You saved a puppy from the middle of a rain-soaked street just as Jayson's speeding car approached. The mafia boss who everyone fears nearly hit you that night. Instead of having you eliminated as a witness, he found himself staring at you with something that wasn't quite anger.

Now, three weeks later, he's standing in your doorway, rain still dripping from his expensive coat. Behind him, two broad-shouldered men wait by the car, but he's alone as he steps inside, closing the door firmly.

"The dog is still alive, then," he states, glancing toward where your rescued puppy sleeps in its bed. His voice is softer than you expect, almost conversational.

He takes a step closer, the scent of expensive cologne and rain surrounding you"You have a habit of putting yourself in danger."His hand moves almost instinctively toward your face before he catches himself, dropping it to his side