Tempted by her Daddies: Chapter 3

Go for a walk?

What was he supposed to do on this walk?

Roman glanced around in confusion as he reached a park and started walking through it. Pausing, he got his phone out to message Salem.

Roman: I really don’t understand the point of this. What am I supposed to do on this walk?

It was really quite boring. And unproductive. And he was starting to think that he should have researched rickets before he’d left the house.

Would Salem lie to him?

Salem: You take in your surroundings, you get some Vitamin D. You breathe.

Breathe?

Was that some sort of joke?

This was ridiculous!

He could have breathed at home in the safety of his own room. And taken some vitamin D tablets. All without these . . . these strangers staring at him. In fact, he was pretty certain someone was watching him right now.

Roman glanced to his right. There he was now. A blond with messy clothes and short hair staring straight at him.

Roman glared back.

And then his mother came and picked him up, setting him on her hip and giving Roman a strange look.

Ahh. Right.

You aren’t supposed to glare at children.

He remembered Salem telling him that. But he’d forgotten.

In his defense Salem told him a lot of things. Most of them, Roman cared little about so he pushed them to the back of his brain and brought them out as needed.

“Wow, you really don’t like children, huh?” an amused voice said from behind him.

He spun to see the most gorgeous woman standing there. She had curious-colored hair. It was a mix of red, blond, and brown. She was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses that hid most of her face.

Her plump, pink lips were curved up into a small smile. His gaze moved downward over her oversized black T-shirt and black pants. Was she warm? Why wasn’t she wearing any color?

Why do you care?

She’s a stranger that came up to talk to you at a park.

Suddenly, she rolled back and forth, and he glanced down further to find that she was wearing roller skates.

Hmm. That was unexpected.

“You should wear a helmet if you’re roller skating,” he stated.

“I should?” she asked.

“Yes, you could easily fall over and hurt yourself. You should also wear some other protective gear. At the very least, you should have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and gloves.”

“At the very least?” she repeated.

“Uh-huh. Preferably with reflective material on them, if not, a reflective vest is also a must.”

“Right. Good to know. Thanks for that.”

“You are welcome. You should also have a sweater on so you don’t get cold.”

“You know, you’re very concerned about what I’m wearing.”

Did she sound amused? Or angry?

It was hard to tell, especially when she wore those glasses.

“Just, uh, concerned about your safety,” he said awkwardly.

What was wrong with him?

Really?

Why hadn’t he just walked away from her?

“Do you concern yourself with every stranger’s safety?” she asked.

“No. In fact, you might be the first.”

“Well, I’m honored, kind sir.”

She bowed and wobbled.

“Be careful!” Without thought, he reached out and grasped hold of her arm. Usually, he hated touching people.

Although most of his problems stemmed from strangers touching him.

She let out a small gasp. Obviously, she had realized how close she had come to falling over and harming herself.

Now, she would tell him that he was right and that she should have been taking greater care with her own safety.

And he would be gracious and not tell her that he had told her so.

Because he could be a gentleman like that.

“Your hand is so warm.”

Wait. What?

Was that why she’d gasped?

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the fact that you nearly fell over?”

“You know, you might be right,” she said slowly.

“Well, of course I am.”

Wait. Did that sound arrogant? Sometimes it was hard for him to judge. Apparently, it was arrogant to speak about how good you were at something. Or to assume you would be good at something.

Those were also things that Salem had told him.

“I think that I should have grabbed a sweater or something. It’s getting a bit chilly out. Thanks for the advice. I better get going before it grows even colder.”

Wait.

That was the piece of advice that she was going to listen to?

She skated about a meter away, then turned. He tensed as it looked like she was about to fall.

“Don’t go scaring any small children, okay?”

Did she have to say that so loud?

Roman glanced around, noticing the way several parents were staring at him.

Wonderful.

This walk was turning into such a fun experience. He never should have listened to Salem.

Why did I listen to him?

He had to start asserting himself. Although that seemed rude. Was it rude?

Roman knew Salem was just looking out for him. But sometimes it was frustrating to have Salem and Alexei treat him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself.

Except you often hide in your room and forget to eat and shower . . .

All right. So he had to make more of an effort to take care of himself.

Then perhaps they wouldn’t feel they had to look after him.

Sometimes he wished he had someone else to focus on. A reason to tear himself away from his work. But where would he meet someone? Most of the time he barely left the house.

Perhaps he should go out more.

Maybe he should visit a club like the one that Salem frequented.

Well, he wasn’t sure how often Salem went anymore. That felt like something he should know if he was being a good friend and roommate.

Yeah, there was a reason why Salem and Alexei treated him the way they did.

He sighed.

Roman wasn’t sure that a BDSM club was for him. Although he did enjoy reading romance books with Dominant heroes. Those books were his secret pleasure. Something he never told anyone else about.

Reading those passages where the hero took charge . . . it was what interested him and not because he wanted to be bossed around.

Which would likely shock most people who knew him.

And his favorite books of all were Daddy Dom ones. Particularly, the books written by CJ Bennett.

