Susan Squires - [Da Vinci Time Travel] by The Mists of Time

job. She realized she was staring at him, and looked down at her doughnuts.
    “Here or to go?” Mrs. Kim asked.
    To go. To go. To go.
    “Here, I think.”
    She felt paralyzed. She hadn’t known what he would say. When had that ever happened? Back in the fifth century . . . And with Medraut. He turned to the counter. He wasn’t going to sit at a booth.
Why
had she taken the stool next to the wall? The narrow space between the stools and the windows meant that if he sat at any of the stools, he’d be blocking her path to the door.
    He slid onto the stool beside her, pinning her against the wall. “Mind if I sit down?”
    She just stared at him. She’d been wrong. His eyes were blue. Not a bright, clear blue but more a steely blue-gray. At least Mrs. Kim was still here. Diana wasn’t alone with him. What could he do here? Talk dirty? Mrs. Kim wouldn’t like that. And Mr. Kim could come and throw him out. Better not call Mr. Kim. This guy was twice Mr. Kim’s size and had fifty or seventy pounds’ advantage at least. Okay, but Mr. Kim could call the police.
    Her stalker plunked down the plate with his doughnuts and his Styrofoam cup of coffee on the counter. He was so much bigger than Diana, just his presence was intimidating. And there was something else. He was very male. It was having an effect on her, just like in her dreams.
    No big deal.
She’d read all about pheromones and how there was an immediate effect on the opposite sex, stronger if their genetic makeup was such that they would make a good mating pair. But she’d never felt that effect before. Good. This was good. A writer should experience what she wrote about. But did it have to be with him?
    Great to know what it was, too. Just pheromones. Because otherwise she’d have thought it was plain old lust taking over when she should be frightened for her life. Which she was. But the feelings of lust and fear were all mixed up and making her confused. She felt like she knew this guy, that she’d always known him. Like . . .Like she’d always longed for him in just this desperate, pitiful way. He felt . . . familiar.
    “Just call if you need anything.” Mrs. Kim waved as she went into the back to help her husband produce the many dozen doughnuts they’d need to make it through the rush.
    Oh, boy. They were pretty much alone. But clearly visible through the glass walls of the shop from the street outside. And Mr. and Mrs. Kim were a shout away.
Not a dangerous situation,
she told herself. Why was he
doing
this?
    “What do you want?” She was ashamed that her voice wasn’t stronger.
    “Just to talk to you.” He reached for cream to put in his coffee. And Equal. She thought she was the only one who bothered to use Equal at a doughnut shop.
    He just wanted to talk to her? Right. All stalkers probably said that. And maybe it started out that way. But it ended with knives, and scars. If you lived.
    “I don’t want to talk to you.” She reached for her coffee and realized her hand was shaking, so she grabbed her doughnut instead and took a bite.
    “Yes, you do. Remember?” He looked at her then. How had she thought his eyes were blue-gray? They were definitely pure gray and very resolved.
    She
did
want to talk to him. The need to talk to him was so basic it seemed like she’d been born with it. Okay. She’d talk to him.
    “What is a guy who looks like you doing stalking a girl like me?” There it was. That was the niggling problem she’d had with all of this all along. This guy could get anybody he wanted just by asking. Why would he bother to stalk her?
    “I realized that might be how it seemed. I had sometime to think about it out under the streetlight. I’m not stalking you.”
    Great.
He was going to deny everything. “If this isn’t stalking, I don’t know what it is.”
    “I . . . I was supposed to protect you.” His lovely mouth was rueful.
    That made her mad. “Did you or did you not try to shoot me last night?” It had