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are one.”
    He averted his eyes. I tossed my napkin on the table, stood.
    “What are you doing?” he asked. “We haven’t finished dinner yet.”
    “ You haven’t finished. I have.”
    “Have I said something to upset you?”
    “I just, I should go,” I said.
    “You’re angry.”
    “I’m fine.”
     “So, your arms crossed in front of your chest and the pissed look on your face, like you want to slap me isn’t the look of someone who’s angry?”
    “Do you want to know what I think?” I asked, hands pressed onto my hips.
    He leaned back in his chair. “I’d love to know what you think.”
    “You’re reaching out and pulling away at the same time. You like me, but you’re too caught up in whether I could like you back because of all the shit I’ve been through.”
    He made no argument, no attempt to deny it. “Fair assessment.”
    “ True assessment.”
    “Somewhat.”
    “I’m not made of glass,” I spat. “I wish everyone would stop treating me that way. I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m trying to learn how to live again, and I don’t need this ... this ... whatever this is.”
    “I like you.” He allowed his words to sit, marinate for a minute. “And yes, I have been wondering how long it would take before you decide to embrace the attraction you obviously feel for me.”
    The nerve.
    “Excuse me?”
    “No, I won’t excuse you. You wanted to talk feelings. Let’s talk.”
    “Are you always this blunt?” I asked.
    “If you mean honest, yes. I see no reason not to be.”
    Up to this point, he’d been poised, reserved. I couldn’t accept he felt anything more than pity for what I’d been through. Even if he did feel something more, I’d sworn off the idea of having a man in my life.
    “You don’t even know me,” I said. “Not really.”
    “I want to know you. And you want to know me. I know you’ve suffered. I’m not Damon. You will never have anything to fear from me.”
    “I’m not into one-night stands. Not anymore. I hated myself for it. I can’t do it again, and I won’t do it to you.”
    “Is that what you think I’m after? One night?”
    “What else could you possibly want?” I asked.
    He gripped me by my wrists, jerking me onto his lap, leaving me no choice but to straddle him.
    “I don’t want to—”
    “Yes, Sasha. You do.”
    He covered my mouth with a single, soft kiss. I arched my back, fighting an internal battle, warning myself of the consequences of submitting, giving in to him. This was risky. I was his client. I tried to resist, to push him back with my hand, but my limbs were limp, useless.
    Clarity surged through me. “I’m your client. Are we ... I mean ... can we ...?”
    “We’re just kissing.”
    “Yes, but, kissing can lead to other things.”
    “Tell me to stop and I will, Sasha.”
    Never before had my name been spoken with such impassioned desire. Logic and reason no longer registered. His mouth moved from my lips, kissing their way down to my neck. Every inch of me wanted to relax, wanted to live in the moment, but I couldn’t.
    I started to speak then jerked back, thinking I heard a sound behind me. And then ... slow, steady, claps.
    A sense of uneasiness gripped me as I broke from his embrace, realizing we were no longer alone.

Gideon’s eyes veered away from me. He released his lips from mine, his head turning to the side in slow motion. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe what was happening.
    “Gee, don’t let me interrupt,” the woman said.
    I poked my head around him, staring at the brunette standing at the entrance to the kitchen. I wondered how long she’d been standing there. Gideon had bolted the door behind me when I walked in, so who the hell was she, and how had she gotten in?
    Gideon rested his hands on my upper thighs like he was protecting me.
    “Who is she, and how did she get in your house?” I asked.
    “Yes, Gideon,” the woman giggled. “Same question.”
    She was