“Who are you?”

“Blake Alexander.”

When her blank stare continued, he clarified. “Henry’s grandson.”

Recognition lit her features, and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I wasn’t expecting you. Henry told me you lived in Oregon.”

“I do.” He nodded, then smiled at her, careful not to show too many teeth. He hoped he looked friendly, not frightening. This would have been so much easier if he’d been expecting to see her here. He suppressed an annoyed growl.

“I came down when I heard the news,” he continued.

She nodded. “The funeral was this morning.” She paused and sent him an expression meant to scold him for not being there. “It was very nice.”

He tried his smile again. “I didn’t come for that.”

If she’d been a cat, all the hair on her back would have stood up right then. “Oh?”

“No. I came to see you.” He tried very hard to keep his tone even. “Of course I didn’t expect to find you here.” He indicated the house in its entirety with one long sweep of his arm.

“You came to see me?” Apparently, it was so ridiculous it bore repeating. “What do I have that you could possibly want?”

“I want to find out what Henry was like from someone who knew him.”

He nearly cringed at the lie and hoped she couldn’t see through him. He’d never liked pompous old Henry in his pompous old houses with his pompous old advice—especially the advice.

“I’d be glad to tell you what I know.”

Blake nodded. She’d actually bought it. This was going to be easier than he thought. A little tug here, little push there, maybe even some seduction, and he’d have everything he needed from her. It might even be pleasant, which he affirmed as he took another discreet glance at her legs.

“So shall we discuss it over dinner?”

Karma’s question ripped Blake from his thoughts. A little forward of her to ask him on a date the first time they’d ever met each other. He liked it.

Lindsey Ferrell thought the recurring nightmare was bad enough. Then she acquired a stalker and her life turned upsidwe down. Security specialist Nick Vanetta needed to keep his mind on business to protect Lindsey and find her stalker, But the green-eyed beauty distracted him just by being there. Was giving in to the intense sexual attraction a mistake for love ‘em and leave ‘em Vanetta? And how would ti affect both of them when the shocking truth about the stalker was revealed?

“One of these days that temper is going to get you in real trouble.  You’re lucky I’m such an easygoing guy.”  He grinned at her.  “We can go to the Central Market later and lay in some supplies for when we stay here.  Meanwhile, let’s slip out the side door and go grab something.  I’ve got someone keeping an eye on the office while we’re gone.”
“All right, but nothing fancy like yesterday.  Just a sandwich.  Anyway, I don’t need too many top dollar meals showing up on the expense account.”
His hand tightened on her arm and he yanked her around to face him.  His eyes, which normally gleamed like blue fire, now looked like ice trapped on the bottom of the ocean.  “When I ask someone out to lunch, it comes out of my pocket,” he said through his teeth.  “Yesterday I entertained a client.  Today we’re just stoking the engine. Do you have a preference?”  He released her arm, his jaw set in a stubborn line.
She dragged up a smile.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  Schilo’s.  I could really go for one of their corned beef sandwiches.”
Schilo’s, a German delicatessen, had become a favorite of long standing with city residents with its mouthwatering sandwiches, homemade soups and great sausage plates.  The place was always crowded with a mixture of business people and tourists. She hoped they could find a table.  If not, they could always take their lunch back to the apartment with them.
“Let’s go, then.”
Nick made her do all the security steps from the office to the apartment and then out into the hall.  She did everything faultlessly, all but smirking at him when she set the final alarm code.
“Didn’t think the dumb blonde trust fund baby could do anything so complicated, did you.”  She stomped away from him down the corridor and punched the button for the elevator.  He barely made it in before the doors closed. 
“I have already apologized for my remark.”  His teeth were gritted.  “Careful, or I’ll take you over my knee and spank you.”
She glanced over at him and felt that electrical charge again.  They were lucky the elevator stopped on another floor to let people on. 
They walked the three blocks to Schilo’s in tense silence. 
Why does he make me so prickly? she thought.  Why do I always feel like I have to prove something to him?  I’ve got to stop acting like a teenager trying to hide her first crush.  This is so totally absurd.
As they stood at the corner waiting for the light to change someone shouted Nick’s name and he turned away. At that exact moment Lindsey felt a hand against her back shove her forward just as a big VIA bus came lumbering around the corner.  The fender brushed against her knee, nearly knocking her under the wheels.  A steely hand gripped her arm and yanked her back roughly.

