The Seduction

“You didn’t have to go that far with him,” I say, speaking of the beating he gave the other man. I lift Zach’s hand and blow gently on the battered skin, hoping to remove any dirt before I dab some cream onto a gauze pad.

“He shouldn’t have touched you,” he says in that tough voice.

“Why do you care?” I swallow my fear and ask the question that’s been lingering on my mind for weeks. “Why do you watch me but never sit at my station? Never talk to me?” Until tonight.

He hesitates. “Conflicting desires,” he finally says, the words a puzzle.

I look up, confused. I expect to see his green gaze on me, but he’s staring out the window into the dark night. I wonder what he means, what tears him up inside, but I don’t ask. It seems too personal, and if he wants me to know what he’s thinking or feeling, he’ll say.

I take in his strong profile, noting that even when he’s scowling, which is most of the time, he’s handsome, in a gruff, take-no-prisoners kind of way.

/> “You’re hot, Princess.”

I blink, surprised at his sudden admission. Embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

“I don’t like that dark parking lot. I kept an eye out until I knew you were safely in your car.”

Oh. My. Stalkerish or sweet? Maybe a little of both. I’m intrigued by him. I force my attention back to his hands and gently wipe the antibiotic cream onto his knuckles. Taking care of his injuries is the least I can do to repay him for saving me.

I lean down and blow on his hand again. His big body trembles, and I suppress a grin. I like knowing I can affect him too.

Finished with my lame attempt at first aid, I crumple the gauze in my hand.

“Just leave it. I’ll throw it out later.”

I manage a nod and get ready to leave. “I can wave from the doorway.” I gesture to the walk-up building where my friend lives. I’d texted her earlier to let her know I’d be coming. Too late, I realize I left my bag for the morning in my car. Nothing I can do about it now.

“Nope. Inside safe. That’s what I said, remember?” Before I can blink, he’s out the door and walks around to my side of the truck.

I push the door open, slide out, and allow him to walk me up the steps. He props an arm against the glass pane beside the doorway and stares at me with serious eyes.

“Thanks for the ride. And for the save.” I glance down because I sound like an idiot, but what do you say to the guy who— I don’t want to remember what he did to the jerk who accosted me. I’d rather just consider him my hero without thinking about the gory details. Or his intense reaction to my being attacked. Or the fact that he’d been watching out for me.

He tucks a finger beneath my chin and forces my gaze to his. “You okay?” he asks, his voice like sandpaper, gravelly as it scrapes over me, bringing a distinct sexual awareness with it.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“I’m glad. Now, think I can get your name?” he asks, those sexy lips tilting upward.

I grin. I can’t believe I demanded his and never gave mine in return. “Chloe,” I say as I ring the buzzer to Robin’s apartment.

He nods. “Pretty name.”

My skin prickles with awareness. He leans in close, his lips inches from mine. “Get inside safe, Chloe.” His breath tickles my lips, teasing me with his delicious scent. I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. Against all common sense or reason, I want him to.

The buzzer sounds to let me in before he gets the chance. He straightens and pulls open the door before I lose the opportunity to get inside. “Sleep tight, Princess.”

I shiver and step into the hallway. He walks away, and I watch until he’s at his car. Even his swagger is a turn-on. One thing I know, sleep is the last thing I’ll be able to do.

Chapter Two

I wake up on my friend’s couch the next morning. Robin has already left for work. It’s Saturday, and I don’t have classes, but I do have to study. And get my tires fixed. I have two choices. I can call AAA or BMW Roadside Assistance, but then my parents will find out since I’ll need a credit card and they’ll see the bill.

Or I can ask Sean to help me.

I choose Sean. He won’t tell my parents, and he’ll lend me the money for the tires and repair. I call. He’s curt and sounds busy, but he doesn’t rush me off the phone. I quickly explain my situation, omitting the part about being attacked in the lot.

“I’m sorry to bother you but—”