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realized what he’d said. Alarmed, she said, “Then we have to help Monica.”
    He halted. “Monica can’t be saved. It’s too late for her, Emmy. And you must never see her again.”
    She waved her hand in dismissal of the foolish thought. “Why should I believe you? She sells housewares in the same store where I’m the bookkeeper. Saleswomen don’t become murderer’s groupies.”
    “While I’m sure there was a speck of logic somewhere in all that, I’m telling you the truth.”
    “I don’t believe you. She’s my friend.”
    “For the love of…” Dylan’s hands clenched at his sides. “She’s not the same girl. Nicky’s changed her.”
    Emmy felt her lower lip push out, and sucked it back in quickly. How would he ever see it her way, if she acted like a child? “Even if it were true, Monica would never hurt me.”
    Dylan threw his hands up. “Fine. Have it your way.”
    Emmy was a little disappointed Dylan had conceded so quickly. “Great.” At least he’d quit ragging on Monica.
    “Get dressed,” he said, his tone brooking no dissent.
    Ruffled by his curt tone, Emmy lifted her chin and knelt to retrieve her clothing. After patting the ground without results, she relented and looked at the floor. She gathered her clothing, then glanced at Dylan.
    His arms were crossed over his chest and he was completely dressed. “Do you need help?”
    She wondered how he’d dressed so quickly. “I’ve been putting my own clothes on for twenty-odd years now. I think I can manage.” Only she was so irritated, she put her panties on inside out.
    A single raised eyebrow mocked her.
    “I did that on purpose.” She slid her skirt over her hips and sucked her breath in to close the zipper at her waist, then she lifted her bustier and let it dangle from the end of her finger. When he didn’t take the hint, she cleared her throat. “It would go faster if you laced it up for me.”
    Dylan cupped a hand to his ear. “I didn’t quite hear you. Were you asking for my help?”
    “You might be God’s gift in the fucking department, but I can see why there’s no girlfriend lurking in the shadows—you are a Grade A asshole!” She threw the black velvet bustier at his head and stomped toward the door, hand outstretched to the brass knob.
    He slammed into her back, pinning her to the door. “You’re completely mad,” he said, his voice tickling her ear. “And what a temper. There’s not a woman in this building who would brave my wrath.”
    “Of course, I’m mad.” His body enveloped hers, making her feel incredibly small and helpless. “You’d drive a saint to commit murder. Besides, I’m not afraid of you.”
    Something warm and wet glided over the top of one shoulder.
    “No fair,” she complained, but she turned her head away to bare her neck. He had the most amazing tongue, slightly rough like a cat’s.
    “I know,” he said, his tongue flickering over her skin to slide toward her ear. “You’re having a perfectly good pout, and I’m ruining it.”
    “Yes, you a—” Her breath caught when is hands caressed the sides of her breasts where they were mashed against the door.
    He shifted slightly away, and his hands moved around to cup them fully. “We could just stay here.” His voice dropped to a low purr. “I could play with your breasts, since I didn’t really have a chance to do them justice before.”
    Emmy moaned and rubbed her ass against his groin. “I’d love to, but I have to work in the morning. I should head home.”
    “Then I’ll make sure you get home safely.” He removed his hands and lifted his body away from hers.
    Immediately, Emmy missed his weight. She turned to face him and leaned back to let the door to support her wobbly legs. “Because of Monica?”
    “And her boyfriend—Nicky.” He lifted his hands, his palms framing her face. “I’m not asking you to put your faith in me. I’m just asking you to allow the possibility they mean you harm.”
    Reluctant to