Nah, I couldn’t leave Cookie. Or Gemma. Or Mr. Wong. Or … Reyes popped into my head no matter how hard I tried to keep him out. His shimmering dark eyes and long thick lashes. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t leave him either.

Yet kneeling in front of me was one of the sweetest men I’d ever met. Biker or not, he knew how to treat a girl.

True, he duct-taped me to a chair, but that had been my idea.

“I’ll let you know where we are when we get there,” he said, not waiting for an answer from me. “You’ll always be welcome.”

“Right,” I scoffed, not believing him for a minute. “You’ll find some Mexican beauty who makes you want to get married and have pequeños banditos for the first time in your life, and you’ll forget all about me.”

The sadness that washed over him spilled out into me. “Not likely, love.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, then covered it with his own, taking it between his teeth and suckling before pressing his mouth to mine.

It was a nice kiss, soft and unhurried, and as welcome as a delicate rain on the high plains. It was what I needed. A healing kind of karma swam around me as he pulled my h*ps to his. I spread my knees and reveled in the feel of his erection against my most sensitive girl part. And I swore if I hadn’t been taped down, I would have jumped him right then and there. I was such a hussy.

“I’m not sure you should be doing that, Miss Charlotte.”

I broke off the kiss with a breathless gasp. Rocket was standing right behind Donovan, hands on his h*ps in disapproval.

“Rocket,” I said, straightening in the chair. “Donovan was just helping me with … my contacts.”

Donovan raised his brows humorously.

Rocket furrowed his. “Did you swallow them?”

Rocket was like a giant Pillsbury Doughboy with a kind face and a mushy body, which made him the best hugger around.

“No, I didn’t swallow them. He was just—” Before I could come up with another plausible lie, I looked over and saw Strawberry Shortcake, a departed nine-year-old who could make me cringe at forty paces. I hadn’t seen her in a while, so it was actually nice to know she was still here and okay. But she wasn’t what gave me pause. While she also stood with her hands on her hips, disapproval lining her pretty face, right beside her stood a tiny girl with a short dark bob and overalls.

As Donovan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see what I was seeing, I let a soft smile spread over my face. I turned my palm up, twisting my arm in my shirtsleeve as the tape held it in place, inviting her closer, and said, “You must be Blue.”

Her oval face, tiny and so pale, it was hard to make out her features other than her huge dark eyes, was a picture of shock and awe. She’d obviously never seen anyone kiss before. If I’d known that would lure her to me, I would have dragged Donovan in here and made out with him ages ago.

Rocket turned back to her, and he seemed just as surprised as I was to see her standing there.

Strawberry walked up then, her mouth a thin line of disappointment. “Who is he?” she asked, pointing at the scruffy guy who still had his hands wrapped around my ass.

With a grin, I said, “This is Donovan. He just happens to own this building you’re standing in.”

“I thought you said you were going to go on a date with my brother.”

For her sake, I tamped down the horror I felt at the prospect of dating Taft, her cop brother. He was okay as far as guys went, but I’d never felt the slightest inclination to bang him, and that was my criteria for dating. If that primal attraction wasn’t there from the get-go, it would likely never show up. Not in my world, anyway.

“No, you said I was going to go on a date with your brother.” I leaned over and kissed her nose, an act she didn’t appreciate but one I enjoyed immensely. “As it turns out, he’s all booked up.”

“Yes, with gross girls who wear too much makeup. You may not be very pretty, but at least you don’t wear too much makeup.”

I coughed back a retort. “Thank you, I think. But Donovan’s a pretty good guy despite his tendency to rob banks.”

“Really?” Her eyes came to life as she looked at him with a whole new perspective. “He’s a bank robber like Jesse James? I just thought he was a scruffy biker guy.”

I laughed. Who knew the kid would be attracted to bank robbers? “He is a scruffy biker guy.”

“Hey,” he said, nudging me with his knee.

“But there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

His mouth curved into something resembling doubt. “Are you really having a conversation with someone else or are you just avoiding the issue at hand?”

“And what issue would that be?”

“That I may never see you again.” His expression remained impassive, but his emotions grew somber.

“D,” Eric yelled from the stairs, “we have to hit it!”

He took in a deep draft of air and ran his fingers down my jaw and under my chin. “If I don’t hear from you in two hours, I’m going to assume you’re still down here and send help.”

My brows shot up. “I’ve seen the kind of help you have,” I said, referring to his merry band of criminal associates. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“I’ll call the police,” he corrected. “So let me know when you get out of here.”

“Okay, promise.”