"Is Anakin here?" Megan asked at the same time Gabe opened the front door to his palace of a home. She left his side and searched the house. Near the door and the closet, she spotted a litter box. The moment she came to the kitchen, she saw a stainless-steel tray with cat food. Her cat should be here, somewhere.

"He should be," Gabe called out as he went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She continued to search and opened her bedroom door. Anakin was nowhere to be found.

The day she took the cat home, he stayed hidden for three days until he figured out his surroundings. He was a stay-at-home type.

She pressed her lips together and stood in the hall. A fraction of a second later, she saw how his door was slightly opened. It must be the master bedroom. She called out, "Gabe."

"Yeah?" He came around the corner holding a glass of water.

She pointed to the door that she didn't dare cross. "Is that your room?"

He gulped his water, briefly disappeared from view, and finally returned to the hallway without the glass. The moment he opened the door, she held still. His eyes widened and his pupils grew smaller. "He's on my pillow."

Anakin was there. She breathed and finally dared to pop her head in for a second. While her gaze adjusted to the dark room, she saw her cat was fast asleep on his white sheets. With her lips pressed together, she turned and stared at Gabe as she gripped the door frame. "He's just a cat."

The second he shrugged, she relaxed. "Let's get a beer, relax and I'll figure out how to wrestle my pillow back."

Once he returned to stand near her, she pressed her hand on his wrist. "Thank you for letting my cat stay with us. There are many people who hate cats."

He winked and watched her. Her face must be red, but he kept his lips closed and led her into the kitchen. Near the island, he let her go, and went toward the food. She stayed near the counter. "I never had one, but the rumor about women with cats permeates our culture."

The tiles were cold under her tired soles. She slipped a foot out of her shoe and let it curl higher on her other leg. "Then maybe you can kiss me and judge for yourself whether I fit the profile?"

The door to the refrigerator closed. He came closer and his finger brushed against her cheeks. "Are you sure?"

Her heartbeat sped up. Tonight she was here and safe. She opened her lips and closed her eyes. "I know this just for the night and there are no promises..."

"Don't..." He said as he massaged her shoulders.

She opened her eyes. Once again, she imagined more than he offered. She let out a soft sigh. "Gabe, I just need to feel your warmth next to me. We don't have to do anything."

He let his hands fall to the sides and pointed her toward the couch. "Then let's not rush. Do you want beer or a glass of wine?"

She slipped her shoe on but followed directions, though she couldn't sit on the couch. She went toward the windows and stared at the night sky and how it blended with the ocean in the horizon. "Beer is good. Sometimes wine can go straight to my head."

He came and placed a Corona with a lime next to him. She glanced at the usual light beer served in Florida under the heat and sun and met his gaze while he sat. "Megan, I know you're an accountant. Where did you go to school?"

She hugged her waist but left the window. Next to him would be warm, but she couldn't decide. "FSU. You?"

"Columbia."

Of course. New York all the way. She stood in front of him but swayed on her feet. "So what made you move from New York to Miami?"

"It's cheaper to incorporate in Florida and I like it here."

She dropped her hands to her sides while she descended into the seat next to him. "What did you major in?"

All around her, she could smell cedar and her heart slammed in her chest. "Computers..."

"Right." She interrupted but her skin felt electrified and warm. She pushed her own hair out of her face. "I get nervous near you when you look at me like that."

He blinked and put his drink down. "Like what?"

Perhaps he flirted with everyone he ever met, but the buzz inside her pushed her to continue. "Like you want to kiss me."

With his lips close to hers, he let his hand drop in her lap. "You asked me..."

Her face grew hot as she lowered her lashes. Her trip over the hot coals continued, so she shifted uncomfortably and slipped her shoes off. She decided to sit on her feet, but it didn’t help her. "I did. Every time you kiss me, I want more."

His blue eyes grew darker as he stayed close, like he wanted to touch her. Again she felt the energy that he'd kiss her, but this time she kept her gaze on him. "Megan, we probably shouldn't."

Everything she felt must be one-sided. She stilled and tried to dampen her attraction. "You're right. We shouldn't. You and I will never work."

"Not what I meant." He cupped her face.

Before she could ask a question, his lips met hers and it felt like he branded her. Her legs uncurled from under her and she leaned in for more. His arms held her tight, like she was the Christmas present he wanted to unwrap all at once, while his lips trapped hers.

"Wow," she said, once the kiss ended. She meant to lower her legs toward her shoes, but somehow she spread her legs across his lap and he massaged her heels.

He continued the circular motion. "I've not acted myself since I met you."

Goosebumps coated her arms and body again. The admission lay between them. She sat straighter and inched to take her legs back, but his massage made her soles feel fresh. "How?"

"I never let a woman get under my skin." He moved his hands higher on her legs.

Soon, he'd get to her skirt. This was it. She swallowed and said, "I would never hurt you."

She blinked as she tugged his shirt off and saw the old wounds that he had on his left side that traced around to his back. She placed her hand on it and felt his warm skin ripple under her touch. "I like your battle scars. It's sexy."

"I don't like talking about what happened," he admitted but a second later he leaned forward and kissed her. In his arms, she was safe and felt she was comfortable with him in a way she hadn’t been with anyone else. His strong shoulder muscles trembled under her soft grip. His lips tasted like honey and she craved more. The moment they came for air, she tasted him on her lips still, like he was a hot drink made just for her. "Mmm-hmmm."

Dimples appeared on his face when his hands traced her legs. Everything felt perfect, and she liked how her body bloomed from how he glanced at her waist and chest.

Yes. Tonight she was his. She moved her hands to brush against his face and her fingers traced his lips.

He lifted her shirt and kissed her stomach. No one ever made her feel this warm.