needed a razor too. And a toothbrush. And some deodorant.
Wait, that could be a start. He’d ask Poppy to show him where to buy the items he needed. That would get her out of the house. Then they would go to—lunch. The girls had suggested lunch.
He smiled at himself in the mirror above the ornate, antique dresser, pleased that he had a plan. He wasn’t going to see Poppy killed—that was for sure. Of course, Vepar always went for the most extreme solution. Even Satan would not approve of that. Killing was only allowed if the person was evil. Sort of damned-soul harvesting, if you will. And Poppy didn’t have an evil bone in her body. Not even a slightly wicked one.
Good, he had a plan. But this time his smile faded as he really saw the scruffy, tired face looking back at him. He looked like hell. Well, Daisy needn’t worry. There was no risk of attracting Poppy’s interest. Between the dark circles under his eyes, unshaven cheeks and wrinkled clothes, he looked more like a vagrant than someone Poppy would consider a romantic interest.
That was good, right? Neither of them would be attracted to each other as per the orders of the adolescent boss girls.
Then he recalled how Poppy had looked in his dream and his intense reaction to her.
“A dream, buddy. Just a dream.”
Sighing, he decided it was time to get to work. Plus, he was starving.
Brunch was close to lunch, right?
C HAPTER 12
T he sharp rap on the apartment door startled Poppy.
Who could that be? Most days she didn’t talk with anyone. She still had a few friends from graduate school. But they’d all be at work at ten-thirty on a Monday.
Maybe it was a courier with a new manuscript. Her boss, Donald, had called last evening to ask if she had time to pick up a little extra work. But usually Donald told her if he was sending something over.
She stretched as she stood. She’d been huddled over her current manuscript, trying to stay focused and on task.
Occasionally, other thoughts had crept in. How much she’d enjoyed having dinner with Killian last night. How odd it was that she’d talked to him about her parents. How distracting his smile was.
She shoved those thoughts aside over and over. Killian was a nice guy—nicer than she’d first thought. He’d been an interesting distraction. But now it was back to her routine. Her work, Daisy, the usual.
But all that sensible reasoning couldn’t stop something in her chest from doing a little flip as she opened the door to find Killian standing on the other side.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he answered back, his eyes scanning her body before they locked with hers.
Again her body reacted, her heart jumping a little, her skin prickling with awareness. Even though she couldn’t decipher what his sweeping look meant.
“I was wondering if you could show me someplace to pick up toiletries and a few clothes.”
This time, it was Poppy’s turn for her gaze to roam over him. He hadn’t shaved, she could see that. And he was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Actually, even from the day before that, now that she thought about it.
“What happened to your luggage?”
“Umm—the airline lost it.”
She frowned. “You flew?”
Not many people flew from Connecticut to Boston. Heck, that probably took longer than it did to drive. But she supposed someone might.
Clearly he had.
“I actually flew here from Sweden,” he said. “You know, visiting some family there. Some of my father’s family.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Wait. “But you said your mother’s family lived in Sweden.”
He paused for a second, then nodded. “That’s true. But some of my father’s family moved there too. Once he moved there.”
That made sense—she guessed.
“My father’s brother actually married my mother’s sister.”
“Really?” Poppy said. “That’s kind of romantic.”
“Is it?” His completely confused expression was so male. Of course he would have never considered that
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