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She chuckles. “Enough of me. What’s the latest on Mr. Stalker?”

“Well…” I kick at a lump of iced slush on the concrete. “As it turns out, he’s now my boyfriend.”

“What?” She squeals so loudly it hurts my eardrum. “Good for you,” she says, lowering her voice again. “I know you have reservations, but at least you’re giving it a shot. It would be so much worse to never know what could’ve been. What swayed you?”

I tell her about discovering Alex at my mom’s place and how well they got on, as well as going home with Alex, but I decide to omit the part about his asking to move in together until I’ve made up my mind.

“The four of us have to get together,” she says. “How about this weekend? Are you free for lunch?”

“I’m free on Saturday, but I’ll have to ask Alex about his plans.”

“Great. Check with Alex, and then we can arrange something. I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I hang up, pocket my phone, and pull my coat tighter around my body. When I look up, I notice Dimitri standing a short distance away, huddled in his coat with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Checking the time to make sure I have another minute, I jog over. “Hey.”

He gives me a tight-lipped smile.

“Why don’t you wait inside? If you’re going to be hanging around, you may as well stay warm.”

He grunts, but when I turn back for the entrance, he follows.

“You can make yourself comfortable in the cafeteria,” I say. “You’ll be able to see me come and go through the glass walls.”

He scoffs at my attempted humor, but when I make my way back upstairs, he slips through the sliding doors of the cafeteria and heads toward the coffee corner.

I’m still not sure how to feel about having a bodyguard, but instead of fighting it, I decide to accept Alex’s good intentions. He’s only trying to keep me safe. Given what happened to Igor, I understand why he’d be overprotective.

* * *

As promised, Alex is there to pick me up after my shift. To my embarrassment, a small crowd of colleagues has gathered in the entrance to gawk as he whisks me off.

“Sorry about that,” I say when I’ve settled into the comfortable warmth of his car. “You seem to be attracting a lot of attention.”

He flashes me a smile before directing his attention to the road again. “The only attention I want is yours.”

I put my hand over his where it rests on the gearstick. “You’ve got it.”

Closing his fingers around mine, he brings my hand to his mouth and gently bites down on my index finger. In an instant, I go up in flames. The gentle nip is delivered playfully, but the implication is so suggestive and loaded that it’s one of the most erotic moments of my life.

“All of your attention?” he asks in a deep, dark voice.

The single word I manage comes out breathless. “Yes.”

“Good.” He kisses my fingers and places my hand on his thigh.

“You didn’t mention that you invited my mom for lunch on Sunday.”

He glances at me. “I was going to bring that up tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. On the contrary.”

“I gather you spoke to her today.”

“Yes.”

He squeezes my hand before letting go to change gears. “How is she doing?”

I can’t help the worry that slips into my tone. “Better.”

“It must be tough,” he says with compassion. “For both of you.”

“I wish I could make it easier for her, but other than the chronic medication she’s on, there’s not much I can do.”

“She’s lucky to have you,” he says with a soft smile.

“I’m lucky too.”

“Doesn’t it bother you not to know who your father is?”

I look at him quickly. “How do you know that?” As soon as the question is out, the answer hits me. “Oh, of course. You did that background check.”

“With good intentions.”

“Fine,” I admit with a sigh. “With good intentions.”

“The best intentions,” he reassures me, sweetening the bitterness that still lingers. “Tell me something. How does a mother who leads a promiscuous life raise a daughter who’s so prim and proper?”

“Prim and proper?”

He pulls up in front of his house and cuts the engine. “It’s a compliment.”

“That’s debatable,” I say, reluctantly removing my hand from his strong thigh. “Besides, ‘promiscuous’ is a negative term, and I don’t see my mom as such.”

“Again, no insult intended. I’m just curious.”

“It skips a generation, remember?” I say with a wink. “At least, that’s what they say.”

“Right.” He leans over, catching my chin. “Promiscuous or conservative, I don’t care either way. You could’ve been a nun or a prostitute, I would’ve wanted you all the same. You can be whatever you like, but you’ll still be mine.”

The speech takes my breath away. At a loss for words, I can only stare at him as he plants a chaste kiss on my lips before setting me free.

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