Evangeline sat in the back of the luxurious car, utterly still with shock. She should be shaking like a leaf and completely freaking out. Okay, so she was freaking out, but she wasn’t broadcasting that to the big silent man who’d been charged with “seeing her home.” The same man who’d intervened and prevented Eddie from hitting her.

Did he know what had happened in Drake’s office, or whatever the heck he called it? It seemed more his lair and he was some brooding dark beast. A beast who had the most wicked mouth and certainly knew how to use it to pleasure a woman.

Mortification swept over her, nearly destroying her carefully constructed composure. She’d allowed herself to be escorted from Drake’s office as if they’d simply had a conversation and he was thoughtful enough to ensure she got home safely. But on the inside she was a hot, writhing mess, still shaking from the aftermath of the most mind-blowing orgasm she could imagine.

Not that she had anything to compare it to, but surely all orgasms weren’t that earth shattering. If they were, then all everyone would ever do is have sex. The world would revolve around down-and-dirty sex.

If she had a man like Drake, it would certainly be all she ever wanted to do. If he was that talented with his mouth, then what about the other parts of his body? Imagining his cock deep inside her nearly made her orgasm all over again, and she glanced furtively at Maddox, praying she hadn’t just given herself away with the betraying quiver that stole over her body and set all her girly parts to tingling all over again.

She was still hypersensitive. The exquisite, sumptuous leather she sat on vibrated erotically over her swollen, throbbing clit as the car navigated through Brooklyn. It was the worst sort of torture because it was a good distance from Impulse to the apartment she shared with her three roommates in Queens.

She didn’t chance staring at Maddox too long. She didn’t want him aware of her scrutiny. That, and she was positive he’d take one look at her face and see her every thought reflected, and that would truly send her over the edge on a night where her nerves were already frazzled and frayed to mere threads. And she was barely hanging on to those fragile threads as it was.

He was utterly unaware of her anyway, his gaze fixed ahead at a point over the driver’s shoulder as if studying the streets, alert at all times. Was he expecting them to be carjacked or something?

She almost laughed but knew that too would give away her mounting hysteria.

Surely escorting errant women from his boss’s club wasn’t in his usual list of duties. If she hadn’t had the night from hell—and heaven, God, the last part had been pure bliss—she could almost summon sympathy for him and his job of babysitting her all the way to Queens.

They continued the drive in silence and when they were but minutes from her apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief. But then Maddox shocked her by turning his attention to her, the first time he’d even acknowledged her on the ride home.

“Are you all right?” he asked gently. Then he shook his head, evidently irritated with his own question. “Of course you aren’t all right. But will you be?”

Her mouth fell open because she’d gotten the distinct impression that she was a tedious job, an unwanted one at that, but now genuine concern, and worse, sympathy was reflected in his eyes, making her wince.

She didn’t want this man’s pity. Or Drake’s for that matter. The evening had been a disaster. Well, except for the bone-melting, oh-my-GOD orgasm Drake had given her, because it had been painfully obvious to everyone at that damn club that she didn’t belong, no matter that Drake had tried to dissuade her of that notion.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

He cast a doubtful look in her direction. One that told her he saw right past her obvious lie, but then she’d never been able to deceive anyone. She was everyone’s version of Miss Goody Two-Shoes, which was why Eddie had seen her as a challenge and wanted to be the one to shame and humiliate her. To conquer the ice queen and be smug over his victory. Some victory. He’d been terrible in bed, and it had only taken Drake’s mouth and nothing else to reveal that much to her.

“Okay,” she muttered. “I will be fine. Happy? I’ll get over it. I always do.”

He frowned at that, his eyes glittering with sudden anger, but he clamped his lips shut, thank God. She had no desire to bare her soul a second time to a complete stranger as she’d done with Drake within five minutes in his presence. Her and her annoying, ridiculous habit of blurting out the truth, no matter how humiliating. She’d mentally kicked herself at least a dozen times for not telling him it wasn’t any of his business. But then there was the fact that Drake didn’t appear to her to be a man to ever be told to mind his business. She’d convinced herself that he scared the holy hell out of her, but then he’d been extraordinarily tender—and sweet—to her, and she hadn’t been able to summon fear when he was making her mindless with his mouth. But after? When she’d partially regained her senses? He definitely terrified her.

The driver rolled to a stop in front of the aging seven-story apartment building that was far older than she was. She and her girls lived on the top floor and the elevator had stopped working a year ago, something the cheap asshole landlord hadn’t ever seen fit to fix. It made carrying groceries, or even worse, walking up those six flights of stairs unbearable after a long night at work with aching, swollen feet.

Evangeline didn’t wait for the driver or Maddox to get out. She quickly opened her door and stepped onto the curb, hoping neither man would bother to get out and would be on their way, more than happy to be rid of her.

No such luck, but then nothing about this night had gone right, so why would now be any different?

Maddox climbed out on his side after checking for traffic, which wasn’t much given the lateness of the night and the fact that for all practical purposes it was a one-way street since vehicles were curbside parked on both sides, making it a tight squeeze for two cars to pass in opposite directions.

He came around to stand beside Evangeline and stared up at her dilapidated building, a scowl forming on his face.

