Free Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3) by Melynda Price Page A

them. Not only was he obsessive compulsive and manic, but the longer she treated him the more she was starting to see underlying tendencies of grandiose ideologies and borderline personality disorder.
    “I was going to mention not to let Bob book the last appointment of the day anymore. I’d prefer early or late morning, if possible.”
    Pen nodded her agreement. “I noticed he started doing that, and I was going to say something to you about it. I don’t like the idea of him hanging around here at the end of the day.”
    Vi stood and glanced up at the clock. Shit, she was going to be late if she didn’t hurry. She wanted to go home and change before heading to Carboni’s. “Check his future appointments and reschedule any he has for the morning, will ya?”
    “Sure. You in a hurry to go somewhere?”
    “What?” Vi came around the desk and began digging in her purse for her keys. It was a lot easier to lie to her friend when she didn’t have to look her in the face.
    “You’re looking at the clock like you’re running late. What’s up? You got a hot date tonight or what?”
    “Of course not.” She kept pawing through her purse as she walked past Pen and out the door. “It’s just been a long day and I’m ready to go home, that’s all. Lock the door behind you?”
    “Whatever you say, boss.”

    It was a quarter after seven by the time Vi pulled into the parking lot. Her heart fluttered inside her chest, and her stomach was doing this twisted little knot thing that made her feel borderline nauseous. For crying out loud, her palms were sweaty. Why was she so nervous? For all she knew, he wasn’t even here, or maybe he’d left. She was late, and Nikko didn’t exactly strike her as the kind of guy who’d sit around and patiently wait for anyone.
    This is not a date, this is not a date . . . she reminded herself over and over, trying to calm her nerves. It didn’t work. Taking a deep breath, Vi slid her palms down her thighs, drying her hands before climbing out of her car. Slipping her purse over her shoulder, she tossed her platinum hair behind her and strode into the restaurant with a confident poise she didn’t possess. The moment Vi stepped inside, she felt Nikko’s eyes light on her. She couldn’t see him yet, only knew that he was here somewhere watching her. She knew that all-too-familiar feeling, the heat of his stare. It did crazy things to her body, making her skin feel flushed and too tight. How was it possible for a look to ignite her like this? It was insane—
    There he was, sitting off in a quiet corner at a table for two. Her breath froze in her lungs when their gazes clashed. Mercy, he was gorgeous—everything about him—from his raven hair to his olive-tone skin. Not even the scar streaking down the side of his face could detract from his masculine beauty. But of all the qualities that made Nikko Del Toro a stunning man, it was his eyes that took her breath away—gray with flecks of sapphire and a ring of silver around his pupil—eyes that were intelligent and calculating, taking everything in and giving nothing back.
    Without realizing she was moving, Vi’s feet were propelling her toward him, her heart hammering in her chest as she struggled to hide his effect on her. Nikko rose before she reached the table and stood beside her chair. He was tall—taller than she remembered. And he smelled fantastic—a little woodsy, with just a hint of spice. It was the kind of scent that made a woman want to wrap her fists in a guy’s shirt and pull him in close so she could bury her face in the side of his neck and breathe him deep into her lungs.
    He was dressed casually in a midnight-blue T-shirt with a modest V and relaxed-fit jeans that hugged him in all the right places. He pulled out her chair as she approached, his top lip curving up to what she suspected for him was a smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said in way of a greeting.
    “I’m not sure I should have,”