Lindsey opened her mouth and screamed.

“I don’t shoot men in cold blood.”

She lifted her head and looked at him, finding a focus for her anger and frustration. “But you do shoot them, don’t you.”

“They can leave. I’ll give them the choice.”

A choice. He would give them a choice. Meanwhile, he gave her no choice whatsoever. She shook her head at the irony. She remained his unwilling captive, subject to his whim and command. And just moments ago he’d proven he wouldn’t hesitate to manhandle and threaten to keep her under his control.

Well, by God, she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.

Dropping her arms to her sides, she marched toward him. Rage, fiery as the sun overhead, burned to cinders her last shred of caution.

She recognized the calculated, measuring gleam in Rane’s eyes. He doubtless expected her to let fly at him with a tongue-lashing.

She had something much more satisfying in mind.

When she was two feet away from him, she halted, clenched her teeth, and swung at his smug face.

Swift as a striking snake, he caught her wrist only inches from his cheek.

His lightning reflex stunned her. She hesitated a heartbeat before she lashed out with her other hand, only to have it captured like the first in his unyielding grip.

She struggled and jerked against his hold, too furious to give in. He held her easily and that angered her even more. Her wrists burned in his relentless grasp by the time she finally settled, breathing hard, seething with pent-up violence that begged for release.

Mere inches separated them. She tilted her head, and his ragged breath cascaded over the edge of her jaw. A spark of…exactly what, she couldn’t guess, gleamed in his dark eyes. One side of his lips quirked into the little smirk she’d come to recognize. She knew he intended it to be ugly, but it still jolted her heart off-kilter.

“You bastard!”

“So, the wildcat shows her true face at last,” he drawled.

She’d show him wildcat. She opened her mouth to scream.

He jerked her forward, crushing her breasts against his chest. Shock raced through her and sucked away her breath. She tried to pull back, only to have him swoop in and plant his mouth on hers.

Her intent—thoughts of screaming, escape, hurting him—all shattered into sparkling fragments and scattered on the wind. The entire universe suddenly narrowed to one focus: his lips grinding against hers.

At first, he just held her like that, in a bruising crush meant to smother her cries. Then it changed. His mouth opened over hers, hungry and commanding. She felt the knotted tension in his body, the rapid-fire bursts of his breath against her cheek.

She had wished for this.

Only a few times in her life had she been kissed, and never with such unrestrained, savage urgency.

Her fevered blood responded. She opened her mouth to him, and he swirled inside with a low moan trapped in his throat. Unable to resist, her tongue joined with his in a slow, sinuous dance. Tension gripped her body and sent her straining toward him, seeking his male hardness as though pulled by a magnet.

Her clinging hands smoothed over the corrugated planes of his ribs. She didn’t know when or how it happened, but he had released her wrists at some point. His arms were now wrapped around her, one hand spread against the small of her back, holding her so close only the fabric of their clothing separated them.

But, not close enough. The wondrous thrust and glide of his tongue, the slow stroke of his hands, the hard pressure of his thigh crowded between her legs demanded even more. A sweet, achy sensation tightened her breasts and pooled low in her belly.

The newly turned out Miss Evangeline Clayton, lately of New York, where she’d spent two grueling years learning to deport herself like a lady and the proper way to deter a gentleman’s unwanted advances was helpless to defend herself against the disreputable gunfighter’s scandalous assault on her senses.

Worst of all, she wished he’d never stop.