Honey Trapped

Chapter One

He sat in the comfortable AC of his Chevy pickup truck, hidden behind a copse of trees. Beyond the chain-link fence of the Humane Society, two women held hands and hugged, completely oblivious to the world around them. They were young, in their early twenties, so he knew getting their attention would be child's play.

He got out of the truck and walked into the gated enclosure, keeping his eye on the women. No other volunteers had arrived yet, and there were barely a handful of prospective adopters roaming around. Capriana Collati, or Pria, his primary target, held the leash of a massive beast of a pit bull who walked sedately beside her. From the time he'd spent watching her volunteer, he knew her focus was to get into the grassy training area before any customers approached her. She would begin her training once safely inside the fenced-off section.

Niki, the friend he had no actual interest in except as an alternate, chose a yappy Chihuahua and joined Pria. Once the gate was closed, he gave them a moment to settle the dogs. He pretended to look over a German Shepherd, his fingers idly scratching its fur through the kennel's fence. When they finally began their training session, he strolled over. Curling his fingers through the fencing, he watched them.

Niki noticed him first and smiled at him distractedly. A few minutes later, Pria noticed him. She blushed and looked away. When Pria decided the animals had had enough, she allowed the dogs to play freely. It was Niki who made her way over to him first. In their usual fashion, where one woman went, so did the other.

Niki looked him over and offered a pretty smile. "Do you like pit bulls or Chihuahuas?"

Pria was by Niki's side, but she had her eyes on the animals. He wanted the attention of both women on him to assess their reactions to him, so he said what he knew would catch Pria's attention. "I have a soft spot for pitties. There really isn't a better breed. They're stubborn, but basically think they're lapdogs."

Pria looked up at him and gave a tentative smile. He turned his smile on her. "You have a way with him. What's his name?"

Pria touched a hand to her earlobe and answered softly, "Mr. Borks."

He let a low, rumbling laugh escape him. Niki's smile widened at the sound and she leaned into the fencing a bit. "They all have silly names. People love that."

"I bet it suits him." As the curious animal came over and sniffed at him through the fence, he knelt down to the dog's level. He placed his open palm against the metal, letting the searching snout catch his scent. Mr. Borks tried licking his hand through the opening. "He definitely looks like he has an opinion." He looked up and gave an engaging grin.

Niki nodded enthusiastically, that flirtatious smile of hers still in place. "He really does."

Pria blushed, her eyes traveling over his face before skittering away.

Her. He decided. It was definitely her. Pria.

***

Holy wet panties, Batman! Pria stared at the man through the fence, feeling a rush as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff. He stood tall, at six feet, and was dressed in basketball shorts and a muscle-up T-shirt with the demeanor of one raised in the streets. Having lived in the Bronx for her whole life, Pria instantly recognized the potential for danger in him. He was a scrapper, but looked like some sort of athletic wear model with his Mediterranean features, olive-brown skin, and muscular build.

His eyes were sharp, assessing. Definitely a man of intelligence. Despite his outward charm, Pria sensed the intensity in him, the recklessness. It was in the way he carried himself, the set of his shoulders, the lift of his chin. The way he leaned against the fencing without actually leaning on it. This was a man who relied on himself. Pria noted the calculation in his eyes as he looked her over, and a little thrill of intrigue tickled her spine.