The apartment had an open floor plan. A spiral staircase in the corner led to a loftlike area, a hallway, and a series of closed doors on the second floor, probably more bedrooms or maybe an office.

It looked like a rich man's bachelor pad and had probably been decorated professionally. She couldn't really picture Jack picking out the elegant beige couch with the matching red embroidered cushions, or the gorgeous blue glass vase on the classy pedestal that stood against one wall.

Or maybe one of his friends had helped him. Maybe after they'd gone shopping, he'd stripped her, pressed her over the back of the loveseat, and taken her from behind until she'd yelled out her climax to his swanky soundproofed apartment.

Mira sighed. Clearly, she needed counseling and medication. The sexual thoughts and images that kept leaping into her mind were unusual for her. Not to mention, the thought of Jack with another woman seemed strangely unwelcome. She glowered at Jack as she passed into the kitchen as if it was his fault she'd taken leave of her senses.

Well, hell. It was his fault.

The kitchen was large, with a middle island. Above the island hung a big rack with copper pots and crystal wine glasses. Two places were set at a table in the recessed breakfast nook. Jack walked over with a pan and scooped a couple eggs and a few pieces of bacon onto both plates. Her stomach growled.

She sat down at the place set with a bottle of aspirin. He was so considerate, her abductor. Mira poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table and dug in only to get a mouthful of yuck. "It's cold," she complained.

Jack reached out and touched her plate. "That should be better.”

Shooting him a look that clearly said I think you're crazy, she took another bite of eggs and nearly had to spit them out they were so hot. Mira set her fork down and eyed him warily.

"How much proof do you need, Mira?" Jack reached out and gathered her pentagram in his hand. He rubbed his knuckles against her collarbone until she shivered and her nipples hardened.

"How can you blame me for doubting such a crazy story?”

He pulled her gently forward until her nose was a few inches from his. His breath stirred the fine hairs framing her face. Those sensual lips were only a short space from her mouth. Mira's heart hammered in her chest. "This pentagram, I don't need to explain the symbol to you," he purred in his chocolate-smooth voice.

She licked her lips and blinked nervously a couple of times. "It depends on your belief system. To me it symbolizes four points for the elements—earth, air, water, and fire. The top point is for Spirit. I'm aware how closely it aligns to your system of... m-magick." She had to fight to get the last word out.