"No, officers, I was hoping not to have a police report because the media loves this type of thing. I understand you've come to my home, but I don't want a big deal made out of it. I'll speak to my alarm company so there's no misunderstanding in the future."

The words echoed through the house and with each one, my heart pounded harder. Maybe if I could tip the chair, it would make enough noise to alert the cops. Jail was preferable to what I imagined was going to happen.

I didn't hear the front door shut because I finally managed to tip over. Unable to break my fall, I hit my cheek against the tile. Pain rattled my teeth and raced through my already aching head.

"What the hell have you done now?" His voice held complete disgust.

I barely managed to open my eyes.

He grabbed the chair, and me, pulling me back upright, tilting my world, though it could be my head injuries causing the spinning motion.

"You must be the dumbest female I've ever met."

He tore the tape from my skin, uncovering my mouth in a single painful tug.

"Please don't kill me." The swelling on my cheek made my mouth feel funny and my words slurred a little.

Just the corners of his lips tilted up. "Hell, I don't need to kill you. I think you'll do that on your own. But you're lucky I didn't shoot you first and ask questions later."

He took a step back, appraising me. Minutes passed before his expression slowly changed. He ran his hands through his hair and then against his cheek and chin. I watched as different emotions played across his features.

He walked away and I heard water running in the kitchen sink. The water shut off a few seconds later then a cold cloth was pressed against the side of my face.

He hunkered down in front of me so we looked eye to eye. "Okay, here's the deal. I'm going to release your arm so you can hold this on your cheek. If you try to get away, I'm taping you up again and I'll just tape the cloth to your face while I'm at it."

His voice had softened by a few degrees, which did me in. Instead of feeling the pain to my cheek or even my head, I closed my eyes in shame over my nakedness.

Warm fingers smoothed over my bruised cheek. "This is too fucking much." His warmth disappeared.

I slowly opened my eyes, but he was no longer in the room. A moment later, he walked back in and placed a towel over the front of me. My lips trembled and, though I fought against it, more tears streamed down my face.

He went to his knees and slit the tape then pressed a cool wet cloth into my hand. "Put it on your cheek." He stood and walked a few feet away, but came back quickly with another cloth, which he used to wipe the rest of my face. His gentleness opened the floodgates and I couldn't stop the steady flow of tears pouring out of my eyes. I tried concentrating on the pain from my cheek to help control my emotions, but it wasn't working. His blue eyes filled with something I couldn't describe.

"You need to start talking and tell me what the hell is going on." His voice no longer held anger, but the deep gravelly sound caused me to re-clench my thighs. I couldn't believe the reaction I was having to him, because there was no way I could trust him not to seriously hurt me.

I lowered my gaze, unable to look at his beautiful face. "Are you going to **** me, or kill me, or-or both?" My voice quivered.

"Fuck." He touched my chin, tilting my head up so I had to look at him.

No smile on his gorgeous lips, but his mouth softened. His full bottom lip caught my attention and I stared until his fingers brought my chin up higher. His eyes were striking with long sweeping lashes that didn't belong on a man.

"You haven't managed to bring out my best side. I definitely won't **** youskinny twenty year olds aren't my thing. Killing you has too many disadvantages." He actually smiled before continuing. "I've never disposed of a body and I like my life outside of a jail cell. But I do need answers and you'll give them or we'll go back to shame and degradation since that seems to be your worst fear. Now it's time for me to ask questions and you to answer." His smile disappeared. "Someone tried to break in a few days ago. Was that you?"

I had no idea who, only why. "No."

A hard edge entered his voice and I could tell he didn't believe me. "It's quite a coincidence."

He continued holding my chin and I shifted just my eyes away from him. "It's not a coincidence."

"Then what is it?"

My gaze zeroed in on his again. "Your balls."

For just a moment, he appeared shocked, but then his lips tipped up at the corners and my face flushed when I realized what I said.

"Your autographed balls," I explained.

The smile disappeared. He looked stunned. "The ones my father left me?"

I didn't know how he'd gained his collection of autographed baseballs other than he played professionally. If his father left him the balls, then his father must be dead, and by his darkening expression, my life might be back on the line. Damn, I should have kept my mouth shut.

"I'm sorry." And I truly was.

"Not sorry enough." The angry edge was back in his voice.

He let me go, reached up to the counter, and picked up my I.D. card. He carried it to the phone. I figured he was calling the police to pick me up.

He dialed. When he spoke, his deep voice sounded so different from the tone he used with me. It was relaxed and easy going. "Hey, Derrick. Is your ass still on duty?"

He listened for a moment before continuing. "I need you to run a name for me."

Silence.

"Yes, I know you can get in a lot of trouble."

More silence.

"Yes or no, Derrick, this is important or I wouldn't ask."

After a very short hesitation, he read the information from my I.D. card aloud.

"Thank you, I'll wait."

He turned to me and watched with unreadable eyes as the minutes ticked by. His gaze left me when he started listening to his cop friend again. I wasn't stupid, even if Mr. Baseball thought I was. Tonight I was just very unlucky.

"I appreciate this. I'll have tickets for opening day sent to your house."

He listened for another minute before saying goodbye and putting the phone down.

"Start talking."

Oops. He didn't like whatever it was that he found out, which was strange. I wasn't a criminal, didn't even have parking or speeding tickets. That would require a car, which I didn't have either.

I lifted my head higher, the ache in my cheek increasing with the movement. "I can't."

He walked closer and I could see anger tightening his features. "Oh, I think you can."

I looked down, biting my lip. He would never understand. We came from two different worlds.

Surprisingly, his touch was gentle as he pulled the cloth away from my cheek. "You're going to have a shiner."

I couldn't keep the belligerence out of my voice. "I'm sure I'll get more in jail."

"You won't get that lucky."

My heart started beating faster. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple. You're staying here until you tell me everything. I'll give you some incentive if you need it. Maybe strip the rest of your clothes off and tie you back to the chair."

He was crazy. He couldn't do that. It broke more laws than me burglarizing his house. I looked deep into his eyes and realized he didn't care. Baseball's golden boy, Reed Tyler, could do whatever he wanted.