Watching Alina approach, kicked up the ramming of my heart against my chest. Every step closer bombarded me with images of her delectable body underneath me. Pictures of her hair wrapped around my fist, and her lips wrapped around my…

“Sorry, but I wanted to make sure she was okay to get home by herself.”

“Are you sure you weren’t trying to convince her to stay?”

“Why? Do you think I’m afraid to be alone with you?” The flush painting her skin was a sure sign I was getting to her. Hopefully in the way that counted.

“There’s no thinking about it. I know you are.”

“How do you not get slapped?” She shook her head and smiled, biting the corner of her lip, and I wasn’t sure if the gesture was to stop her from speaking more of her mind.

“Lucky I guess.” I drained the rest of my drink, but when the waitress approached, I told her I only wanted the bill.

“Are you leaving?” she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. My eyes drifted to her pert nose then to her plump lips, holding my attention for a moment too long. She cleared her throat, and my eyes flew back up to hers. The amber flecks around the irises made the green appear darker. Was that arousal or simply the alcohol?

“We’re leaving,” I replied, acting as if I hadn’t been visually assaulting her, an action I couldn’t seem to help. Reaching into my suit jacket, I pulled out my wallet, prepared to take care of the tab as soon as possible.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she countered, thinking she actually had a choice in the matter. “You can’t just waltz in here and think you can control me.”

I would’ve liked to have said her statement confused me, but unfortunately, it hadn’t. I knew exactly where she was coming from, knowing of some of the issues plaguing her life.

“I’m not trying to control you,” I promised. “But you’ve been drinking, and I’m not allowing you to traipse home all by yourself.”

“Allowing me?” She sounded offended. “Besides, I’m not drunk. Not even close.”

“I didn’t say you were, but your reflexes are impaired.”

“No, they’re not.”

“They. Are,” I enunciated. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” When she continued to glare at me, I decided it was best to try a different approach. I placed my hand over my heart. “I need to make sure you get home safely. Please allow me to have a clear conscience this evening; otherwise, I fear I’ll never get to sleep. I’ll be up all night worrying whether or not you’re lying in a ditch somewhere. And then I’ll be forced to call all the hospitals, and all the police stations just to ensure you—”

“Oh my God! Stop,” she said, a faint smile appearing. “Fine, you can accompany me home. To my front door and that’s it. As long as you stop talking.”