"Alrighty then," she said with a careless shrug as she opened her purse and pulled out her phone, leaving him to frown as she started typing something on the small keypad.

"What are you doing?" he found himself asking.

"Sending my contact at the agency an email and asking her if she has any job openings on the west coast," she said, never taking her eyes off her phone.

Scowling, he plucked the phone from her hand and shoved it in his pocket. "I thought we were going to talk," he said, ignoring the hand that she held out for the return of her phone.

"No," she said with a sigh as she dropped her hand away when it became painfully obvious that he had no intentions of returning her phone, "I came to eat. You came to talk."

Still wondering why she hadn't eaten the sandwich that he'd made for her if she was so hungry, he forced himself to focus on getting her to stay without having to resort to kidnapping her. It would probably draw more unnecessary attention his way, he mused as he watched her every move. He needed to figure out a way to make her stay without her finding out that she really didn't have a choice.

"What will it take to get you to stay?" he asked, deciding to go with bribery first. Giving her a raise or buying her something would be a h.e.l.l of a lot easier than convincing her to stay, he decided as he waited for her demands.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug, making him wonder if she was trying to play hardball and see just how much she could get out of him.

"You're going to be difficult about this, aren't you?" he asked, rubbing his hands down his face and wondering just how many hoops she was going to make him jump through to get her to willingly stay.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head as she looked around the restaurant, "I'm just not staying."

"Why not?" he demanded, hoping to buy himself a little more time so that he could think up a better approach, one that didn't involve chaining her to the house.

"Because this job just didn't work out for me," she said with a shrug, not quite meeting his eyes, he noticed.

"This job or because of what happened last night?" he demanded, having a pretty good idea that if he hadn't f.u.c.ked up yesterday and ditched her that she would still be willing to stay and drive him out of his f.u.c.king mind.

"What happened last night?" the woman sitting behind him asked, startling him and bringing his attention to the fact that the forty-something year old woman sitting directly behind him was turned around in her seat and shamelessly eavesdropping on their entire conversation.

Before he could tell her to mind her own f.u.c.king business, Cloe beat him to it. "I forgot the safe word last night and was brutally punished for it," she said dryly, staring at the nosy woman until she got the hint and turned back around in her seat.

"It has nothing to do with last night," she said, pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she looked away.

"You're lying," he said, because he knew without a doubt that she loved her job. She loved working with his sister and she sure as h.e.l.l loved driving him crazy.

"So what if I am?" she asked, sitting back when a large plate of food was placed in front of her.

"Is there anything else that I can get for you?" the waitress asked as a large plate of food was placed in front of him.

He was just about to tell her that they were fine when he looked up and realized that they had a different waitress. Frowning, he looked past their new waitress to find their old waitress standing just outside the kitchen doors with a small brown paper bag stuck to her face and two women trying to get her to calm down before she pa.s.sed out.

"We're all set," Cloe said, following his gaze with a frown.

"Just yell if you need anything," the new waitress said, sending him a curious look before she walked away.

"This is a very weird town," Cloe mumbled as she grabbed a bottle of ketchup and squeezed an insane amount all over her fries.

"You have no idea," he muttered as he took the bottle of ketchup from her and squirted the red stuff all over his fries before setting the bottle down and wondering what he was supposed to do now.

With a sigh, Cloe picked the bottle back up and squirted some on her burger before placing the bun on top. Deciding that it was probably a good idea, he took the bottle from her again and did the same to his burger. When she cut her burger in half, he did the same.

"Are you going to tell me why this town treats you like a leper?" she asked, taking a bite out of her burger.

"Are you going to tell me what freaked you out last night?" he asked, c.o.c.king a brow as he took a bite out of his burger, but not before he discreetly smelled it, making sure that they hadn't put anything extra in his burger.

"Touche," she said with a nod as he struggled not to gag.

Although it had smelled pleasant enough, it tasted like garbage and his mouth desperately wanted to get rid of it. Instead of spitting it out, he forced himself to chew a few times before he swallowed the entire bite. When it landed like a ball of lead in the pit of his stomach he was reminded of what he'd be forced to do later. It was not something that he was looking forward to, he mused as he forced himself to take another bite.

