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But he had to know, “What brought this on, Lark?”

“I had a run-in with your ex.”

Summer? Marlena had said she’d sent her away today. But it looked like Summer had gotten to his current talent before that.

"The truth is, you don’t need me,” he said.

Lark’s eyes went wide. Her lips shaped into a perfect O that he ached to taste. What stopped him was the flash of vulnerability that tinted the corners of her eyes.

“You would've made it on your own,” he continued. “People are going to see that the moment you step onto the stage. I’d like to remain a part of your journey, if only just to watch your star rise. But if you think someone can launch you better … If there’s someone else you’d rather work with …”

They were words. He meant most of them. The part about her talent and that she could’ve made it on her own. But he had no intention of letting her go. Not professionally. He was fighting a losing battle of grabbing hold of her romantically.

Lark closed her eyes and breathed a weary sigh. When she refocused on him, Omar let out his own sigh of relief. Whether it be his words or something else, he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. They were in this together.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want to leave you. No one’s ever seen my vision so clearly as you. Or has given me so much freedom to bring it alive. I’ve never had this before.”

There were just two steps between them. He took one. “I haven’t worked with someone as talented as you in a long time. Someone I don’t have to actually tinker with because the magic is already there.”

He took the last remaining step. The ceiling fan lifted the scent from her shoulders and brought it to his nose. Omar swallowed down the sweet nectar of Lark, and he knew the legends about fairies and food were true. He was now her captive.

But the joke was on him. She’d captured him, but she had no interest in keeping him.

It was a novel experience. A woman wanting to keep her distance from him on a personal level to protect her career.

Lark stepped out of his path. She turned, so they were both facing the closed door to his office. Standing beside him, her shoulder almost brushed his. The half an inch of air between them pulsed with potent energy; like two magnets pulling them together. Only he wasn’t sure that she felt it too.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then,” she said. “I really appreciate how professional you’ve been in all our encounters. By now, the man in power would have already tried to maul me. But not you.”

“Nope. Not me.”

“You’re one of a kind.”

“Yup. That’s me.”

“It’s not easy being a woman in show business.”

“It’s not easy being a man in power either.”

Lark quirked one of those perfectly arched brows at him. Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. Omar had to grip the edges of his desk not to launch himself at her and maul her like the beast he truly was.

“Not to pull out the world's tiniest violin,” he said, “but it ain't easy being me. Women and men chase me all the time for what I can do for them. I never know who's genuinely interested."

"I understand that.” Her voice lowered in a tone of mock conspiracy. “I was a hot commodity in the magician's community. I know all the tricks."

"I got that impression by your act." Omar grinned, flashing his teeth. He had to press his lips together to keep from taking a bite.

Perhaps she sensed the danger because her grin slipped. “I just don't want people looking down on me."

"Honestly, there's nothing you can do to control that."

"I beg to differ. I'm an illusionist."

Omar chuckled but quickly sobered when an idea flashed in his mind. “I want you to come somewhere with me."

"Not a date." Her shoulders gave a shake, like her feathers, or rather wings were ruffled.

“Not a date,” he agreed. “A break. I need one, and I’m taking you with me. You game?”

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