I stopped talking and he stared at me.

It was then I saw his eyes were blue. A strange, startling, dark, vibrant, Prussian blue.

And they were beautiful, the color, the shape, the long, curving lashes.

My breath stuck in my throat.

Then his eyes dropped but not to my breasts, my hips or my legs.

To my arm which was attached to my hand that was clutching my purse, my cell and had my coat draped over it.

Then they cut back to my face.

Then in his smooth, deep voice, he declared, “I’ll take you home.”

I blinked.

He moved.

I braced but before I could do a thing about it or say a word, he slid his phone from my fingers, leaned deep into me and I smelled that the aftershave or cologne was his.

I was right. It was attractive. So attractive all I could do was stand still and take in that glorious scent.

He put the phone in its charger then leaned back and took my coat from my arm.

At that, I came out of my freeze.

“Um… I don’t –” I started but clamped my mouth shut when his fingers curled around my upper arm and suddenly I found my body turned so my back was to him.

“Arm,” he ordered and I twisted my neck to look at him at the same time I tried to force myself to breathe.

“What?” I whispered.

He was standing behind me with my coat held up for me to slide into.

“Arm,” he repeated, sounding a lot less patient and considering he didn’t sound patient at all before, this was even more terrifying.

“I think –” I started but said no more when his hand shot out, grabbed my wrist and pulled it back. It wasn’t rough, it didn’t hurt but I was shocked all the same.

Then he dipped my coat and slid it up my arm.

“Other arm,” he commanded and, without delay, I awkwardly switched my purse and cell to my other hand and reached behind me to find the sleeve of my coat.

In no time I felt his hands settling it on my shoulders then one moved, wrapped around my bicep and suddenly I was facing him. Then I was moving with him to the door, his hand still on my arm.

I struggled but I found my voice.

“I’m really okay with a taxi,” I told him as he pulled me out of the room, slightly tugged my arm and brought me to a stop.

Totally ignoring me, he curved his torso around the door, did something around the knob, then came out, his hand going the other way and then the lights were extinguished making the room go black. Then he closed the door, locked it, pocketed the key and turned us to the hall.

He did all of this with his hand still holding my arm.

It was at this point I realized my heart was racing and I was finding it difficult to breathe.

Then I stopped breathing altogether when he shifted quickly, bending into me. I had time enough to sway an inch away from him before I was up in his arms.

My legs flying through the air, reflexively, I slid one arm around his hard-muscled shoulders, the other one swinging out in front of him to grab my hand at his neck and hold on as he strode over the coats, walking right on the pile.

Holy crap!

Once free of the coats, he bent and dropped me to my feet. It again wasn’t rough but it wasn’t gentle and my body jolted when my feet hit floor. I had no time to recover, not from being on my feet again, not even from being off them, not from the easy way he swung me into his arms like I weighed as much as a body pillow.

Not from any of it.

Not before his fingers curled around my upper arm again and he propelled me down the hall and around the bend in it.

Okay, I had to get control of this situation and do it now.

I opened my mouth to do just that at the same time I was about to tug my arm from his hold when he stopped abruptly, stopping me with him. Then his head slightly cocked. His angry, blue eyes cut to me and I forgot I had to get control of the situation and do it now. I forgot everything.

Then for some reason he adjusted me, not gently, not cruelly but definitely firmly to the side of one of the doors in the hall.

He let me go and without knocking, he opened the door but where I was situated, I couldn’t see inside.

I heard a woman’s horrified gasp and a man starting, “What the –?”

“I gotta take someone home,” my unwelcome ride told the couple. “You got that time to turn off the fuckin’ music, empty this fuckin’ place of bodies and clean up as much as you can. She wants to finish that ride you’re meanin’ to give her, she helps you clear out this place. She doesn’t help, get her ass outta here too. You don’t want me to come home to see you not takin’ me seriously and I hope you get me ‘cause I’m not fuckin’ with you, Nick, and I am not happy.”

Then he stepped out, closed the door, grabbed my arm again and pulled me down the hall.

My first thought was that he’d just walked in on Sandrine and Nick.

My second thought was obviously Nick had a less spectacular room.

My third thought was that he’d positioned me to the side of the door. I found this surprising and intriguing because he’d heard them in there. They couldn’t have gotten far but they definitely were moving things on. Still, he’d shielded me from whatever was behind that closed door and I didn’t know what to make of it.

We’d rounded the other hall on our way to the front door when I cleared these thoughts and came back to the matter at hand.

“Um… listen, uh…” Damn! “Um, I don’t know your name but –”

“Knight,” he stated, cutting me off.

“Right, Mr. Knight –”

“No, Knight,” he interrupted me again then stopped me by one of the doors in the hall, let me go and opened the door.

“That’s what I said, Knight,” I told him. “Now, Mr. Knight –”

He came out of that door with his overcoat and turned his eyes to me.

I interrupted myself then when they hit me and I clamped my mouth closed.

“No, not Mr. Knight. Knight. My name is Knight.”

I stared up at him as he shrugged on his overcoat and then asked, “Your Christian name is Knight?”

“If that means first name, yeah,” he answered, grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to the front door.

As he did, curious at this information even though I should be seeing to other business, I asked, “With a ‘K’?”

