When Tara had finished her breakfast, Alves stood up and took her plate, setting it into the sink. "If you're ready, we can give you a tour. Miss Day, would you fetch Goran?" The brusque Swede hated to be referred by his last name, and Alves was an accommodating man. Besides that, Alves was not entirely sure how to pronounce that Scandinavian mess of a name.<br/><br/>"Hmm," he mumbled, taking a moment to scan Tara thoroughly, a wicked look forming in his eyes. "I think perhaps I should give you my own tour," he said, taking a step towards her. One of his hands slid behind her back and pulled her close to him, his coffee breath hot in her face. "I think this one will make a fine addition, Miss Day. Do you think she would prefer bulls, stallions or dogs?" The door behind Tara was unlocked, a simple screen door was the only impediment to Tara's freedom. He leaned closed to her face and ran his tongue across her cheek, his hands on her loosening to give her the chance to run. He knew how Goran loved to chase. That one had not been modified, but he acted like a golden retriever anyways.