When her fuzzy thoughts came back into focus,the car had driven away, leaving her to wonder who had beenwatching her.

The day came and went quickly. Viv invitedher to The Brewery again, this time without the company of theasshole who had been invited previously, but Elsa wasn’t up toit.

Instead she showered, changed and decided tocatch a bus to Grace Street for a stroll. Unlike most people sheknew, she enjoyed public transportation and the opportunity it gaveher to be an uninvited spectator into the secret lives ofothers.

During her short walk to the bus station, shefelt the peculiar sense of eyes on her and on several occasions,she stopped in her path to turn around and take in hersurroundings. The sun wasn’t quite set yet and low on the horizon,but the shadows on the street were prominent, making the atmospherefeel unsettling. Thoughts of being attacked and pulled into adarkened corner besieged her. As panic began to surface, shereached into her jacket pocket and tightly gripped her mace, readyto burn the eyes of any would be assailant, and picked up herwalking pace. She couldn’t be sure if she was just being paranoid,but she swore she heard footsteps behind her matching her pace.

The bus stop was only a few hundred feet awayand she jogged the remainder of the distance, relieved when shecame to an overhead light where several others were waiting. Withher heart pounding in her chest, she eased herself onto the bench,feeling somewhat safer in the company of others, though notmuch.

Suddenly, there it was: the smell of citrusand bergamot. Surely she was imagining things. Her eyes dartedaround and she leaned into the man sitting next to her, inhalinghis aroma, but all she could smell on him was his sweat. Just thena large bus squealed to a halt in front of them. The doors flungopen and she pushed her way to the front of the crowd and scrambledon.

Once on the bus, she let out a loud sigh ofrelief. Her mind was racing and her mouth parched from fear.Sinking low into the seat, she scanned the bus, her eyes becomingfixated on an amorous couple who were discretely trying to cop afeel. A smile danced on her mouth at the sight of it. She feltdirty watching them, like some kind of perverted onlooker, but shecouldn’t take her eyes off of them. When the petite woman giggledand tried to pull away, the unassuming, thin man with blackhorn-rimmed glasses got a wild look in his eyes and yanked her backroughly and whispered something harsh into her ear as he slid hishand up the inside of her thigh and under her skirt, making hermewl with delight. Elsa’s breathing quickened at what she waswitnessing and she shifted in her seat, her nethers becoming dampwith arousal. When she did, her movement caught the man’s attentionand his eyes darted toward her. He gave her a lewd smile as hecontinued to work his fingers into his girlfriend, all the whilethe girl panted softly with her eyes closed.

Elsa felt her cheeks flush and her bodytemperature rise, but she found herself unable to peel her gazeaway from the spectacle before her. It was compelling, dirty andgratuitous. Her mouth parted and she licked her lips, wishing shewas on the receiving end of his long fingers when the man suddenlylooked away and redirected his attention back on his lover,crushing his mouth over hers and kissing her violently. It wasbeautiful and shameless.

Just then the bus squeaked to a halt, joltingall the passengers forward and forcing Elsa out of her voyeuristicentrancement.

She found a small café she had been eager tovisit since noticing it several weeks before and seated herself ina corner booth. After ordering a large diet Coke, she placed herearbuds in and fired up some James Blunt and opened a book she hadbrought along. She began humming when the same smell from earlierhit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes flicked upward and shepulled her earbuds out. Sitting directly in front of her was Mr.Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself. His intense stare bored into heras he sat silently watching her and made no effort to make politeconversation or explain his presence. He had the samejust-got-fucked-hair, impeccable attire and scent of expensiveaftershave. Elsa came to the frightening realization that he hadmost likely followed her there and that it was him she had sensedearlier on the darkening street. When she sat quiet for nearly aminute trying to make sense of everything and staring at himimpatiently, a crooked grin spread over his chiseled face.

“Aren’t you curious as to why I’m here?” hefinally asked, his eyes narrowed down to mere slits.

She swallowed hard and chewed the corner ofher lip fretfully. Sliding her hands off the table, she reachedinto her coat pocket and touched the mace. “Curious isn’t theword,” she whispered, gawking at his firm, oxblood-red lips.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on thetable. “Then, what?”

“Uncomfortable.”

His smile widened only the faintest bit. “Ilike uncomfortable.”

Yes, she could sense that about him. He wasvisibly pleased with her unease, just like he had been at the bar.Unclear of his intentions, Elsa pressed her body into the back ofthe booth, trying to put some distance between them, but heractions only made him move forward, closer to her, like a wild,jungle cat stalking its prey. Maybe that’s what she was to him -prey. But damn if he wasn’t stunning to look at all in allhis terrifying glory and dark eyes. At least this time he didn’tsmell like another woman’s sex, but even at that, it had been anice scent on him, even if it wasn’t her own fragrance seeping outof his pores.

“Do you find me attractive, Elsa?” he askedin the deepest, most deceptively calm voice.

Her eyebrows rose. He hadn’t forgotten hername. “Any sensible woman would,” she replied coolly.

Tipping his head back, the light caught thebright white of his eyes and she could finally see the true colorof his irises – the deepest green with hazel specks.

“Your eyes are the most amazing color,” sheunintentionally whispered when she became ensnared in his watchfulgaze.

His mouth twitched with what appeared to beagitation and something menacing flickered in his eyes. “If youfind me attractive then why did you refuse my card?” he asked,completely ignoring her remark.

If he really wanted to persist with this lineof questioning, then she would just come out and say it. “Becauseyou seemed dangerous.”

The twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable.“Oh, I am dangerous. Doesn’t that appeal to you?”

She let out a short breathy laugh. Who thehell was this guy? And come to think of it, what was his interestin her? “I suppose to a certain degree it does, but I’ve had myshare of dangerous men and I’m over it.”

The man’s left brow rose infinitesimally.“But you haven’t had my brand of dangerous.”

Elsa wasn’t sure she liked the suggestivetone of his voice, but still - her insides jangled with unwelcomeexcitement. She did, after all, like a bit of menace in her men.She also liked it rough when it came right down to it. Or at leastthe idea of rough. No man had ever actually given her whatshe really wanted, or needed for that matter. Not even Patrick hadgiven her all that she yearned for.

Nervous and exhausted with Mr. Dangerous andtrying to assess his unreadable features, she rose to leave. Asdevastating as his appeal was, she didn’t need the drama in herlife. Not when she had moved nearly six hundred miles to startfresh. In the blink of an eye, she felt a strong hand on her. Histouch was fiery and possessive, halting her escape. A soft gaspleft her mouth and she looked down to see his long fingers wrappedtightly around her small wrist.

“Please sit, Ms. Cassidy,” his voice was softbut alarming.

Her heart leapt into her throat, not onlyfrom his touch but his use of her surname. The heated look passingover his expression and the flame in his eyes were more revealingin his intentions than anything he had spoken to her. Elsa had seena look like that cast on her before, though not nearly as intense,and she knew it meant nothing but trouble. Something about a man’smasculinity and dominance spoke to that depraved part of her thatmade her want to do bad, bad things. And this man was no exception.Or maybe he was the exception; a decadently, beautiful andperilously mysterious exception who would allow her to give intoher wanton desires.