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name; he dropped his when he left foster care. Like a suit of clothing, Griff shed the outer persona of his grueling, lonely lost years of his boyhood. Once he exited the system, he refused to allow any remnants of doubt to strangle him or any chance he had left. His survival and success depended on creating a new life and forging ahead. Losing was never an option. Even if that meant dismissing his last concrete, public link to his father.
    “I’m still trying to live up to the King name. Someday I hope I can.”
    That hit him hard.
    What would she think of him when he fulfilled his mission to destroy what she held dear?
     
    ***
     
    After he allowed her to take pictures on her cell phone of him on the bike, he sighed with relief.
    Griffin opened the car door, helping her in.
    “Wow!” she exclaimed. “Real leather.”
    He groaned and shook his head. A part of him liked her excitement at discovering new things. But, the part he shielded warned him: She’s getting too close. She knows too much already. Warning alarms went off in his head. Danger!
    Now easing into the driver’s seat, he prayed for strength.
    She pointed to each instrument, asking what each one was and did.
    He answered, one after the other, keeping himself on autopilot. Maybe, just maybe, he’d keep his feelings bottled up, too. Her light, feminine scent drifted to him as she leaned close. Griff sucked in a sharp breath. He doubted it.
    “Would you let me borrow this sometime? Well, after I learn how to drive.”
    Surprised, he pulled back. “You don’t know how to drive?”
    “Nope. Not when I had drivers most of my life. At one time, King’s Department Store thrived, leading the pack. There were threats.” She frowned, and then shivered. “It was scary. I remember the police coming to the house.”
    Griffin couldn’t imagine the thought of her being that vulnerable. “You need to take some self-defense classes.”
    “You can teach me.”
    “Think again.” He pointed to the glove compartment. “Garage door opener.”
    She fished it out, and then handed it to him. “Why not?”
    “I have better things to do with my time.” Like stay away from sexy pixies.
    “Like what? Decorate?”
    He shoved the garage door opener onto the dash, and then twisted to face her, his arm resting on the back of her seat. Leaning close, he warned, “Priscilla King, you will not always get your way with me. No matter what tactics you try.”
    She gasped; her breath feathered across his face.
    An ache shot through him. Dropping his stare to her lips, he debated the wisdom of everything he’d done since meeting her last night.
     
    ***
     
    His intensity snatched the breath right out of her. Priscilla stared into his eyes, seeing her stunned expression reflected there. Looking deeper, she saw not anger, but desire blazing. She gulped hard.
    If there were anything she ever wanted, it was to kiss him. Right now.
    With all the bravery she could muster, she reached up, cupping his face between her hands. Thankfully, he didn’t pull away. She glanced from his mouth to his eyes, and then back again. The moment she placed her lips on his, she moaned. “Soft,” she whispered in awe.
    Never having kissed a man before, she did what felt good, sliding her lips across his. Once. Twice. He didn’t resist. When she pulled back, he stopped her.
    Griff caught her chin in his hand. “Relax,” he murmured. It was his turn to cover her lips with his. He moved his over hers with expert ease, and then sliced her lips apart with his tongue. She gasped. He groaned.
    Carried away with desire licking through her, Priscilla matched his movements, twirling her tongue with his. His hot breath mingled with hers and sent heat coursing in her body. A blaze of fire built, low and deep.
    Pulling slightly away, Griff ended it, and then placed a gentle kiss on her swollen lips. He removed her hands from his face and set her away from him. Tugging her seatbelt around her, he clicked it