5

"I couldn't help but notice that everything you had to eat was either frozen, prepackaged, or came in single servings. Having grown up in a big family, I never ate that way. There wasn't anything fresh either, and we always keep fresh food on hand to eat."

I stood there stunned, wondering how this man could possibly know anything about what I ate. I squinted and folded my arms over my chest.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Last night I filled your kitchen for my Al-, for Mr. Latro, because he was worried you had nothing to eat. He was concerned about your safety too, since your driving isn't the greatest."

"Who is Mr. Latro?" was the only thing my mind could produce

Saul arched an eyebrow, let out a sigh, and said, "You ran into him a few nights back at Luna Ferus, and from what I've been told, he's not an easy man to forget. The two of you had a brief but memorable encounter at the restaurant."

"You're talking about the guy from the ... restroom?" I asked in a soft voice.

"That's right, the man from the restroom," he replied.

"So why are you here?" I asked while lowering myself into one of the chairs lined up against the wall

"I come across as completely harmless; he figured this was the best way to make contact with you. Mr. Latro suspected you'd freak out if he approached you at your job. You come across as somewhat overly sensitive. He would have spoken with you last night, but you had taken something and couldn't be woken up. He was deeply worried and stayed by your side the whole night."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on - I've got an alarm, I've got door locks, so how did you get inside my house and ... and stay with me," I managed to stammer out.

The only reply I received was a shrug. "In any case," Saul said, "He would like to take you out to lunch, so you two can talk. Don't take too much time, he tends to get impatient."

I remained in my chair, simply staring at the man as he slipped off the table and headed toward the door. He paused and studied me briefly, then turned and walked out of the exam room.

I stayed in my chair a few more minutes, until I heard the medical assistants out in the hall. My medical assistant, Madonna, poked her head in and glanced around, "Hey, if you're finished, that was your last patient before lunch. We're finishing EARLY," she said with a bright smile. "I figured he was here for a physical, I wish they were all that fast. Hey, what's going on with you? You look as though you've seen a ghost!" Her cheerful manner dimmed slightly, and she appeared genuinely concerned.

"No, I'm just hungry, and I believe I left my wallet at home. Head to lunch, I'll see you back here at one," I forced a smile and rose from my chair.

I picked up my laptop and carried it back to my office. I suppose the vase of lilies sitting on my desk should have caught me off guard, yet all I felt was a haze.

Walking out of my clinic had always carried a certain significance. The area was a rough section of the city. With any luck, you avoided stepping into a drug deal or being approached by one of the homeless merely asking for a dollar. On this day, I would have traded anything to have those men around.

The men waiting for me outside the door today struck me as considerably more threatening. While I slept, they had been inside my house. They had found me following a strange sexual encounter at a restaurant. I had the option to decline going with them, but doing so appeared pointless. I breathed slowly, fighting off the panic.

Saul stood there, leaning casually against one of the columns. A second, bigger man rested against the column on the other side. Their outfits were almost identical: dark polo shirts paired with slacks. What I thought was unusually chilly weather didn't appear to bother either of them. Compared to Saul, the new man had lighter, shorter hair. He was also more solidly built, and he appeared deeply focused on the drug dealers loitering at the corner of the building.

"Hey, Nate, she's here, let's go," Saul said, motioning me to follow them toward a dark Suburban that sat across two spaces in our lot. Because the windows were so heavily tinted, I couldn't make out who was inside. That only deepened the fear I felt.

As I passed between the two men, Nate at last broke his silence and expressed his irritation.

"I don't like the people out here, they're desperate, all of them. This place offers her no safety."

The remark was strange, and unsettling would be an understatement. It felt as though they were standing in a grocery store that failed to meet their standards. I fired back at him, "Out here, people do whatever it takes to stay alive. You all are the only ones who have ever given me grief."

The way I said it may have come out unsteady, but I felt like pushing back a bit.

