Mira leaned against the wall and stared at the door with a mixture of deep physical satisfaction and incredible confusion. Her body still tingled with the awareness of him. Her sex throbbed with the memory of his touch. The taste of him still lay on her tongue and the rawness of his words still rang in her ears.

I'm the last man on Earth who deserves you.

EIGHT

SEVEN

MlRA TUCKED HER LEGS BENEATH HER ON THE couch and flipped through Jack's copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, only half paying attention to it, though she loved the novel. Mostly, she watched Jack stomp around the living room.

He'd barely had a conversation with her during the last two days, limiting his communication to single-word answers and grunts. The man had brooding down to an art form.

What had passed between them after he'd returned from shopping remained like an elephant in the living room. It was there. It was huge. But they were both ignoring it.

Dinners, while yummy (as evidenced by the pound or two she'd gained), were especially awkward. They ate quickly and made minimal conversation. A television would have been good, would've covered up the lack of human voices in the apartment. They played music instead, and Jack spent a lot of time in his office or the "secret" locked room upstairs.

Clearly, he wanted to get as far from her as possible, but couldn't. Not while a threat remained against her.

It was awkward for her too. She barely knew the man, and she'd not only allowed him access to the old love grotto, he'd brought her to orgasm.

The worst part was that she'd let him do it again in a heartbeat. He'd touched her just right. She shivered at the memory, her body growing warm.

With Ben it had always pretty much just been about him. They'd have sex missionary style; maybe sometimes she'd be on top. Occasionally, he'd fumble a bit at her clit to try and make her come, but he'd give up fast. She'd been too afraid to touch herself during sex, fearing she'd offend him.

They just hadn't been a good fit in the bedroom. They'd lacked trust and good communication from day one. Mira bit the inside of her lip until it hurt, remembering the things Ben had said about his reasons for seeking sex outside their marriage. In hindsight, they hadn't been a good fit in any respect. She wished she'd seen that when she'd first met him.

She tossed the book to the coffee table and watched Jack stand at the wall of windows that overlooked downtown Minneapolis, idly flicking a chunky silver Zippo on and off.

Mira let her gaze trace his broad, tall frame. She had to admit that he made her feel safe, even though what she knew about him should've made her feel less than reassured.