Cat intrigued Sam and he couldn't help the smile that escaped. He wondered if her brown eyes would turn almost to black in the throes of passion.

No use, Sam, no connections, especially with the boss's daughter. Better stop thinking like that.

He was mad that he actually had to remind himself.

"Any answers will do," she bit out through clenched teeth.

Sam chose to answer the easiest of the questions.

"Actually, I've known your address for a long time. I was wondering if I could come up and talk."

"You expect me to take a strange man up to my apartment. Um, let me think for a second. No."

He didn't think for a second she'd actually say yes to his request, but he found himself laughing anyway.

"You're right, I'm sorry. How about we go into the bar."

"Why?"

Was she always this difficult?

"Why not?"

He lifted his shoulder in a partial shrug.

Sam was pretty sure she'd feel safe in the bar, even though he didn't want to have this conversation in public. He'd studied her so much and knew so much about her he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.

She studied him, presumably weighing her kickboxing expertise against his size and stature, and probably the fact that he was wearing a designer suit, and came up with her as the victor if he tried anything. Of course, she had no way of knowing he could kill a man with his bare hands at least thirteen different ways, most of which wouldn't even cause him to break a sweat.

She also seemed to come to the conclusion that if he tried anything, her friends at the bar would protect her.

"All right," she finally relented, "but just so you know, even if you are the nicest guy on earth, I'm just not in the market for a relationship right now."

He opened the door, signaling her to precede him. As she passed, Sam leaned down so his mouth was just a breath away from her ear.

"I'm not in the market for a relationship either, and just so you know…" He backed away from her slightly so he could take her all in, from the tips of her toes, up her toned legs and flat stomach, over the swell of her breasts to the top of her head. "I'm not the nicest guy in the world."

* * * *

No one had ever undressed Catherine with his eyes before. Tingles still skittered up and down her spine.

She waved at Howie, the bartender, before motioning Sam to a secluded booth in the corner. The bar was deserted save for a few heavy drinkers sitting at the bar. A cloud of cigarette smoke floated near the ceiling.

They sat down at an old scarred wooden table on benches that could use reupholstering.

"If you want something to drink you're going to have to go to the bar and get it yourself. This isn't exactly the kind of establishment that has a wait staff."

Sam smiled at her, a smile that didn't give away any information about what he was thinking. How in the hell did he do that?

"Can I get you anything?"

He tossed his briefcase, which probably cost more than her monthly salary, carelessly across the booth.

"The bartender knows what I like," Cat said.

Sam strode to the bar with purpose. Cat imagined he did everything with purpose. There was definitely an intensity about Sam she didn't think she'd ever seen before.

What would it be like to be on the receiving end of all that intensity? No doubt he'd be an incredible lover.