What did she say?


    Isadora''s face was a picture of confusion.


    Victor''s lips traced a slow, possessive path down to the tip of her nose, then finally pressed against her own, brushing her lips with his. He lingered there, savoring the taste of her, before deepening the kiss into something unmistakably French.


    "Mmm-"


    Things quickly got heated.


    Isadora pleaded with him to stop, her voice halfughter, half-protest.


    It wasn''t until her legs were so weak she could barely stand that Victor finally let


    her go.


    Later, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Isadora stared at her pale skin, now marked with bruises and love bites that made her wince just to look at them. She silently cursed Victor. Was he part wolf or something?


    The man had a thing for biting, apparently.


    She rummaged through her closet for ages before finally settling on a shirt that would cover the worst of the marks.


    When she stepped out of her bedroom, Victor emerged from the guest bathroom across the hall. He wore a pair of casual gray joggers, bare-chested, water still dripping from his short hair as he ran a towel through it. He looked rxed,pletely at ease, as if he owned the ce.


    Trouble incarnate.


    Isadora looked away, awkward and just a little annoyed.


    Whose apartment was this, anyway? Victor acted more at home than she did.


    Victor noticed her difort, amused. It wasn''t as if he hadn''t seen her like this before. Still, she blushed every time. That stubbornness he found it endearing. He smiled to himself and walked straight to the fridge, pulling open the door.


    Rows of sandwiches and frozen dinners greeted him.


    He frowned. "This is what you eat at home?"


    Isadora, peering over his shoulder, saw the shelves piled with her bulk supermarket finds. Frozen meals were quick and easy-perfect for rushed mornings andte nights.


    Truth was, she could cook, and cook well, but only ever made the effort for Magnus. For herself, she rarely bothered.


    She could hear the disapproval in Victor''s voice.


    "My ce isn''t like Mr. Fitzgerald''s mansion," she said. "I don''t have a


    housekeeper or a private chef on standby."


    Victor picked up a sandwich, weighing it skeptically in his hand. "No wonder you''re all skin and bones. Living off this junk."


    Like you need to check, she thought, rolling her eyes.


    He clearly couldn''t stand it. Grumbling, he made his way into the kitchen and whipped up a simple bowl of egg noodles.


    Isadora watched him from the doorway, taking in the tall, elegant figure in her tiny kitchen. He lookedpletely out of ce, and yet somehow he didn''t.


    She ended up having two bowls, more than satisfied.


    After breakfast, Isadora had to hurry out for a morning inspection at the mall. She was runningte.


    Victor left first, waiting for her at the door while she dashed back in to grab her forgotten phone.


    Just then, the apartment next door opened, and a woman emerged in high heels -her neighbor, Lana.


    They weren''t exactly friends, but Isadora knew her; Lana had gone to school with her younger sister, Pearl.


    Lana blinked, surprised. Wasn''t this a different guy fromst night? This one looked like a runway model-tall, broad-shouldered, with a casual confidence that radiated ss, even in sweats.


    How did Isadora manage to attract so many attractive men?


    Lana rememberedst night and felt a twinge of envy.


    She''de homete and spotted a man waiting outside Isadora''s door. He wore


    an expensive suit and a luxury watch, his posture straight, his aura cold and untouchable.


    Lana had never seen a man like that in real life.


    She couldn''t help but sneak nces as she fiddled with her keys-taking nearly fifteen minutes to get her door open. The man stood there the whole time, unmoving, not sparing her a single look.


    Once inside, she peered through the peephole-he was still there.


    She''d pretended to take out the trash, passing by him. He smelled so good her heart skipped a beat.


    After tossing the garbage, she walked back past him again. On impulse, she stopped and asked, "Excuse me, are you waiting for Isadora? You''ve been here nearly an hour-would you like toe in for a cup of tea?"