One shoulder shrugged. “I don’t know. If I found you interesting, I might.”

He groaned. “I wish I’d never heard that word before. Please, Lisa Daley. Please let me take you home. I’m worried stray dogs and cats are going to think you’re a movable feast and some random club kids will decide you’re a walking rave and party around you.”

She grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

“I think you’re cute as a button, ma crevette,” he admitted.

“Okay. But only because my feet are swollen.” She stuffed the dollar bills into her bag and then the shrimp that had been on her shoulder fell and she shrieked but managed to catch it.

“It’s not alive,” he said quietly, looking around to see if anyone was calling the cops on the massive dude and the tiny woman who had screamed. She stared at it for a long moment and then he heard her stomach rumble. Damn. The woman was hangry. He could understand that. It was one part of her savage beast he could soothe easily. “Are you thinking about eating that?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But that would be gross. Right?”

In the distance he heard the sound of a siren wailing. It appeared the ambulance was coming for her erstwhile former customer. Remy pulled the shrimp out of her hand and tossed it away for some lucky roaming cat to find. This particular kitten had just gotten herself a keeper. “Pizza is on me.”

He lifted her back up because he couldn’t stand the way she stumbled in those shoes and walked to his massive truck, tucking her inside and doing her seatbelt himself.

“I would like that,” she said, her lips curling up.

It was the first real smile he’d seen on her all night and he didn’t want to think about what that smile did to his insides. He drove out as the ambulance was pulling in.

She was right where he needed her to be—at his side. Now he simply had to find a way to keep her there.

Chapter Four

What the hell was she doing? Lisa finished drying her hair. He was still out there, still walking around her apartment. Why had she agreed to eat pizza with him? She needed to be…what? Resting for her big day tomorrow of absolutely no interviews and no job to go to? Crying because this evening had been awful and horrible and she was sick of feeling humiliated by life? That was a plan.

“You doing all right in there?” Remy’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The pizza’s here and I found a bottle of Pinot Noir amidst the boxes over at my place. Unless you prefer a white. I could try to find a convenience store.”