crunch of metal jarred his SUV. He slammed on the brake and jammed the gear into Park, then bolted outside eyeing a car embedded in his back quarter panel, the shiny black paint gouged and buckled against the woman's dark red sedan. She glared at him from the driver's window, her eyes narrowed as determination set in her jaw. She pushed open her car door with a dramatic sweep, stepped out and slammed it. "Look what you've done." Her arm swung toward the damage. Shattered glass from the taillight dotted the asphalt, and her trunk lid had sprung loose from the lock. Trying to monitor his frustration, he shook his head. "It wasn't my fault. I checked my mirrors." He peered back at her. "More than once." Yet in the back of his mind, he knew he'd been distracted by his thoughts. Could he have been careless? She bustled closer. "Do you think I don't check my mirrors?" "I have no idea, but?" Seeing tears collecting in her eyes, he felt less inclined to argue. "Are you okay?" He skimmed her frame, noticing beyond her distraught expression how attractive she was. Her eyes snapped from him to her sedan. "I'm fine, but I can't be without a car, and if I report the accident, my insurance rates will go up. I can't afford?" Words rushed from her like air from a pricked balloon. Once she recovered, she waved her hand in the air. "Never mind. It's not your problem." She