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“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not polite to stare?”
That seemed to jar him a bit. He straightened, his expression grim at best.
“I apologize. I was—”
“Checking me out. Yeah, I got that loud and clear.”
Damn, I was brave. He cleared his throat, hiding a smile now.
“I was going to say, examining you.” He gestured to my neck.
“Examining? Why? Are you a doctor?”
“Of sorts.”
“What sort of sort?”
“I have a doctorate.”
No way. He seemed too young to have a Ph.D.
“A doctorate in what?” I asked skeptically.
“Philosophy.”
“Your expertise?” I asked, noting the somewhat sarcastic lilt in my voice. He didn’t bat an eye.
“My thesis was on how weapons reflect the savagery and sophistication of a culture and society.”
That accent again. Definitely European. But what country?
“Well, a Ph.D. in weaponry may give you some idea how to inflict injuries, but it doesn’t qualify you toexamineand diagnose them.”
“True.”
Ha! One point for me.
“So…” I let the word hang. “How could you possibly have a Ph.D. in anything at your age?”
“I’m older than I appear.”
A slow, slow devastating smile. A fluttering in my stomach felt like a frantic flock of blind birds.Re-lax, Gen.Thank God he spoke because, for the moment, my lips had completely forgotten how to form words.
“I simply wanted to determine whether you’d recovered from last night’s attack,” he said, pushing off my car and coming closer.
Oh no. He was going to touch me.Genevieve Elizabeth Drake, do NOT faint.
He reached out and gently folded back my hoodie. He lifted my chin and angled it so that he could see the marks I knew were purpled along the left side. Why was I letting this stranger get so close? Even if he was picture-book gorgeous. I pushed his hand away and stepped around him to my car.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, pulling the keys from the front pocket of my backpack. “What I want to know is how you knew where to find me. And why are you following me? It’s a bit creepy, even if you did save my life last night.”
We’d now switched places. I leaned back against my car. He stood there,examiningme again, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of those yummy jeans.
“Yesterday was your twentieth birthday, wasn’t it?”
Okay. Double creepy.
“How did you know?”
