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Executioner, I wished he’d get it over with and kill me now. The suspense was just as torturous. I inched slowly away from him toward my phone which I’d carelessly placed on the stand at the other end of the sofa.
    “Are you okay?” Carlos inquired.
    My heartbeat ricocheted against my ribcage. “I’m fine.”
    I gritted my teeth and subtly grabbed my cell from the desk, hiding it underneath a portion of my thigh. “How about you? Are you okay?”
    His eyes glanced down and then a slow, understanding smile crossed his face. It was so devilishly handsome, I nearly choked. How twisted would it be if I was attracted to my own murderer!
    “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Jade.” Carlos soothed.
    I shook my head. “Afraid?” – I laughed nervously – “I’m not afraid. Who’s afraid?”
    “You’re biting your bottom lip the way you did last week when that guy tried to manhandle you.” He pointed to my mouth, which I was indeed gripping in my teeth. “And you keep glancing down at your phone.”
    Managing to relax just a tad, I loosened my hold on the device. “How does a simple bartender know so much about this case?” I tapped my chin and leaned closer, “are you with the police?”
    He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m just a regular guy with bills to pay. Just like anybody else.” My eyes raked down of their own accord as I pictured the muscles on his arms, chest and back. Carlos Fuentes was the farthest thing from a regular guy.
    “I should go.” He stood and made his way toward the door. “Lock up tight for the night and don’t come back to work unless you have to, do you understand me?”
    “That’s ridiculous!” I railed. “I have bills to pay too.”
    “You want to lose your life over this?”  He stepped forward.
    I tilted my head and rested my hands on my hips, ready to go a few rounds with this stubborn, obnoxious bartender. Carlos had pushed me around – literally – all night. I’d listened to each of his instruction, well kind of. But we were standing in my house, discussing my life. I refused to be pushed around anymore.
    “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” I insisted, wishing I’d kept my heels on so that I could match his height. Carlos would have towered over me anyway but I always felt more confident in my heels.
    “This isn’t a joke, Jade.”
    “Do I look like I’m laughing?” I threw my arms out and poked him in his well-defined chest. “You’ve been nothing but bossy all night. I don’t take orders from anyone and especially not from you.”
    “ That I know,” he muttered.
    I took it as the insult that it was. “You think you’re so untouchable, Carlos Fuentes?” I poked his chest with each word, slightly stunned by the rock hard mass beneath his black T-shirt. “I know you. You are an entitled, arrogant, presumptuous, pain-in-the-butt!”
    “Would you like another vowel or do you need a moment to consult a thesaurus?” He arched a dark eyebrow.
    I seethed, preparing to order him out of my house, when he dipped his head close to mine and whispered.
    “I know you too, Jade Hunter.” I glared at him, ready to hear the adjectives that men had flung my way since I signed up for this gig. None of them were pretty or flattering in the least.
    But Carlos surprised me. “You are ”–he closed his eyes–“ funny, smart, caring. Incredibly sexy.” He opened his eyes and his dark gaze held me unwaveringly. “And broken.”
    I sputtered. “I am not…”
    “It’s something you hide,” – Carlos interrupted – “under all that witty banter and that sharp temper.” His hand darted out and, with a gentleness that belied the strength in his arms, he ran a finger down my cheek. “I’m not trying to order you around or tell you what to do. See here?” he pointed to his chest, “I’m broken too. I know how it feels and I don’t want you to feel that way. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.”
    His words wrapped