“By not picking up the phone and dialing the number?”

“That’s . . . disheartening.”

“Disheartening?”

“Disheartening.”

“Why?”

“Because you need family. Everybody needs family.”

He shrugged, still not sure why she seemed so upset about it. “I guess I’m lucky then.”

“I guess.” She didn’t say anything for a long time after that, simply stared out the window. He wondered what she was looking at, thinking about. Was she thinking about him? His lack of family? Or was she still angry at him? Maybe her mind had jumped to another topic all together? The world? Society? Politics?

What was the name of that actor in “Godfather Part Two”? I know I saw him in that old episode of “Law & Order” last night, but I can’t remember his damn name. It’s going to drive me crazy until I remember!

They were less than a mile from the restaurant they were going to. Bo had already called ahead, and the owner would have his best table set up and waiting for them. But first Bo had to get something out of the way, so he pulled over at a corner on a deserted street.

She looked around. “Why are we stopping?”

He let out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed. “This watch is totally not fake, is it?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Blayne.” He turned a little in the seat so he could face her. “First off, I’m sorry I ambushed you earlier.”

“You should be. There has to be an easier way for you to get a date.”

“With anyone else, but you weren’t giving me much choice.”

Her hands dropped in her lap. “What does that mean?”

“It means . . . it means . . .” Bo shook his head. He couldn’t think straight. Not with her so close. “Fuck it. Who cares what it means?”

“If you’re going to get all pissy about it—what are you doing?”

And that’s when Bo kissed her, his mouth pressing warm and firm against hers, his tongue easing its way between her lips.

The contact startled her simply because she really hadn’t been expecting it. But not expecting it didn’t mean it wasn’t welcome. And goddamn if the man could kiss as well as he played hockey.

Blayne tilted her head to the side so they could both more easily enjoy the other’s mouth and tongue. God, she was so enjoying. He tasted good, his tongue stroking hers in a way that made her think of oral sex. She didn’t know why, but she wondered what he could do when they got around to that . . .

Wait. If they got around to that. If. The man wasn’t in yet. Right? Right, Blayne?

Huh?

Bo suddenly pulled back from her, his tongue licking his lipsas if he were still tasting her, his eyes locked on her mouth. Had he closed his eyes at all when he’d kissed her? “I’ll be honest,” he murmured. “I’m not sure if that helped the situation or made the rest of the night that much longer if I can’t do that again until I take you to your front door.”

If she could speak, she’d totally agree with him. Maybe she should forget about all her recent rules about hooking up with a guy. Maybe she should just throw caution to the wind, forget about the pasta, and take the big hybrid home to her way tiny apartment and put her really sturdy bed to use. True, it wasn’t like her but . . . but . . .

But God she really wanted to.

Blayne grabbed his hand and said, “Bo—”

The sound of shattering glass filled Bo’s way-too-big truck, and the hybrid’s big chest and shoulders jerked forward, shoving Blayne back into the passenger side door, Bo’s body keeping her pinned there.

Wincing from the sudden pain in her head where her skull had met the door, Blayne pushed at Bo’s shoulder. “Bo?” she called out. “Bo? Can you hear me?”

Confused as hell, Blayne leaned up a bit. The window hadn’t been destroyed completely. Instead there was a healthy-size hole in it and cracks running through the glass that was left. Looking back down at the hybrid on her, she saw the metal tip of something poking out of his brown-and-white mane. Blayne reached around and gripped it, pulling it out until the dart slid from his skin. She lifted it up and stared.

“Fuck—”

The passenger door flew open, and since Blayne had been leaning on it, she fell back with it. She saw black ski masks and knew she was in trouble.

Someone jammed a needle into her neck, and she felt liquid forced into her veins. She cried out, her first instinct to fight, but she remembered how fast Bo dropped, and she went limp instead, her eyes closing.

Hands grabbed hold of her arms and legs and lifted her out of Bo’s truck. She felt her body carried to a running vehicle. She sensed it was a van by the way they were able to haul her in and get in with her without any trouble. She heard a male voice ask, “Kill the other one?”

“No. Leave him.”

Blayne felt a moment of relief flood her as they placed her on a bench and the van doors were slammed shut. The van sped off and Blayne worked hard not to panic. She needed to remain calm, to handle this rationally. Not easy when she felt trapped, like the walls of the van were closing in, like they’d already locked her up in a cage.

And if there was one thing Blayne hated, it was feeling trapped.

She was gone. But unlike last time, she hadn’t run from him. She’d been taken. And he wanted her back. He wanted her back right now.