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She closed her eyes as warmth flooded her body. He made her feel cherished. Made her feel beautiful. Made her feel unfulfilled and empty without him. Her fingers tightened around the stem of one of the roses. She jerked her hand away with a little cry, cradling one finger.

“Let me see,” he said softly. His voice was tender, his touch gentle as he pulled her hand to him for his inspection. A pinprick of blood welled up from her index finger. “Sir Galahad left a thorn,” he murmured as he bent his head and took her finger into the healing heat of his mouth.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her body blazed with need. She stood as still as she could, watching him the way a cornered mouse does a cat. He had already taken over her life. It was there in her mind, in her body, her terrible need of him. She wanted to cry. Even if she managed to escape, to somehow get Joshua out and run away from him, she would carry him with her everywhere she went.

Abruptly she jerked her hand away from him before the flames leapt any higher. “His name is Thomas Ivan, not Sir Galahad, and I doubt very much if he personally took the thorns from the roses.”

Aidan nodded solemnly. “You are right, piccola. He would not think of such a thing himself, nor would he perform the task. He would think it beneath him and a waste of his time.” He reached around her and removed the thorn, then examined each stem carefully to assure himself she would not get hurt again.

“Why do you have to make him sound so petty?” she demanded, exasperated. She was determined to be attracted to Ivan. Women all over the world had multiple lovers. If other women could be attracted to more than one man in a lifetime, so could she. It didn’t have to be just Aidan Savage. He was worldly, sensuous, impossibly attractive with those haunting eyes and that perfect mouth. Any woman might fall for him, but all it was physical attraction. She could get over it like a bad case of the flu. A virulent case of the flu.

Aidan turned away from her to stare out the window. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry at her wild thoughts. She was so determined to find someone, anyone, other than him.

“Aidan?” Stefan walked in. “I informed the police that you and Alexandria had returned and that she would be up to speaking with them this morning. I made certain they understood she would be unable to go to the station or even to stay up long. They’re sending a couple of detectives over now.”

“Detectives?” Aidan raised an eyebrow. “For so trivial a matter?”

Stefan cleared his throat and shifted his weight uneasily. “I believe Mr. Ivan has some political pull. He went above the department’s head and even, according to the detective I spoke with yesterday, went so far as to check to see that all of us were in the country legally. I believe he wished to have us deported.”

Alexandria gasped, her chin lifting. “He did what?”

“I’m sorry, Alexandria, I should not have repeated that within your hearing. Mr. Ivan was terribly upset at not being able to get in touch with you,” Stefan said.

Aidan could have strangled the man for attempting to get Ivan off the hook. Alexandria had been annoyed. Without her even being aware of it, she was already thinking of the members of his household as part of her family.

“That is no excuse for Thomas to throw his weight around and try to get you and Marie deported. He didn’t even care about completely disrupting your lives. And what about Joshua? He would have had to go into a foster home.” Her anger at Thomas Ivan was rising. She detested people who thought they could have their way because they had money. Though she would never admit it to Aidan, never concede that tiny bit of power, she was less and less inclined to work with the man or be involved with him in any meaningful way. Surely she would find other creative outlets.

“Actually,” Stefan confessed, avoiding Aidan’s sharp gaze, “I believe it was Aidan he was more interested in deporting. He had an investigator run a background check on him, hoping, I think, to come up with some hint of criminal activities. Unsavoryis the descriptive I believe he used.”

Alexandria bit back a sudden laugh. “Perhaps Thomas has more intuition than we gave him credit for. Unsavoryis an apt word, don’t you think, Stefan? I wouldn’t mind having Aidan deported myself.”

“I think it would be prudent to retire to the kitchen and eat my breakfast, Alexandria,” Stefan said diplomatically.

“Your only choice,” Aidan growled.

Stefan grinned at him unrepentantly and paused in the doorway. “You might want to give Mr. Ivan a call, Alexandria. The detectives said it might stop him from harassing them every ten minutes.”

“He’s been calling them every ten minutes?” A slow smile curved her mouth. “He must really be worried. Isn’t that sweet, Aidan? He’s worried about me. He must really want me to work for him. What a break. With the money he pays me, Joshua and I can...” She trailed off, looked quickly up at Aidan.

His hand curled around the nape of her neck, his fingers moving in a soothing massage. “I am proud of you, Alexandria. Your work must be extraordinary to have Ivan after you to this extent. You deserve to feel good about yourself.” He didn’t believe for one moment that Ivan’s interest in her was purely business, but he knew she was truly talented. Aidan was a shadow in her mind, seeing her vivid pictures spring to life in her imagination.

She smiled up at him. “I used to dream about working for Thomas Ivan. His company is always on the leading edge of graphic designs, and his games are like full-length movies. When the rumor hit the street that he might be looking for another graphic designer, I started sketching night and day. I didn’t believe I’d really get a chance to show him my work, let alone that he would want to hire me.”

“From what I saw of your drawings, you are very talented,” he acknowledged softly. “But perhaps you might want to correct some of his false impressions of vampires.” Her eyes flashed at him, but a dimple deepened in her cheek. “Make them more ruthless and merciless, you mean?” she asked mischievously. She touched the petals of the nearest rose and bent once more to inhale their fragrance. “I can’t believe he sent me flowers.”

A rude noise escaped from somewhere deep in Aidan’s throat. “I just saved your life. What are roses compared to that?” He was glaring at the long-stemmed flowers, his golden gaze intense and menacing.

Alexandria glanced up at him, saw the dark, determined set of his mouth, and burst out laughing. She spun around and went up on her toes to cover his eyes with her palm. “Don’t you dare. If my roses wither, I’ll know exactly who’s responsible. I mean it, Aidan. You leave my flowers alone. You can probably destroy the entire bouquet with one ferocious glance.”

Her body was soft against his, her laughter warm against his throat. His arm circled her small waist, locking her to him. “I was only going to make them droop a little. Nothing too dramatic.”

His velvet voice turned her heart over. Little butterfly wings were brushing at her stomach. She could feel his muscles, hard and masculine, imprinted on her form. Why did her body have to melt every time she came into contact with him? Even when he was being bad, a petulant, jealous child, he made her laugh. Why did all this have to be happening with him?

“I’m going to take my hand off your eyes, but you aren’t even to look at my roses. If I catch you...” She trailed off, meaning to intimidate him. Slowly her palm slid from his eyes, her fingers accidentally touching his mouth. At once her heart slammed hard against his. Or was it his heart slamming against hers? She didn’t know, but the electricity was crackling, and he was too close.

“Don’t you dare, Aidan.” She made it an order. His eyes had gone hot, liquid gold, blazing possessively down into hers, melting her insides.