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I’ll be policing these people . A surreal thought. Noelle had always been the troublemaker. So, arresting others for breaking the law? Kinda seemed wrong.
    Maybe that’s why Hector kept pushing her so intently. Maybe he doubted her capability and integrity,as she’d first assumed, and thought to mold her into something better.
    You don’t need improvement .
    And you’re not thinking about him .
    Deep breath in, filled with the scents of corn dogs—her mouth watered—car exhaust and perfumes, as well as faint traces of dirt and … other things. Towering lamps lined the streets, and the shop signs pulsed. Live Nude Girls. World’s Best Coffee . A Toys R Us right beside a Hooters. The moon was full, a shining beacon of gold.
    “Hey, darlin’,” someone called. “How much for an hour?”
    He better not be talking to me .
    “Hey, you, in the red shorts. I’ll take whatever you’re selling, no matter the price.”
    Yep. Me . The only clothes she’d had were for working out. Right now she sported a red tank and matching too-tight shorts. Streaked by dirt as she was, she probably looked like she spent a lot of time on her knees and back. Plus, her hair was tangled, as if someone had plowed their fingers through one too many times.
    Someone had, of course, but that someone was her.
    Noelle didn’t bother searching for the guy, just threw a finger in the direction of his voice and kept walking.
    “Bitch!”
    His friends snickered.
    Yeah, yeah. Took her fifteen minutes, but she finally found a candy store. A bell chimed above the door when she entered. Ava would flip out of her mindwhen Noelle presented her with a butterscotch breakfast in bed.
    Stray thought: Who served Hector breakfast in bed?
    Noelle’s teeth ground together sharply. The answer didn’t matter. Hector was her instructor, nothing more. Not once had he ever acted as if he found her attractive.
    “Can I help you?” the guy behind the counter asked.
    She sized him up with a single glance. Human. Late forties. Comb-over, sugar gut. He wore a white apron and earned major points for cleanliness.
    The store itself was small, with three display cases and nothing in the way of furniture. Definitely needed a new business manager. There were no couches for customers to sit on so they could chat and eat more and more of the candy. No tables offering samples and free alcohol to encourage unwise spending, as she was used to.
    “What do you have in the butterscotch department?” she asked.
    “Not much.” He thumped a finger on the glass at his right, just above a plate of what looked to be fudge squares. “Just these.”
    “I’ll take them.”
    One of his brows winged into a stray lock falling down his forehead. “One or—”
    “All.”
    Cash signs practically glowing in his eyes, he got to work, wrapping the squares individually and stacking them carefully in a small box.
    The bell over the door gave another chime. Theserver glanced up, said, “I’ll be with—” then snapped his mouth closed and gulped with apprehension. His bloated cheeks paled. “Uh, just a second, please.”
    Robber? Thug? Noelle spun around—and came face-to-face with her tormentor.
    Hector Dean stood in the doorway, wearing a black T-shirt that molded to his muscles and black slacks that hugged his thighs indecently. He scowled over at her, his golden eyes glittered brightly. His arms were folded over his chest, and his legs braced apart, as if he meant to leap into an attack at any moment.
    Oh … shit.

Four

    N OELLE,” HE SAID TIGHTLY , his voice full of gravel.
    “Hector.” What did it say about her that she was aroused rather than scared? He looked capable of murder, his hard features cold and merciless, but damn if he wasn’t sexy as all hell.
    Maybe because he wasn’t yelling at her.
    Yet.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
    “Buying a few sweet treats.” Her heart sped into a too-swift rhythm. I will not come on to him . “How did you