Page 9 of Catch a Tiger

“I can’t.” He lowers his gaze with a twinkle in his eyes. “And neither can you.”

“Why?” Dread fills her. She just knows whatever he’s going to say next isn’t going to be pleasant. The hair on the back of her arms stands on end, and she has the insane urge to hide behind Darius.

He guides her by the shoulders and turns her around. “Because he’s here.”

For a second, she forgot how to breathe. For a second, her heart forgot to beat. And for a second, she forgot to blink. But she blinks now. The air whooshes from her chest. Her heart picks up the pace and floods her system with adrenaline, because there he stands, right at the edge of the counter not fifteen feet away.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. His hair is styled and his striking blue eyes are set on hers.

She yelps, jumps, and backs into Darius’s chest. Shit, shit, shit.

Chest rumbling from quiet laughter, Darius says, “Look what you did.”

He must have known he found the right person, because Mark’s shoulders and expression relax. He takes in Maria, and then Darius, whose hands are still on her shoulders, preventing her from running far, far away.

“Save. Me,” she grinds out. “You will save me from this.”

“Oh no. You made your bed. Now you have to lay in it.”

Panic settles in and she attempts to turn to face him and give him hell, but he keeps her facing forward, toward the man still waiting for her by the coffee bar. “Darius!”

Darius gives her a mischievous grin, shoves her toward Mark, and walks away. Over his shoulder, he says, “See you at home.” And then he’s gone, swallowed by the crowd and leaving her there by herself, huffing and puffing and absolutely terrified.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Mark is watching her every move, taking in her expression, her body language, and her wide eyes. When he sees that she’s struggling with herself about if she’s going to bolt or not, he smirks and leans a hip against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and seemingly settles in. But she makes no move to go to him. Eventually, he lifts a hand and crooks a finger at her.

Gulping, she gathers the nerve and walks up to him. She’s an adult. She can have a conversation with the tiger she eenie meenie minee moed. “You found me.”

“I did.” His voice! Shivers cross her body at the sound of his voice. It’s deep and rich. Deeper than most guys, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t do anything to her.

“How did you find me?” she asks breathlessly. She’s having a hard time getting her heart to calm down.

He scratches his cheek with his thumb as he answers, “You take a lot of pictures of yourself in this place. Especially with the guy who just left. Are he and you . . .”

It takes her a minute to realize what he’s asking. “Oh! No.” She shakes her head. “We’re just friends. Roommates. We live together.” She realizes she’s stammering but his mere presence is intimidating. He towers over her, and his muscles . . . even though he’s wearing a suit, she can clearly see that they’re just as big, if not bigger than his picture showed.

He nods but says nothing else.

Dancing from foot to foot, she asks, “So what are you doing here?”

A smirk plays on his lips and she nearly swoons. God expertly sculpted those lips. She wants more than anything to taste them. “Can’t a guy come to see his girlfriend at her work?”

“Oh.” She looks around wildly. “Um. About that. We don’t have to-”

He pushes off the counter and steps toward her. “What? Are you backing out now?”

She fights the urge to back up a step because her head is swimming with his scent. It’s not cologne. She can’t smell any on him, but it’s a natural aroma packed with pheromones. Her ovaries definitely take notice and scream hallelujah. “Oh. I - Um -”

His smirk widens into the most beautiful and sexy grin she’s ever seen. Under it, she feels like a mouse caught beneath the paws of a tiger. “Don’t you want to at least have a first date?”

“We don’t - I don’t - I can delete it.” She pulls out her phone from her back pocket to do just that, but he gently places his hand over hers. She looks back up at him and nearly whimpers at the way his eyes smolder.

“And what would you say if I told you I didn’t want you to?” His voice is husky and it causes her to blink. That’s not what she expected him to say. In fact, she was sure he was here to get her to delete it. But now? Now he says he doesn’t want her to?

He’s coming on to her, she realizes with a blush rising to her cheeks. She hasn’t been hit on since college before she gained the weight.

“You don’t?” she whispers.

“Have a first date with me, Maria.” She nearly purrs at the sound of his voice. It’s deep, her name sounds like a song.