"I thought you were on a special diet," Cloe said, gesturing to his plate with a ketchup-smothered French fry.

"I am," he said evenly, picking up a French fry and forcing it down his throat.

"Is this going to make you sick?" she asked, pausing with a fry halfway to her mouth, sounding concerned.

"No," he lied, well, not technically since the food wouldn't make him sick. He'd be the one forced to make himself sick to rid his body of this c.r.a.p before it started to rot in his stomach and caused a few other problems that he'd really rather not have to deal with.

"How's your frappe?" she asked, picking up her own and taking a long, slow sip of it all while watching his every move.

"Delicious," he forced himself to say as he picked up the gla.s.s of what looked like liquid s.h.i.t and copied her, doing his best not to cringe when the overly sweet, cold, thick liquid hit his tongue.

"You don't look like you're enjoying it," she pointed out, returning her attention to her burger.

"I'm in heaven," he said dryly, earning a smile from her as he forced another bite of his burger down his throat.

She rolled her eyes as she picked up another fry and dipped it in a puddle of ketchup. "You could have ordered something else."

Not unless she was on the menu, he thought wistfully as he picked up another fry and forced it in his mouth. She smelled mouthwatering, he thought, nearly groaning when his stomach growled in agreement. His fangs actually ached for a taste of her as his eyes latched onto her pulse, mesmerized by the beautiful thrum of her artery as it danced in tune to her heartbeat. What he wouldn't give for a taste of her, he thought miserably as he stuffed yet another fry in his mouth.

"What time will Marta be done with her dinner tonight?" Cloe asked, managing to draw his attention away from her vein.

"Late," he said, returning his attention to his burger when the thought of stuffing one more grease soaked fry into his mouth had his stomach turning in disgust.

"Maybe I should come back to the house and prepare a few ca.s.seroles to carry her over for a few days until she can find someone to replace me," Cloe said, frowning with worry and providing him with a better, and more private, opportunity to convince her to stay.

"Yes, yes you should," he said, biting back a grin as he took another bite of his burger.

Chapter 15.

"I swear to G.o.d that if you don't open this door and give me back my purse that I will kick your a.s.s!" Cloe snapped, slapping her hands flat against the bas.e.m.e.nt door before she followed it up with a small kick when her threat was once again met with silence.

She still couldn't believe that the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had done it.

If she had known that he was going to steal her purse when she went upstairs to grab her bags, she wouldn't have left it on the kitchen table. h.e.l.l, if she had known that he was going to use the last three hours to try and convince her to stay, she never would have come back here.

"a.s.shole!" she growled, shoving away from the door as she tried to figure out what she was going to do now.

Staying here wasn't an option, not unless she could manage to ask Christofer to crawl in bed with her tonight and keep her safe without dying of mortification. Since she was pretty sure that she couldn't manage that, leaving was her only choice. She wasn't weak and she'd be d.a.m.ned if she let anyone think that, especially the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that she was going kill as soon as she got her hands on him.

Last night had been a fluke for her. She'd been taken off guard by old memories and she'd reacted. It wasn't something that she was proud of, but at least she hadn't broken down and sobbed hysterically no matter how tempting it had been. She hadn't cried, hadn't taken her pills, run screaming into the night or begged Christofer to take care of her.

He'd done that all on his own and right now she hated him for it.

She didn't want to need someone the way that she needed him, not when it would hurt too much to lose him and she would lose him. One day she would have to move on. The need to leave, to put some more s.p.a.ce between her and her past would take over and leave her with no choice but to accept a new job in another state. She'd be forced to say goodbye to him and the longer she stayed, the harder that would become. That was only if he didn't leave her first, which he probably would.

He'd either get sick of dealing with her baggage, get sick of her, find someone else, or die, leaving her behind to deal with no longer having him in her life. She couldn't do it. Didn't want to do it. There was a reason why she didn't allow herself to get close to her clients. It was also the reason why she'd cut ties with everyone as soon as she moved on to a new job. She never wanted to deal with the kind of pain that went along with losing someone that she cared about again. She'd already dealt with enough loss in her life and didn't need anymore. She should have remembered that this morning instead of looking for an excuse to prolong her goodbyes.

