“Take your time.” He pulled something metallic out of his pocket and dropped it on my lap. “Lock up when you leave.”

A key. “Should I put it in the mailbox?”

“You can keep it. Use it with or without me. My house is close to your work. If you ever need a quick nap, the place will serve your purpose.”

I met his eyes. “I don’t know, Koby. This is a little rushed, maybe?”

“If you don’t want it, put it in the mailbox.” He sat beside me, laying his plastic-wrapped scrubs on the floor. “You say for me to show you I’m interested. Now maybe you believe me.”

“I meant responding to my phone calls, not moving—” I stopped myself. Talk about slips of the tongue. Now who needed to take it easy? But my first thoughts had been, If I lived here, where would I put my clothes?

Koby broke into a slow smile. “I think I am mad for you, Cynthia.” He caressed my arm. “I think it scares me … how much I am mad for a woman.”

Men and their emotions. I gave him an out. “Don’t worry. You barely know me.”

“I know how I feel. I knew it when I first saw you. I felt it in the heart. I felt it other places as well.”

The bed was still redolent of pheromones. “We do have chemistry.”

He kissed my bare shoulder. “We have passionate colors.” His hand snaked under the covers. “Black and red, a lethal combination.”

I gasped. “I thought you were going to work.”

“That’s what I am doing.” He slipped his fingers between my legs. “I am going to work.”

“Work as in a job.” I was desperately trying not to be so damn wet under his touch. I was failing miserably. “Salaried work.”

“Ah, but this is so much better.”

I pulled his hand away. “You’ll be late.”

“You are very cruel,” he told me.

Much nicer than saying, You know you want it bad, bitch. My eyes went down to his crotch, then up to his expectant face. He raised his eyebrows. He was waiting for a sign.

I smiled.

His clothes were off in thirty seconds. Fifteen minutes after that, he was dressed again. He eyed me in bed and I saw him grow. “I am like a schoolboy.” He checked his watch and frowned. “As frustrated as one, too.”

“It’ll go away as soon as you pull into the hospital parking lot.”

“No doubt.” He started to sit next to me, then thought better of it. He picked up the scrubs. “Can we see each other tonight?”

“I get off late.”

“So we’ll sleep in tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I have to go to a lecture with my mother at nine in the morning.”

“Lecture on what?”

“Art history or something. Mom’s doing a master’s. She’s an eternal student. But I promised I’d go with her. I dare not back out.”

“I defer to Kibud Aim—honoring one’s mother. Tomorrow night?”