CHAPTER 11

Aya gasped. Her hands lowered. Her stomach lurched. "You… you're bleeding."

"Put the gun down before you shoot yourself in the foot."

"No." She raised the Beretta again, and tried not to think about blood. After all, if she shot him, there'd be plenty more.

"I need your help. I lost a tooth."

"You—you're a customer?"

"Yes. Can you help me?"

"Oh, Sheesh." She dropped her gun into her purse. "Sorry about this."

"You don't normally greet your customers at gunpoint?" His eyes twinkled with more amusement.

Oh, God, he was gorgeous. Just her luck that the perfect man would waltz into her life two minutes before her death. "Look, they'll be here any second. You'd better get out of here. Fast."

His eyes narrowed. "You're in trouble?"

"Yes. And if they catch you here, they'll kill you, too. Come on." She grabbed her purse. "Let's go out the back."

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