Now the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was downstairs with her purse. He had her ID, money, credit cards, and keys and she was left here fuming as she tried to figure out a way to get her stuff and get the h.e.l.l out of here. She needed to do it before he figured out another way to keep her here and she was left with no choice but to beg him to stay with her for another night. Since that wasn't going to happen, she needed to figure out a way to get the bas.e.m.e.nt door open and quickly. It was times like this that she wished she'd made friends with the criminal sort so that she'd know how to pick this d.a.m.n lock. Then she could go downstairs and kick his a.s.s!

"a.s.shole," she muttered again, simply because it gave her something to do as she tried to think of a way to- "Now, that wasn't very nice," the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that she was going to kill with her bare hands said as he opened the bas.e.m.e.nt door and leaned against the doorframe.

Eyes narrowing, she quickly looked him over, hoping to find her purse, but there was nothing in his hands. That was fine with her, she thought as she pushed past him, half-expecting him to stop her. When he simply stepped aside and let her walk past him, she decided that she could just as easily ransack his room as she could kick his a.s.s.

"You'll never find it," he said, chuckling as he followed her downstairs.

"Uh huh," she said, pausing at the foot of the stairs as she surveyed the large finished bas.e.m.e.nt.

Unlike the rest of the house that looked like it was stuck back in the 1950s, this room looked modern. It looked more comfortable and it definitely was more guy friendly. The loveseat by the back wall was large and looked comfortable, as did the bed, which was neatly made. That shocked her, but not as much as the fact that the rest of the room was clean and tidy. Given how much Christofer seemed to hate doing household ch.o.r.es, she'd a.s.sumed that his room would have resembled something out of a frat house.

Instead his room was clean and everything seemed to have a place. There were no posters of scantily clad women on the walls, empty beer cans littering the floor or the smell of food rotting away somewhere in the corner. Then again, there wasn't much to leave on the floor, she realized as she looked around the room and noted that besides the laptop computer, some art supplies and an insane amount of books lined up against the walls, there wasn't anything personal in the room.

The only furniture in the room was the bed, a small dresser, a large refrigerator in the corner and a few bookshelves that were crammed full of books. She'd seen hotel rooms that looked homier than this room. As far as she knew, he'd been living here all of his life, but it didn't show. It looked more like he was just pa.s.sing through. It made her heart break a little more for him.

He was living in a town where he was obviously not wanted, had no friends, hid out in the barn most of the time working, and spent whatever free time that he had making sure that his sister was taken care of. Well, his version of taking care of her, she amended, pursing up her lips in thought as she looked the room over again.

"How exactly do you plan on finding it?" he asked, walking past her as he pulled off his shirt, revealing the incredible torso that she may have enjoyed snuggling up against last night.

"By tearing your room apart piece by piece until I find my purse. Then I'm going to beat you with it, say goodbye to Marta, kick your a.s.s again and then leave," she said, somehow managing to look away when all she wanted to do was to walk up to him, wrap her arms around him, and soak in the comfort that only he could give her one last time before she left for good.

"That sounds like fun," he said around a yawn as he flopped down across the bed on his stomach. "Just try not to wake me up, okay, mein Schatz?" he said, sounding amused when he should be frightened.

And what the h.e.l.l did mein Schatz mean anyway? She considered asking him, but she didn't want to take a chance giving him something else to torment her with. Sending one last scowl in his direction, she made her way to what she a.s.sumed was his bathroom. After a quick check, she decided that her purse wasn't in there so she moved on to his closet with no luck.

Fifteen minutes later she was ready to kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She'd searched everywhere with absolutely no luck. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she thought as her gaze narrowed on the refrigerator in the corner, the refrigerator that was currently locked and no doubt held her purse.

"Open the fridge," she demanded as she walked over to the bed.

"No," he said, shifting onto his back with a sigh as he settled in once again for a nap.

