I felt my hands freed and I pulled my arms down, sat up and shook them out. Pins and needles shot up them and I took a deep breath to tamp down my temper. It wouldn’t serve any purpose, I was learning quickly Luke didn’t like my temper and he was a lot stronger than me. He seemed in a mellow mood and I wasn’t going to piss him off; pissing him off wouldn’t get me home and I needed to get home and soon. I figured him going out and buying me contact lens solution meant he thought, for some reason, I was spending the night. My purse was in my Range Rover and I was pretty certain Sissy had called my cell, probably dozens of times, checking in. She was likely panicked. I needed to phone her and quick.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from saying softly as I rubbed at both of my arms, “That hurt.”

He threw the cuffs on the nightstand, twisted at the waist, grabbed my left wrist and started to massage my arm.

Oh my goodness, Luke’s massaging your arm! Isn’t that sweet? Good Ava trilled in my ear.

Jump him! Rip his pants off! Bad Ava shouted in my other ear.

I ignored my advisors and sat, completely still, and registered how nice, warm and strong Luke’s hands were. They felt good. No, they felt great.

Shit.

“I needed to make sure you were safe,” he told me, thankfully pulling me away from thoughts of his hands feeling great.

“They didn’t shoot out my windows,” I pointed out.

“Then I needed to make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”

Hmm.

One, two, three, four, five… okay, temper under control.

“Now that you know I’m safe and I can promise you I won’t do anything stupid,” Tonight, I thought, but did not say, “Can I please go home?”

“No.”

“Luke!”

His hands went to my armpits, he got up, taking me with him and set my feet on the floor.

I had kicked off my flip-flops and they were lying somewhere in the bed. There was something very weird about me, barefoot, standing in Luke’s dark loft with Luke also standing barefoot and shirtless with me. There was something intimate about it, something sweet and nice and wonderful.

Hell and damnation.

He took my hand, led me across the room to a dresser, opened a drawer and took something out. Then he led me to the bar and grabbed the bag. Then he led me to the bathroom, flipped a switch and gave me a gentle push inside. He tossed the stuff in the sink and looked at me.

“Take out your contacts, get changed, we’re going to bed.”

I stood, blinking in the lit room, mouth dropped open and watching the door close through my blinking.

We’re going to bed, WE are going to bed, he said. Yippee! Bad Ava yelled happily in my ear, punching the air and doing a touchdown dance.

He’s so thoughtful, going out to get your contact stuff. I think he’s adorable, Good Ava shared.

Oh for goodness sake. Good Ava needed a reality check. Luke? Adorable? Please.

I sighed. No reason to fight it, because I obviously wasn’t going to win. Tomorrow, he would take me home and I would forget all of this ever happened. This was not likely but I was going with it for the moment.

I pulled the stuff out of the bag, noting he also bought me a toothbrush, took out my contacts and used the bathroom because I needed it, badly. I found this mortifying for some bizarre reason; everyone had to use the bathroom. Still, it wasn’t like I was removed in any way from Luke, there was only one other room in the place, he could probably hear. I was pretty certain I had gone through my whole life, even when he came over with his parents, or we were over it his house, without Luke ever knowing I had any need of the facilities.

Oh well, what the hell.

I washed my hands, took off my clothes, shoved my silver in my jeans pockets and pulled on the tee he had given me. It was seriously cool, old, faded, soft and black with a Triumph motorcycle in silver on the front of it. It was huge on me, coming down over my h*ps to my upper thighs. It felt good on, nice and snug and I tried (hard) not to think of wearing Luke’s t-shirt at the same time, trying to figure out how to steal it.

I folded my clothes neatly, as if my life depended on it. Without anything else to do to delay, I opened the bathroom door, switched off the light and walked into the loft.

The loft was still lit only by the lights outside.

Luke I saw, my heart beginning to beat a little faster in my chest, was lying in bed, sheets to his waist, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling seeming peaceful and Zen, as if he spent a lot of time in that position. This was all I really saw, mainly because without my contacts my vision was blurry. Which I had to admit, still struggling with fidelity to my vibrators, was kind of a bummer.

I walked slowly to the bar, semi-feeling my way with my feet, and put my clothes on a stool. Then I turned to him.

“Can I use your phone?” I asked.

Instead of answering, he took his hands from behind his head, twisted to the nightstand and pulled the phone out of its cradle.

I walked to him and took it from his outstretched hand. “It’s long distance,” I told him.

“Where’s Sissy?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes, mainly because I was also noticing that you didn’t get much by Luke and that was kind of annoying.

“Wyoming.”

“As long as it isn’t England.”

I nearly smiled at him but stopped myself just in time.

I looked at the phone. Then I realized I had a slight problem. Although I had memorized Sissy’s Mom’s number, I couldn’t see the keypad without my contacts. It was a new phone to me, who knew where the buttons were?

Shit.

I was wrong, the going to the bathroom thing was embarrassing, this was mortifying.

I stood there, uncertain. Then I realized I had no choice. Sissy was probably packing the car as I hesitated, ready to come down to find out what happened to me and face my house, empty, or her house, probably cordoned off with police tape. Then she would lose it, thinking Dom had killed me or, more likely, I had killed Dom.

Crap.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought he was looking at me. “I need you to dial the number. I can’t see the phone.”

I didn’t know what I expected him to do. Still, I was surprised that, without hesitation, he sat up and took the phone out of my hand.

“What’s the number?”

I told him, he punched it in with his thumb and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, listening to it ring.

“Good to have you back, babe,” he said, his voice soft, gentle, affectionate and I felt my body jerk in reaction to his tone and his words just before Sissy answered the phone.