Page 17 of Some Saviors Can Break You

Holstering her gun, Florence resumed walking toward the subway. “How did you find out where I live?”

“I may have called in a favor to get your address. Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.” She should be angry with him, that was a major invasion of her privacy, not to mention it was borderline stalkerish, and yet she felt a little excited. She’d learned as a child not to trust men, and that had carried into adulthood. As a teenager she’d gravitated to bad boys, but after having her heart broken a couple of times, she’d realized men were more trouble than they were worth.

So why did the fact that Eli was pursuing her make her feel like a giddy schoolgirl?

If there was one thing Florence Harris wasn't, it was a giddy schoolgirl.

Until now, apparently.

“I can do contrite if it’s going to convince you to go on a date with me,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, entwining their fingers.

“I’m not sure I should be rewarding this kind of behavior.” The more he persisted in trying to convince her to date him, the more her resolve weakened. Eli was a playboy, used to having women throw themselves at him, she was a cop who couldn’t remember the last date she’d been on. They were about as mismatched a couple as they came. And she wasn't sure she wasready to break down the barriers she had erected around her heart.

“Does that mean if I'm on my best behavior, you’ll say yes?”

“You are impossible,” she said but didn't pull her hand out of his. “If you came by my apartment to offer me a ride, why were you standing watching me in the window? And why didn't you say something when I came out? Why were you following me down the street?”

“I wasn't standing watching you in the window,” Eli said, stopping and releasing her hand so he could place both of his on her shoulders. “When my driver pulled up you were walking down the street. I didn't want to scare you so I was just going to catch up with you and say hi. Was someone watching you?”

Uncertain now that she had to discuss it, Florence wavered. “I thought someone was watching me earlier when I was on the phone, but maybe I just imagined it.”

“I don’t like it.” His brow furrowed, and the charming smile was gone.

“Don’t like what?”

“Someone watching you. Let me drive you to work, Florence, just in case whoever it was is still here somewhere.”

“You do remember thatI'mthe cop, right? I have my gun on me.”

“Like I'd forget,” he said, a small smile curving his lips up. “I'd just feel better if you weren't catching the subway on your own. I saved your life, remember? That means I'm responsible for your safety.”

“You're going to protect me?” she asked dubiously. “Have you ever even held a gun before?”

“I'm a guy, I know all about shooting.” The grin on his face and the teasing tone of his voice coaxed a laugh out of her.

“I don’t mean that kind of shooting,” she said with a pointed look at his groin. “I really have to get going, I'm supposed to be at a crime scene in ten minutes.”

“Then let me drive you. My driver can get you there quicker than the subway can. Come on, Florence,” he coaxed. “This isn’t a date, it’s just one friend helping out another friend.”

“When did we become friends?”

“When I pushed you out of the way of that car that wanted to mow you down. Someone tried to kill you that night, and now you think someone was watching you. Someone who knows where you live. I'm worried about you. Please, let me give you a ride to your crime scene so I know you get there safely.”

It wasn't his logic that got to her.

It wasn't the fact that he probably would be able to get her there quicker than the subway.

It wasn't even that he was asking her rather than telling her, and asking politely.

It was that he’d said he was worried about her.

No one but her brother had ever worried about her.

Her brother and now apparently Eli Lennox.

5:47 P.M.

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