“Is he still there?” she asked, the anxiety in her voice evident.
“He’s gone now. Were you being followed?” I asked, sliding in across from her.
“Y-yes.”
I had a lot of other questions, but I remained silent, knowing I had to tread carefully.
Taylor slid my whiskey and a glass of wine on the table and walked away. I pushed the glass toward her. “Have a sip.”
She shook her head.
“Of course, I’m sorry,” I replied, shaking my head. She was scared and being followed—she wasn’t going to accept a glass of wine from a stranger. I picked it up and took a drink.
“It’s perfectly safe,” I assured her.
Her hand trembled, and she took a long sip from the glass, letting out a sigh.
“I’ll pay for my wine and leave. I’m sorry.” She met my gaze, the beauty of her eyes startling me again. Set under delicate eyebrows, they were wide and lovely. Even scared, they were beautiful.
“I ordered you dinner. You can eat and relax. You’ll be safe.”
She frowned, her brow furrowing. “Why would you do that?” she asked.
I shrugged, leaning my arm across the back of the booth. “Because I can,” I replied. “Obviously, you’re in trouble and you need help. I can offer that help to you. But first, you need to warm up, relax, and eat, then you can tell me what happened.”
She blinked. “Why?” she repeated.
I smiled. “Because you chose me to help you. You kissed me.” I couldn’t help winking at her. “Not that kissing you was a chore.”
“Really,” she replied, edging toward the end of the booth. “I’ll be fine.”
I put my hand out to stop her. “Don’t go.”
She looked down where my hand rested on her sleeve. “I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
I shook my head. “Trouble and I are old friends.”
Taylor arrived with dinner, the shepherd’s pie bubbling in the casserole dishes, the steam wafting in the air bringing the delicious aroma to my nose. The mixed salads and warm loaves of bread rounded out the tray. I looked at her after he left, the food sitting on the table.
“You wouldn’t make me eat alone now, would you?”
She hesitated.
“Please,” I said simply.
Her shoulders slumped. “Okay. Just dinner, though. Then I’ll leave you in peace.”
I leaned closer. “You might want to rethink that, pretty lady. Of all the men you chose to kiss, I was the right pick. I can help you.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.
I held out my hand. “Damien DeSalvo.”
She let me wrap my fingers around hers. “Raven Bailey.”
Raven. The name suited her.
“A pleasure. Now eat up. You have a story to tell, and I want to hear it.”