoes gave the individual examining the<br >multihued roses the appearance of a gardener.<br > The serenity suddenly shattered with the explosion of a bicycle tire<br >blowing out. Seconds later intense hazel eyes beneath the bill of the<br >baseball cap observed the striding mak~ figure dressed in a black skin-<br >tight cyclist s outfit， glistening satiny in the brilliant sun， reflecting the<br >presence of strongly proportioned muscles beneath. He stood about an<br >inch over six feet， his reddish auburn hair appeared damp and matted<br >down where protective headgear had covered it. The removed helmet<br >had been left with the ten-speed bicycle.<br > "That your pickup truck parked over there?" the man called， his<br >flashing green eyes radiating concern as he quickly examined his wrist-<br >watch.<br > "Belongs to my brother." Early morning huskiness made the tones<br >sound somewhat like the changing voice of a pubescent boy.<br > The broad-shouldered man wiped his brow as he strode nearer.<br >"How about doing me a favor? Just blew a tire on<br >could use a lift somewhere to have it repaired. I l<br >your trouble." Streams of perspiration slid down<br >sensually handsome face.<br >ny ten-speed and I<br >gladly pay you for<br >he contours of his<br > Vibrant hazel eyes briefly scanned the athletic figure. "Guess I can."<br > "I m due at the office in an hour，" he said， now forcing a more<br >congenial smile. "At least if I make it to a gas station I can call in and<br >let them know I ve been detained."<br > "Okay. Come on."<br > "How s it happen you have your brother s truck?" he asked in an<br ><br >