I raised my eyebrows.

She laughed a small little laugh. “Point taken.” It wasn’t much, but its power spread through me, warming every coldness inside me. I felt myself thawing in places that I hadn’t realized were there. That was the effect she had on me while in my presence, while in my penthouse, where I would be living for the next few weeks.

“Kian?”

She bit into the other side of her cheek. I was almost mesmerized, taking in all her little details. Every tiny gesture said so much about her. I wanted to learn all of them. I wanted to understand everything about her—why she kept herself from speaking sometimes, why she was still shielding herself from me, why she’d reached for my hand and had no clue about it.

I forced out a deep breath of air. One thing at a time. “I trust Emile. He’s been my driver since I was little.”

She frowned. “You make it sound like he was the nanny who raised you.”

“He did, in a way.” Hearing the door, I moved past her for the front entrance. I murmured, “He’s the only one who would put up with me. My nannies all hated me.”

“Why?” She laughed, turning so that she could still see me as I went through the living room.

Pausing before I moved down the hallway that went to the front entrance, I flashed her a grin. “They were hired for my father’s bedroom, so I liked to call them does.”

“Does?”

“The plural form for doe. I thought I was so smart, adding Daddy and hoe together.”

Two seconds later, she burst out laughing. I went for the door and opened it to find the food and beverages had been brought up. The manager started to push the cart all the way inside, but I stopped her because Jo had taken my hooded sweatshirt off.

“I can do that. Thank you for bringing all this up yourself.”

The manager moved back from the cart. “Oh. Of course.” She went back to the door. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

“This is fine. Thank you again.”

She lingered before leaving, glancing over her shoulder to me. If I’d been standing beside my father, I would’ve assumed she was hitting on him. I wasn’t, though, and the sexual interest was evident. My eyes flashed a warning. She needed to go. Registering it, she gave me one last professional smile before slipping through the door.

Jo was leaning against the kitchen counter when I brought the cart in. “Let me guess. She slipped you her number?”

I shook my head, lifting one of the covers to reveal a platter of vegetables and fruit. “Uh, no.”

“She was young enough to be interested.”

My eyebrows furrowed together. “I’ve learned that age doesn’t matter. Lots of older women are seduced by my family name.”

“Even though you went to prison?”

“Jordan.” I reached out and touched the bottom of her chin. I couldn’t help myself. I’d been holding off from using her given name, but as it slipped past my lips, it felt good. It felt natural.

A small cleft was there, and it became accentuated when she was worried. I remembered watching her during the entire court proceedings and noticing it.

I said softly, “Sometimes, I think the prison thing turns them on even more. They know I’m not a psychopath. I killed one man, and it was to save a girl.”

She held still, her eyes holding mine.

My gaze fell to her lips. “They’d like to delude themselves into thinking that I’d do the same for them.”

“You wouldn’t?” Her chest rose but never went back down.

I moved closer to her. “No. I did it only for one person.” I looked back up, right into her eyes. “And I’d do it again.”

Her throat constricted, swallowing. Her chest fell abruptly down and jerked back up. I was breathing heavily, too.

Her phone started going off then.

Of course. It was like clockwork.

“Sorry,” she exhaled out, raking a hand through her hair. Crossing the room for her bag, she gestured to one of the bedrooms. “I’m going to take this in here.”

I nodded and waited until she closed the door. She wasn’t the only one who needed to take a call. I went to the back patio and pulled my phone out.

Cal picked up on the first ring, like he always did. He greeted, “How do you like the new digs?”

“So far, they’re working well: small, private, exclusive. As long as the staff remain discreet, I might use them again.”

He grunted, popping something into his mouth and chewing. “You know what else you should use? Security. They’d be useful to have around.”

“I can move around easier on my own.”

Another grunt. He kept chewing. “Don’t be calling my ass in the middle of the night when you have some stalker breaking in to rape your behind. I do a lot of services for you, but personal security is not one of them.”

A small grin formed at the corner of my mouth. “You’re one of the best private investigators I know, but I can hold my own with fighting.”

“Yeah, sure. All that time in prison really hardened you, huh?”

A slight chuckle slipped out. “It didn’t make me softer.”

His own laugh faded, and it was time for business. “So, what’s up? You don’t call for social chats.”

“I had an incident earlier. A cab driver recognized Jordan.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s there?”