“Those machines are thousands of dollars.”

“Still, you make great coffee. You don’t even have a small machine.”

“Because I’m saving for a security system.”

“I see. Well I’m installing that day after tomorrow so you can use your funds for a small machine and give me my fix while I work.”

“You’re not paying for my security system.”

“Why not?”

“Because nothing in this world comes without a price tag.”

For a moment his golden eyes went glittery again and then they seemed to melt into masculine amusement. “You’re right about that.”

She stiffened.

“My price is your coffee, Kitten. Lots of it. And then, if I get finished, we can spar a little. I’ve got a few moves that might help you.”

He turned and walked away from her toward the door without once looking back. She stood there with her mouth open.

“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.”