“You want to go with me?”

“Yes. Next appointment, let me know. I’ll go with you.”

“What if you’re working?”

“One of us will make ourselves free. Roman can always shuffle his schedule around. See? Where else would you need to go?”

“I, um, well, I’m sure there will be somewhere. I can protect myself.”

Nope. He still didn’t like that. But he didn’t say anything, because he really didn’t want her going anywhere alone.

He opened the door. “In you go.”

Curiosity filledher as she stepped into the punishment room.

Ominous name.

She glanced around, taking it all in. “Huh.”

“Something the matter?” Salem asked as he closed the door.

“Well, punishment room sounds so scary. Like there should be torture devices inside.”

“Torture devices?” he asked as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Wow.

He had the sexiest forearms. And his hands.

Man.

She could feel her body tingling in awareness as she stared at his hands.

“You okay there, Little one?” he asked, sounding amused.

What?

Oh crap. She was staring at his hands like a stalker instead of answering the question.

Wait . . . what was the question?

Dear Lord.

Was this going to be her downfall? Sexy arms?

“You thought that something called the punishment room would be filled with torture devices?” he reminded her.

“Oh yeah.” Right. That’s what she’d been talking about. She wandered around the room, touching the leather sofa against one wall, then the wooden chair facing the corner. Odd placement. Finally, she moved to the large cupboard.

“I was just expecting chains from the ceiling, maybe a rack, some power tools, even a bit of blood, you know?”

She turned to find him staring at her in surprise.

Was it something she’d said?

“You have an active imagination,” he told her. “What movies have you been watching? Or is it those books that you and Roman read? Maybe I should be paying closer attention.”

“Uh, no, those books don’t have anything like that.” She watched him carefully as he walked toward her. “Just an overactive imagination.”