"Vagisil," he read the label, his mouth twisting down. "For treatment of acute feminine itching and discharge-argh!"
He threw the Vagisil across the room as if it had grown into a hairy cockroach. Isa bit her lip to contain her laughter from the horrified look on Robert's face.
Ritchie gasped before dropping his gaze below her waist.
"What kind of nastiness do you have down there?"
Robert stalked over and punched him straight in the face. "That's my future wife you're talkin' to!" he snapped, though he also gave a look of dread at Isa's lower half.
She spun around and zipped her purse back up as if indignant. It helped that none of them could see her expression, because her lips couldn't stop twitching.
"It's not nastiness, it's a yeast infection," she informed them in a prim tone. "They're very common. After another week of treatment, it'll be gone, or so my doctor tells me. You remember the doctor's appointment I had last week, right, Robert? Well, this is what it was for. My doctor even put me on antibiotics to help ensure that the bacteria doesn't spread and turn into a urinary tract infection as well."
Lie number three. Isa had gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics, true, but that was for the sore throat she'd claimed to have. Then she'd bought every kind of over-the-counter yeast infection treatment available and stuffed it all in her purse, just waiting for the moment when Robert might try this.
"You..." Robert didn't seem to know what to say. Isa turned back to him, biting the inside of her cheeks hard to keep from grinning. Robert gave one more disgusted glance at Isa's purse before he continued.
"Get yourself fixed up, and call me if that mook comes back. I'll see you, uh, in a couple days."
Ritchie and Paul hurried after him. Only when Isa heard Robert's car pull away with a squeal of tires did she allow herself to break into a smile.
Her head chef Frank came out of the prep room. From his smile, he'd heard every word.
"You're one sadistic chick," he said admiringly.
Isa's grin widened. "Never underestimate the power of a woman." Then she patted her purse. "Or Vagisil."
* * *
Isa came out of her bathroom, toweling the wetness from her hair-and froze.
Chance was in her bedroom, one hand resting on her end table while the other stroked the fabric of the overstuffed chair he was sitting in.
"You don't lock your windows," he said chidingly.
Unbidden, her gaze went to the window and then back to him. She was on the fifth floor of a brownstone condo, and the fire escape had long been broken. How in the world...?
"Are you a freaky cat burglar or something? Well, sorry, because everything I've got is tied up in the restaurant."
He ceased stroking her chair with a half-smile. "I'm something, but it's not a cat burglar."
It occurred to Isa that the proper thing to do was call 911. Or scream for help. Or run into her bathroom and lock the door while doing all of the above. After all, this was a man she'd just met two days ago. He could be a mass murderer for all she knew. Maybe her grandmother had gotten him involved, but that didn't mean he was safe.
"So what are you?" she asked instead, tightening her robe around her. Good thing she hadn't just strolled out naked. That would have made this even more disconcerting than it already was.
Chance gave her a very serious look. "You're not ready to know what I am, so don't ask me that question when you don't really want a truthful answer to it."
Arrogant man. Where was her purse full of testosterone-repellent when she needed it?
"I could have you arrested for breaking and entering," she said, dropping the towel from her head.
Chance shrugged. "Go ahead, but then Robbery will hear I was in your house and he'll insist you stay with him. I don't think you want that, do you?"
Clever jerk. That's exactly what would happen, and no amount of Vagisil in the world would stop it. No, Isa didn't want that, and for some strange reason, she didn't think she was in any danger from Chance, so she wasn't going to call the police.
"All right. What do you want bad enough to break into my home for?"
"A chance to talk to you," he replied instantly. "It's so much nicer when-what did you call them?-Bowling Ball and Smelly aren't around to interrupt us."
A gorgeous, mysterious man broke into her bedroom because he wanted to talk? Isa rolled her eyes. Yep, that sounded like her luck.
"Well, Chance, it's two A.M. and I'm tired, so make it quick."
He stretched, rippling his muscles from shoulders to knees in one sinuating motion. Isa just stared. Wow. That was something she'd like to see again.
From the new tug at his mouth, he'd guessed her thoughts. Oh well. Isa was sure she wasn't the first woman to find that impressive.
"I'm going to stop this wedding and get your brother back unharmed," Chance said as mildly as if he were commenting on the weather. "But I'll need you to keep up your pretense of being Robert's fiancee in the meantime."
Yet another person to tell her that. Isa hadn't liked hearing it from her brother over two weeks ago, and it didn't sound any more enticing now.
"Of course you are. Then you're going to give me multiple orgasms and pay off my mortgage too. I saw this movie, pal. It was in the fantasy section."
The grin he flashed her was decadent. "Do I get to pick the order in which these things will occur? Because I do have a preference, Isabella."
There was that hint of green in his eyes again. It made her heart speed up, and when he gave her a slow up-and-down appraisal it made her feel warm all over. Like she was being caressed.
Chance inhaled with a long, deep breath that somehow seemed as intimate as a kiss. Self-consciously, Isa brushed her hair back from her forehead. Yes, it was definitely getting warmer in here.
"And just how are you going to get my brother back without getting him-and possibly me-killed in the process?" she asked, to distract herself from counting how long it had been since she'd had sex. Ugh, if she counted good sex, then she'd have to break out more of her old calendars than she cared to count.
"I'm going to find out where your brother is, and once I get him safely away, then I'm going to convince Robert that it's in the best interest of his health never to bother you or your family again."
Isa snorted in a very unfeminine fashion. "How? Are you a world-renowned hypnotist?"
Chance didn't laugh. "Something like that."
She stared for a different reason this time. He was serious. Good Lord, maybe he was a dangerous crazy person. Where had her grandmother dug him up from, anyway?