“You live here?”

She stiffened at the implied criticism and snobbery, and she fixed him with an icy glare of her own.

“It’s all I can afford and I share it with three other roommates. We do fine. It has all we need.”

He shook his head and reached for her elbow, but she evaded his grasp.

“Thank you for the ride home,” she said, politely distant.

He ignored the obvious dismissal and his hand closed around her elbow as he herded her toward the entryway.

“I’m walking you up to your apartment.”

There was a stubborn glint in his eyes that told her no amount of arguing was going to sway him on the matter. She sighed and threw up her free hand.

“Whatever. Let’s just get it over with. I’ve had a long night and I’m ready to face-plant on my bed.”

His mouth twitched ever so slightly. She could swear he was battling a smile, but then none of the men who worked for Drake that she’d seen tonight looked like they smiled. Ever.

When he headed for the elevator, she pulled up and shook her head, directing him toward the stairs.

“The elevator doesn’t work. We’ll have to take the stairs.”

He frowned. “What floor do you live on?”

“Top,” she said, already bracing herself for his reaction.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

Then he simply bent down, gripping one of her hands and anchoring it on his shoulder.

“Hold on to me.”

She had no time to question and it was a good thing she was too befuddled and rattled to disobey his order because he lifted one foot, causing her to teeter, and slipped one of her heels off. After her bare foot was solidly back on the floor, he repeated the action with her other shoe before easing her hand back down to her waist.

Her shoes dangled from his fingertips and with his free hand, he pressed his palm to her back and ushered her to the stairs.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked in a strangled tone, finally managing to find her voice.

“You’ll break your damn neck climbing six flights of stairs in those toothpicks you call shoes,” he growled.

She rolled her eyes as they began their climb. “I’m very used to wearing heels like these.”

He cocked a mocking eyebrow at her. “Can’t say I’m convinced after tonight’s fiasco. You damn near killed yourself.”

She uttered a growl of her own and pinned him with her most ferocious frown. “Well gee, excuse me all to heck. I was a little more concerned with getting out of the way of a fist trying to make contact with my face than I was about staying upright in my shoes.”

It was the wrong thing to remind him of. His expression went utterly glacial and a murderous look entered his eyes.

“He won’t fuck with you again.”

The conviction in his voice made her uneasy. She used sarcasm to avoid thinking too hard about the certainty with which he’d made that particular statement.

She lifted one eyebrow. “So you have a magic ball? You can see into the future and you know he’ll never come at me again?”

“Trust me. He will never come within a mile of you.”

Her stomach quivered and she swallowed the fear quickly forming a knot in her throat. He wasn’t joking and she did not want to know how he knew this and why he was convinced that Eddie would never be a problem for her again. Some things were just left better unsaid. Ignorance was bliss, and it was a motto she’d adhered to her entire life. No reason to make any drastic changes now. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, her mama always said.

“This is it,” she said in a hushed voice when they reached the end of the hallway. Her apartment number was 716, but the six was turned sideways and the seven dangled precariously upside down. It would fall any time and she’d been meaning to fix it herself since her landlord was a useless piece of crap who never bothered to grace the building with his presence unless someone was late on rent. Then he was Johnny-on-the-spot and pounding on their door, threatening immediate eviction, even though it wasn’t legal.

“Jesus,” Maddox muttered again.

Knowing that if he walked into her apartment with his badass protective routine, her roommates would never let her go to sleep until they pried out the entire soap opera that had been her night, she unlocked the door and opened it just enough so she could slide through. Then she turned back, putting her entire weight against the flimsy door, as if he’d have any problem pushing past her. For that matter, he could kick it down without breaking a sweat.

“Seven. Tomorrow,” Maddox said crisply, suddenly all business. “Don’t come down. I don’t want you waiting on the street. Stay inside until I come up for you.”

She barely managed to control her flinch. Barely. Even so, she was certain she’d gone completely pale.

After giving her the best sexual experience of her life, Drake had calmly told her that his driver would be at her apartment the next night at seven and she was going to spend the evening with him. Just like that. He didn’t ask. He planned without consulting her about . . . anything . . . and she was supposed to just meet his driver and go God only knew where with a scary-as-hell man who also happened to have a positively sinful mouth and an equally sinful body.

She’d been too shattered by her orgasm to do anything but nod dumbly when he’d given her his crisp instructions, and then she’d been herded out of the club and into the car that drove her home.

“Seven,” she answered, nodding to reinforce the lie.

And then she shut the door, thanking God the girls weren’t all waiting in the tiny living room for all the gory details of her evening. She leaned back against it, closing her eyes, her control finally breaking, and she began shaking from head to toe. Even her teeth chattered as she relived every sinfully decadent moment of being sprawled across Drake’s desk as he went down on her like a starving man.

There was no way in hell she would be here at seven tomorrow. She had work, rent to pay and money to send home to her mother. And nothing, not even a very scary, very sexy man who made her tingle in places she’d never tingled in before was going to prevent her from taking care of her responsibilities.

She hadn’t moved so far away from her tiny southern town to a city with a bigger population than her home state to be a party girl or even to have fun. She’d come to the city because her family needed her, and she wasn’t going to let them down.