Saul burst out laughing while Nate merely snorted, swinging open the rear passenger door of the Suburban and motioning for me to climb in. I had no idea what to expect, yet it caught me off guard all the same. Mr. Tall and Dark was already seated back there, otherwise known as Mr. Latro.

"Elizabeth, thank you for having lunch with me today," he said, smiling

"Thank you for the invitation," slipped out of my mouth automatically as I sat down.

Suddenly it hit me why Mr. Latro hadn't been the one to approach me at the clinic. My expression went rigid and I couldn't pull my gaze away from him. A beat too late, I noticed I was gasping for air and attempted to breathe steadily. Nate took the front passenger seat beside the driver, though I hardly noticed. My excitement was so intense that I'd started sweating cold.

All at once, the scent I'd been pursuing all week enveloped me. I coughed softly and tried to look elsewhere, but I still couldn't. The instant I climbed into the vehicle, my thoughts had fallen apart. Nothing else occupied my mind except the gorgeous man sitting in the other seat. His skin looked even finer than I recalled, and all I wanted was to stretch out my hand and caress him. I failed to notice when the SUV exited the lot.

I struggled frantically to get a grip on myself once more. A faint smile crossed Mr. Latro's face as he leaned in and clasped my hand. He began tracing gentle, calming circles across my palm. His touch appeared to calm the panting that I still could not bring under control.

"Where are we headed?" I asked, waking from my daze and recalling that I had just climbed into a car with people I didn't know.

"The Club has a reservation waiting for us, and I'm certain you'll find something to your liking there," Mr. Latro said. "Did you get a good night's sleep?" he inquired, his smile tense.

"I believe you know precisely how I slept!" I shot back at him, my cheeks burning. In a single moment, my unruly feelings flipped from excitement to fury. What nerve, to ask me that after forcing his way into my home.

The deep rumble in his chest was probably a chuckle, yet it caused both men up front to look back.

Without warning, I realized I was seated across his lap, my face mere inches from his. He appeared annoyed, though he still looked rather delectable.

"You really shouldn't take anything that leaves you that drowsy—it isn't safe. Do you take that sort of thing often?"

"I use sleeping pills, Mr. Latro, whenever I'm stressed and anxious and convinced I'll never manage to fall asleep. Such as when somebody drags me into a bathroom stall for ... reasons," I shot a look at the front seat and stumbled, then picked back up, "or out of nowhere knows my name or has the police tailing me. For the record, I never imagined I'd be such entertaining company last night after going to sleep in my own bed!" My voice had climbed to a crescendo that Pavarotti himself would have been proud of as I looked straight into his eyes. They were blue grey, I noticed, and quite pleasant to look at.

The low growl coming from deep in his chest was most certainly not a laugh this time. "No more pills. They're bad for you," he declared with finality, "and please, call me Joel."

I simply stared straight into those gorgeous eyes, "I'll take whatever I damn well please. I don't know you. I don't know why I'm here with you, and if I'm not mistaken, this is the first real conversation I've ever had with you. I refuse to have you ordering me around. You don't even know me ... "

I would have finished with 'asshole' if his mouth hadn't suddenly crushed mine. Those warm lips pressing against mine, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth, asking to come in. Hell no. I would have kept my mouth shut, but his hand was suddenly gripping the inside of my thigh and I gasped. He slid his tongue between my lips and I was powerless to stop him. His other hand went to the back of my neck, holding me firmly in place.

The hand that rested on my thigh slid upward across my stomach to my clothed breasts, where it began to knead them gently through the material. Slowly, he swept along the underside, pressing his thumb firmly across the nipple. I truly wanted to resist him, and I meant it, yet every place his touch landed made me feel as though I were burning.

I pressed myself up into his hand and clutched his shoulders, pulling him nearer. When he began to tug at one nipple and then the other, I let out a moan against his mouth. This appeared to encourage him, and his hand traveled back down to the inner side of my legs, which were now parted a little. I found it hard to accept that I was reacting to him.