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“’Least you’re dressed all right for a bike. Get on.” I slung my purse over my shoulder and pulled it around to my back to avoid banging the gun against him and betraying its presence, then stood up against the bike and put a tentative hand on the saddle. The rider looked around at me. “You ever ridden before?” I blushed a little, I knew I didn’t look much like a biker babe, though I wore (designer) jeans and an (expensive) leather jacket. “Uh, yes. A while ago. With a helmet.” “Sorry, don’t have one.” He cocked a brow at me. “You could just say a prayer and trust that I’m the one to keep you safe.” I didn’t feel the least bit safe with him, not in any respect, but I didn’t have a lot of choice, so I put a foot up on a piece of chrome and struggled to mount the high back of the saddle, I was only five foot four in three-inch heels and obviously this bike hadn’t been chopped low, not with a rider nearly seven feet tall. He turned and picked me up, lifting me effortlessly into place. Eventually when the seminar ended in the evening we walked out slowly. The only sound was the faint remnants of the seminar discussing and clearing doubts we had left inside. When we reached her car, a sporty little silver Fiat Palio, she opened the door for me. I paused for a moment to look at her, as if for assurance that I was not mistaken about her intentions. She smiled again and I relaxed.It wasn’t a long ride to her place in Adyar but the tension made it feel like an eternity. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her long black hair flowing in the breeze. The way her sleeveless blouse showed so much of her well-toned skin. Just the sight of her was making me tremble. I tried so hard to focus on the road ahead. I looked at the last of the sun rays & beach line disappearing and the moon sitting high in the sky, but my eyes were always drawn back to her. When we pulled into her driveway it was as though we had pulled into the past. It was a small guest house, once part of an.
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