"Just give me my purse so that I can leave," she bit through clenched teeth, praying that he cut the s.h.i.t and just let her go, because she seriously didn't know how much longer it would be until she snapped and did something that would require her to apologize to Marta and probably face a little jail time.

"Let me think about it for a minute," he said, folding his arms behind his head, not even bothering to open his eyes as he added, "No," with a little smirk that had her eyes narrowing to slits and her hands twitching with the need to grab a pillow and smother the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Christofer," she said, pausing to close her eyes and take a deep breath before she continued, "I'm seconds away from killing you with my bare hands. Just give me my purse so that I can be on my way and you can continue breathing."

"No," he simply said, leaving her with no choice but to kill him.

Furious, she stormed over to the bed, grabbed a pillow and climbed onto the bed. She straddled his thighs just as she shoved the pillow down on his face. She held it over his face for a good thirty seconds or so before she asked, "Are you going to give me my purse?"

"No," came the m.u.f.fled reply and G.o.d help the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but it sounded like he was laughing.

"Last chance," she warned, giving the pillow a slight shake to show him that she meant business.

With a sigh, Christofer pulled his arms out from behind his head and grabbed the pillow. Before she could stop him, he flipped the pillow back and raised his head as he settled back more comfortably against it. When she went to grab the pillow away from him and finish the job, he grabbed her hands and carefully entwined their fingers.

"Let go," she demanded as she tried to pull her hands free, admittedly not trying very hard and hating herself for it.

She liked where she was a little too much, which was just a reminder that she really needed to leave before she did something stupid like let herself fall for the jerk. As it was, she was already too close to liking him. It probably wouldn't take much to push her over the edge and make her come up with a lame excuse to stay.

"No," he said, gently caressing his thumb over the back of her hands.

"I need to go, Christofer," she said, feeling herself soften as she looked down into his beautiful baby blue eyes.

"No, you really don't," he said with a simple shake of his head as he continued to caress his thumbs across the back of her hands.

"Yes, I really do," she snapped in aggravation as she sat back on his thighs and glanced around the room again.

"Then leave," he said with a careless shrug that she really didn't care for, not one bit.

"I can't," she ground out even as she wondered if he'd snuck out of the house and hid the purse somewhere else.

"You could if you really wanted to," he explained before adding, "Clearly you don't want to leave," just to p.i.s.s her off.

"Really?" she asked, looking back down at him and c.o.c.king a brow. "Why don't we put your little theory to the test then?"

"And how do you propose that we do that?"

"Give me back my purse," she suggested in a challenging tone.

"And what would that prove exactly?" he asked as his gaze slowly left her face to do a slow perusal of her body and she swore that she could actually feel it moving down her body.

"Well, after I kick your a.s.s and take off, I think it will prove that I wanted to leave," she explained, noting the way her voice started to tremble at the end even as she prayed that he'd missed it.

Why did he have this affect on her? It wasn't right. It sure as h.e.l.l wasn't normal. No man had ever made her feel like this, like she'd die if she had to go another minute without touching him. She liked men, loved s.e.x, and enjoyed spending time with men and the excitement that led to jumping into bed with them, but this was different.

She loved the way Christofer looked at her, the way he touched her without any hesitation like it was the most natural thing in the world. She loved the way she felt when she was near him, like she was safe and nothing bad could touch her as long as she was with him. She even loved how he could set her body on fire with one simple look even while she hated the fact that he had that much power over her.

"It would only prove just how badly you wanted to stay," Christofer said, voicing her fears.

"I need to go, Christofer," she said, pointedly ignoring him as she moved to climb off him and search the room one more time before she tried to come up with a plan B.

"No, you need to stay, Cloe," he said, giving her hands a gentle tug that had her a.s.s landing back on his thighs.

She sighed, long and heavy, as she shot another glance around the room, hoping that her purse would suddenly appear. When her gaze landed on the small alarm clock by the bed she felt her stomach drop. It was after five o'clock, which meant that even if she managed to find her keys tonight, she'd be forced to drive well into the morning to put any real distance between herself and another bad memory.