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refused to wrap herself up in his compliment. She’d never had compliments before. Not ever. Not personal. About her coffee maybe, but not like this. She couldn’t remember anyone being so fun. She’d had her first kindness from Malcom. Now she had her first best time with a man. She couldn’t keep him, but she could have the memories, and when she was alone, then she’d wrap herself up in his compliments and savor them.
    The warehouses loomed on the next block. They turned the corner and crossed the street, angling toward the center one. It looked old from the outside. Old and tired. A single light illuminated a heavy door. There were three cargo doors, all padlocked. Ridley scowled at them.
    “You didn’t tell me about the time you were followed. I’m still waiting to hear that story.”
    She snuck a peek at his face from under her lashes. He was like a dog with a bone. She hadn’t distracted him at all. She sighed. Loudly. “Seriously, Ridley, it isn’t important.”
    “That’s bullshit, Cat, and you know it. You’re scared of something. It’s not all that hard to tell. You walk everywhere, which means you don’t want to drive your car…”
    “It doesn’t mean that,” she hissed. She stabbed at the number pad a little viciously, punching in the code to unlock the door. “Gas costs money.”
    She was horrified that she blurted out the truth. It was just that he had such an edge to his voice, as if he knew all about her. She wasn’t doing her best job of running him off and she knew it was because she was lonely and he made her feel alive. Okay, happy even. There, she’d admitted it to herself. But it had to stop. She paused before she pushed open the door, her hand on the doorknob.
    “Thanks for walking me home. I can take it from here.” She used her best dismissive voice. She’d had a lot of practice using that particular tone, and it was one of her best weapons. It didn’t even faze him. He kept moving, crowding her, pushing her inside.
    “Ridley. Seriously. You did the white knight thing. We’re good.”
    “We’re not good. What kind of man would let you walk into a warehouse without checking it out first to make certain you’re safe?” His hands settled on her waist and he picked her up, stepped inside and put her to the side of the door. “You stay right there.”
    It was pitch-black inside, the way it always was. She had heavy drapes on all the windows to block out every bit of light so she could sleep during the day. That didn’t seem to faze him, although he swore under his breath as he took a careful look around.
    “Light switch?”
    For some reason, she thought he had a super power and could see in the dark. Maybe it had been the slow, careful perusal of the empty space, but she just stood there, not breathing, waiting for something, her heart pounding and her mouth dry.
    “Kitten.”
    He just said one word. But it was his voice. How he said it. The gentle, amused tone. She felt his voice slide in under her skin, slip into her bloodstream and rush straight like an arrow for her most feminine core. She hadn’t expected it.
    Instantly there was heightened awareness. She smelled him. That faint masculine, almost wild smell, mountains and jungles and maybe a rain forest or two. He was so solid, all flowing muscle, his shoulders wide and his hips narrow. He moved with fluid grace, and heat radiated off of him, enveloping her.
    She stepped back from his sheer potency. His hand instantly went to her waist, slid to settle on her hip.
    “Catarina, I’m just going to make certain you’re safe.”
    Thank God he thought she was frozen with fear, not flooded with female hormones at the worst possible moment. She cleared her throat, trying to get past the unfamiliar hunger rising like a tidal wave. The itch under her skin was terrible. It came in a wave, rising and falling, and deep inside something she feared above all else gave a lazy stretch, making its presence known.
    She stepped