“You going to lock this door?” He paused at the door, turning his head to stare at her over his shoulder, a small grin hovering around his mouth, lighting his eyes.

“It locks automatically.”

He nodded and sauntered out. It took her a full three minutes before she was breathing correctly again. She had no idea what just happened or how she was supposed to feel about it, so she did what she always did, she lost herself in her regular routine.

3

THE buzz was persistent. Really persistent. Annoyingly so. Catarina groaned and rolled over, her hair falling around her face, spilling across the pillow and covering her eyes and nose. The stupid buzzer blasted through the warehouse, as if someone leaned on it. It wasn’t designed to be musical. It was loud and sounded like an alarm. She put the pillow over her head and held it there in hopes of drowning out the noise, but apparently, whoever had owned the warehouse before Malcom had been totally deaf.

“All right,” she yelled, throwing the pillow and fighting her way out of the covers. She kicked several times, destroying her perfectly made-up bed, and sat up, sweeping back the mass of dark, wavy hair. It was everywhere. She looked around vaguely for a clip to tame the thick length, but the buzzer persisted, louder than ever.

“Seriously?” she muttered, and leapt to her feet, stalking through the warehouse to the front door. She flung it open, scowling ominously with blurry vision. “Are you crazy? It’s like three o’clock in the morning.”

Ridley stood there. Tall. Looking amazing. Refreshed and looking amazing. Seriously hot and amazing. “You. Are. Nuts.” She tried to close the door in his face.

He stuck his boot in the door. “Step back, Kitten, I’m coming in and I’ve got my hands full.”

He pushed open the door, and she pushed back. He was stronger, so the door swung his way. She clenched her teeth and stepped back, allowing him entry. He was carrying boxes and bags, which meant his hands were tied up.

“Cat, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like you don’t have two of your weapons and I could kick you in the thigh very hard and give you a dead leg? Like that? And then do a sweep and take both your legs out from under you? Am I giving you that kind of look? And then roll your body right out my front door? Because I’m contemplating how much of an effort that would be.”

His mouth twitched. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Of course, because you’re the most annoying man on earth, I’d have to find the wire to cut that buzzer and stop it from ever working. You’re the type that would just lay on it and wake a girl up when she just went to bed.”

“I always say dream big if you’re going to do it,” he said, not in the least bit worried. “And it’s not three in the morning, baby, it’s more like nine.”

He stared down at her from his lofty height, which only annoyed her more.

“You walked me home again last night. You know when I got to bed. This is my three o’clock in the morning.” When he didn’t turn and leave, she threw her hands in the air and then had to shove again at the wild mass of hair tumbling down to her waist.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re grumpy when you wake up?”

“As I don’t wake up around anyone, no, they haven’t.”

His eyes went pure gold, moving over her in the slow, intense way she was coming to recognize as his taking in everything. Her breath hitched in her lungs when he looked at her.

Ridley couldn’t take his eyes off Catarina. Her sweatpants rode low on her hips. Her tank molded to her breasts, and she wasn’t thin. She had curves, and he liked a woman with curves. She hid them under baggy clothes, but they were there, a little too curvy by normal standards, but certainly not by his. She had a very small waist and a narrow rib cage, which only served to emphasize the curve of her hips and butt and her breasts. Her tank was just that little bit too short, baring her midriff, and she had unbelievable skin. She didn’t wear makeup ever that he’d seen. Maybe lip gloss once in a while, but right now her lips were bare, along with her feet.

Her hair was wild. Bedroom wild. Sexy wild. And then on top of everything else she had those eyes. Large, framed with long thick black lashes, her eyes were unbelievable, and he wanted them staring straight into his when he was buried deep in her body. He wanted to see how those eyes changed when he gave her an orgasm.

He swore to himself. She wasn’t very old, not in years, but in her eyes, she was a million years old. That wasn’t a green light, he knew that. She was terrified, absolutely terrified, and he detested that. No woman should ever have to live in fear. She was always in flight mode. He knew she was preparing herself to fight, but right now, all he’d seen was her hiding herself away, her silence, baggy clothes and downcast eyes. That was Catarina in full flight.

He wanted to help her, to find a way to let her live in daylight. Along with her looks and that smile of hers, she made him laugh. He couldn’t remember laughing in a hell of a long time. And then she had that attitude. Looks, humor and attitude – hell – he was a goner. That made the situation a lot more dangerous. The last thing he needed was any chemistry between them. Hell. He was fucked. There were moments when the chemistry was off the charts. He couldn’t lie to himself about that. He had to be careful with her. Sex wasn’t going to help her situation, at least not now.

“My God, Kitten, you’re gorgeous. You’re fucking beautiful.” He couldn’t help himself. He had to tell her, because she didn’t know. He knew when women thought they were beautiful, and this one had no idea.