I reached for the glass of water with shaky hands, nearly knocking my phone from the nightstand. Another night, another dream, and somehow the same nameless face. I rubbed my sweaty palms against the luxury hotel sheets, wishing for the tenth time today I was back in Texas.

Those warm brown eyes again...I can see them as clear as day. Forget Hershey's, his were like Amedei Italian chocolate, a delectable brown as special as the town where it's made. And that ghost of a smile kept taunting me from an otherwise restful sleep. His familiarity and lack thereof were slowly driving me insane. Five nights in a row now, ever since I arrived in New York. Where do I know him from, and why is he invading my dreams?

I blink out the sleep and glance at my phone. Ugh! Four a.m. and I'm wide awake. New York City, the city that never sleeps, is becoming a bit too literal for my taste. I slink out of bed and head to the opulent bathroom which has so much marble it belongs in the Met.

Two more days and I can head back home I assure myself, feeling annoyed my dad sent me here in the first place. At least he spared no expense with the hotel and forced Ron to keep me company. Technically, Ron was my bodyguard, but I liked to pretend he was just a friend in order to put a little normalcy back into my life. I wondered if Ron was fast asleep on the couch where I left him, or if he opted for the king-sized second bedroom.

After splashing some water onto my face, I peeked into the suite's living room looking for my travel companion. The empty couch signaled that Ron had chosen the bedroom. The stocked bar was calling my name, wanting a quick drink to bolster sleep. As I rounded the bar, terror seized me when a man's hand clasped around my mouth, and the stranger began whispering in my ear while I thrashed against his hold.

"Shhhh...Emily. I'm not gonna hurt you," the stranger tried to soothe. "You're father hired me to look after you, and we need to go."

Sensing my disbelief through a violent kick to his shin, he continued, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice, sugar cake."

Then, he swung me around to meet him eye to eye in the dim light, still muffling my protests. My eyes doubled in size at the man before me, the same brown eyes invading my dreams were looking down on me. But instead of a sweet smile, his mouth was in an exasperated pout.

Momentarily stunned, I ceased my struggling until a single gunshot cut through the balcony glass and broke my stupor.

"The hard way it is," he said before tossing me over his shoulder like a dinner jacket. "The name's Jack. Good to finally meet you sugar cake."

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