He looked down at me as he opened the door, “Yeah, babe, with a ‘K’.”

Then he pulled me out the door.

“That’s an unusual name,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he agreed, dragging me down the luxuriant hall toward the elevators.

“I kind of like it,” I blurted because I did but after I blurted that I kind of wished I didn’t.

“I can die happy,” he murmured.

I pulled in breath at his murmured, mild sarcasm which was kind of funny instead of being rude and this man did not strike me as a guy who could be funny, kind of or otherwise.

He pulled me to a stop at the elevator and I watched him lean in and tag the button. This was when I saw he had hands that matched his body. Attractive. Long fingers. Well-veined. They weren’t professionally manicured but his nails were well-kept even if his hands looked like the hands of a man who didn’t have a lavish bedroom in an opulent apartment and wore expensive shoes, tailored shirts in a color that suited him so well a stylist had to pick them for him and pricey overcoats.

Time to stop thinking about his hands and sort this.

“Knight, I appreciate the offer, really. Thank you but truly, I can get a taxi home.”

“Yeah, you can but you aren’t.”

“I –”

His eyes sliced to me and I braced.

“Listen, babe, I take you home I’m doin’ something. Something that requires my attention. Like driving, getting a woman home safe then driving back here. This will give me time maybe to calm down. And this will take my mind off the fact I wanna rip Nick’s dick off, shove it up his ass and send that motherfucker over my balcony.”

Without my brain telling them to do so, I yanked my arm free of his hold, my feet took me one step away from him and my hand came up to press against the gleaming, wood-paneled wall by the elevator as I stared up at him.

I didn’t know if he meant this. I didn’t think he did. It would be bad form to toss your roommate over a balcony even if he did have a party you obviously weren’t invited to that happened to occur in your own home. Not to mention, it was highly illegal.

I did know he was angry.

And last I knew he didn’t mind sharing that and just how angry he was and doing it to a woman he did not know in any way. He’d dragged me through an apartment, didn’t let me finish hardly any sentences and picked me up to carry me over a pile of coats that he obviously threw in the hallway.

I had my hand on the wall because my legs were shaking and I needed it there to help hold me up. And my legs were shaking because I remembered he terrified me. And there was reason. He was terrifying.

As I stood there wondering if I should scream at the top of my lungs or turn on my cheap (but cute) high-heeled sandal and run as fast as I could, something happened.

He started paying attention to me.

Although it was sheer lunacy that I considered it unflattering, I did and what I considered unflattering was the fact that suddenly he seemed to be looking at me and actually seeing me. Until I shifted away from him, I didn’t exist. I was just an excuse to get him away from his apartment and Nick before he let loose his fury. Now, he was looking at me, his eyes moving over me, taking me in. My face. My hair. My hand pressed against the wood paneling. Down the length of me to my shoes and up.

And when his eyes caught mine again, his face was no different. Hard jaw, angry eyes, pissed but not at me.

But his voice was soft when he said, “I won’t hurt you.”

“I’d really like to take a taxi,” I whispered.

Swift and almost imperceptibly but I caught it and he meant me to, his eyes dropped to my feet then came back to mine.

“Taxi won’t be a hit?” he asked, still soft, and I knew that he knew from what he saw of me that paying for a taxi would be a hit for me.

I straightened my spine, dropped my hand and assured him, “I’ll be fine.”

The elevator doors opened and without taking his eyes from me, he lifted his hand to catch one so it wouldn’t close and he spoke. “I’ll take you home. Safe. You’ll have no problems from me. Just a ride. And you’re doin’ me a favor, givin’ me a chance to calm my shit. But swear to Christ, you can trust me.”

“I don’t –”

“Babe, swear to Christ, I’m just a ride. Take advantage. And do me a favor and give me an excuse to get outta here.”

I saw his anger now. I remembered what I felt when he walked into the apartment earlier. And it was fresh in my mind all that had just happened to me at his hand. None of it hurt me but all of it was bizarre in a dangerous, scary way that demonstrated irrefutably that I should know better than to court further time and attention from this man.

And still, I found my head tipping down so I could look at my feet. Feet that were walking me toward the elevator.

Knight shifted his arm high and I ducked under it to enter and he entered after me.

The doors started closing as he tagged the button B2.

I stared at the doors.

Yes. Sheer lunacy.

“You’re called?”

My neck twisted and my eyes moved up to his to see his looking at down me.

“What?” I asked.

“Name, babe.”

“Anya.”

He stared at me.

Then he asked, “Anya?”

“Anya,” I confirmed.

“Anya,” he repeated and I nodded. “And you think my name’s unusual?”

“Yes, I’ve never met anyone named Knight,” I informed him.

“And I’ve never met anyone named Anya,” he informed me. “What is that?”

“What is what?”

“Your name.”

“It’s a family name. As in, my grandmother’s.”

“Before that,” he stated.

“It was her grandmother’s,” I shared.

“And before that,” he pushed then explained, “Origins.”

“Russian,” I told him.

“You’re Russian?” he asked.

“My grandmother was,” I answered.

“She grow up here?” he asked.

“No, she grew up in St. Petersburg when it was called Leningrad. But she died here.”

His head cocked slightly to the side but his face remained impassive. “Died?”