“Show me your security system.” As her shoulders visibly eased up, she put down her fork, but he was having none of that. “No, finish your food first.”

While she ate, he got up and paced around, memorizing everything from the pictures on the walls to the photos around the couch and sitting area. Finally, he stopped in front of all that glass.

“Let me show you.”

At the sound of her voice, his eyes focused on the reflection of her as she stood behind him in that black dress, a beautiful specter of a woman. . . .

In the quiet silence of the house, with his belly full of food she had prepared for him, and his eyes drinking in the sight of her . . . things went from complicated to completely chaotic.

He wanted her. With a hunger that was going to put them both in a hell of a bind.

“Isaac?”

That voice of hers . . . that dress . . . those legs . . .

“I need to go,” he said roughly. Actually, he needed to come . . . inside of her. But that was not going to be part of this. Even if he had to cut his own cock off and bury it in that lovely backyard of hers.

“Then I’m not going to resign from your case.”

Isaac wheeled around and was entirely unsurprised when she didn’t step back or budge one inch.

Before he could open his mouth, she held up her palm to stop him before he started. “It doesn’t matter that I don’t know you and I don’t owe you. So you can stop that argument right there. You and I are going to check out my security system and then you’re going to sleep in my guest room and leave in the morning—”

“I could kill you. Right here. Right now.”

That shut her up.

As her fingertips lifted to that heavy gold necklace of hers, like maybe she was imagining his hands around her throat, he walked over to her.

And this time she did back away . . . until the counter where her empty plate sat stopped her.

Isaac kept coming until he put his arms on either side of her, locking his hands on the granite, effectively imprisoning her. Looking right into those wide blue eyes of hers, he was desperate to scare some sense into her.

“I’m not the kind of man you’re used to.”

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“You’re trembling and you’ve got a death grip on your neck right now. So you tell me what you think I’m capable of.” As she swallowed hard, he figured the wake-up call was way overdue—except he felt like a thug putting on the show of aggression. “I know you’re into the savior thing. But I’m not the kind of charity case that’ll feed your soul. Trust me.”