Nothing was going to jump out and get her. She watched the bag float across the lot like some weird jellyfish. Then, she turned toward her car, and slammed into something that stopped her dead.

Saylor let out a yelp. The pack fell from her shoulder, hitting the pavement with a thud. Hands reached out and grabbed her by the arms before she fell.

She sucked in her breath to scream.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice said.

The hands that held her disappeared.

Then, Saylor let out a growling scream that echoed off the pine trees. She brought the hand up that held the car keys. She was ready to fight.

“Please,” the voice said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Saylor took a step back. That was a mistake. She tripped over her pack and landed solidly on her butt. She looked toward her car. Twenty feet, maybe twenty-five. She was just at the edge of the pool of light coming from the parking lot light. The man stepped from the shadows and offered his hand. “Here. Let me help you up,” he said.

“Stay away,” she shot back, scooting across the pavement.

He raised his hands, palms up. “Okay, okay.”

Saylor got her feet under her and stood. Not taking her eyes off of him, she reached for her pack and snatched it up.

The man smiled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Well. You should,” she said, shouldering the pack. The guy did look non-threatening, standing there smiling with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s not that often that my presence knocks a girl off her feet,” he said, grinning.

Saylor stifled a giggle. She was really too tired for this. You don’t giggle at a strange man in a dark parking lot, late on a Saturday night, even if he was very handsome standing there in a shaft of moonlight. And he was. Saylor could see that his hair was a silvery blond, his eyes a deep, intense blue. The moonlight complimented him well. She felt a stirring deep inside herself as she gazed up into his eyes.

“My name is Thane,” he said, pulling his right hand out of his pocket and offering it to her.

Before she had the sense to stop herself, she was shaking his hand. “Saylor,” she said. “Saylor Keene.” God, that was really stupid, she thought.

“Nice to meet you, Saylor Keene.”

Okay, rapists don’t introduce themselves. But she’d better get her butt out of here, even if this Thane did whet her appetite. “Nice to meet you, Thane, but if you’ll excuse me, I really have to go.”

He released her hand. Saylor rubbed it. Where he had touched it, there was an electrifying tingle, almost like she had been shocked.

She sidestepped toward her car. “Bye.”

“Sweet dreams,” Thane replied.