Those books were really addictive. He bought them as soon as they came out.

In paperback and eBook form.

Because he was a huge fan and had to have both. As he headed along the path through the park, he thought about going home. This really seemed like an exercise in futility.

However, there was some research to suggest that getting outside and walking could boost your creativity and problem-solving.

Which was something he could use.

It was grating at him that Pinky always seemed to be one step ahead of him. They’d nearly had him, though, before Alexei’s cover was blown. However, since then, he’d grown even more careful.

There had to be a way of tracking him . . . of figuring out his movements. Anticipating where he might be.

The ideas swirled in his head, and he was so preoccupied that he very nearly missed her. In fact, he was several steps past her before he stopped and let his brain compute what his eyes had just seen.

Swinging around, he gaped down at her in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“Um, well, I thought I’d just lie on the footpath and wait for someone to step on me. You very nearly did, you know. You must have been deep in thought. Or maybe you need glasses. You do kind of squint.”

“That’s because it’s sunny outside!” he protested indignantly.

He didn’t squint, did he?

“It’s not that bright,” she pointed out.

“It is to me,” he muttered.

She rolled onto her bottom with a groan. He suddenly realized that he was standing here arguing about the brightness of the sun, when she’d just fallen over and possibly hurt herself.

Roman rushed over to kneel next to her, being careful not to touch her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was just skating along and then suddenly, I was flying forward. There must have been a pothole or something.”

She glared down at the pavement as though she thought a pothole was going to suddenly appear and suck her down it. Roman glanced around, but it all looked smooth and flat to him.

Hmm.

“You could have seriously injured yourself,” he scolded her. “This is why you need to wear safety gear. How long have you been roller skating for?”

He ran his gaze over her, his frown deepening as he took in the scrapes on her knees. They weren’t bad but one of them was bleeding. She was holding her palms toward her chest, so he couldn’t see if she’d scraped them too.

“About twenty minutes.”

“No, I mean, how much experience do you have? How long have you been roller skating in general?”

“Twenty minutes,” she repeated, sounding sheepish.

Disbelief filled him. “You only started roller skating twenty minutes ago? And you didn’t think that safety gear was a necessity? Do you know that you could have landed on your head and cracked it? Do you want a concussion? To get hurt?” he demanded in a stern voice.

She was silent, her mouth slightly open as she stared at him in shock. He’d surprised himself too. He didn’t think he’d ever sounded stern in his life.

“I, uh, I don’t think anyone ever wants a concussion, right? And I did get hurt. Look.”

Her lower lip wobbled as she held out her hands for him to look at.

It was the lip wobble that did it.

How could he stay upset at her when her lip wobbled? It was impossible. Then he caught sight of her wounds.

“Oh, you poor love,” he murmured. “Look at your hands.”

They were scraped raw. It was a wonder she wasn’t in tears. Any thought of scolding her flew from his head.

“We need to clean your hands,” he told her.

“Oh, no, they’ll be fine.”

“They will not be fine. They could get infected.” He glanced around as though he somehow expected a first aid kit to appear. “You need to come with me.”

He stood and braced himself before he helped her up by holding her wrists rather than irritate the scrapes on her hands. She was so light that it was concerning. Should it be so easy to lift her?

He let go of her and she wobbled. Those things were far too dangerous!

“You should take lessons before undertaking a new sport,” he informed her.

“Is roller skating a sport?” she queried.

“I believe so. I shall investigate it. Now, where are your shoes?”

“Uh, in my backpack.”

“Right.” He should have asked her that before he’d gotten her back up on her roller skates. Looking around, he saw a bench not too far away under the shade of a large tree. That would be better than sitting her down on the ground.

But how to get her there?

Hmm. Could she make it that far on her own?

It would be gentlemanly to offer to help her.

As a child, he’d had an instructor teach him etiquette and manners as befitting his station. He nearly rolled his eyes as he remembered the woman using those exact words.

His station. Being born to his family had very few benefits and a huge number of issues. Certainly, he had plenty of money. That he mostly gave away to charities.

There had also been a lot of expectations on him. Most of which, he’d failed to live up to.

His family had written him off as eccentric and not the good sort of eccentric.

The weird, annoying sort that you wished you could forget existed.

They certainly had.

Roman pushed those thoughts aside.

His tutor had drilled manners into him for most scenarios. But carrying an injured woman wasn’t one of those situations. And he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to those lessons anyway.

Something that had driven his mother up the wall.

“Urgh, what are you doing?”

He suddenly realized he was miming out the action of picking her up.

That was weird, wasn’t it?

Well, it definitely wasn’t something that most people did.

He was going slightly bonkers. There was no other explanation for it.

Roman cleared his throat. “Might I, uh, put my arm around you and escort you to the bench?”

“I . . . you’re going to help me to the bench?” she asked, sounding amazed.

Was that not what he’d just said?

“Yes. I don’t want you to keep skating and risk harming yourself further.”

“Well, I guess that would be all right.”

He couldn’t work out her accent. It was like she didn’t have one, which was bizarre.

Moving slowly, he placed his arm around her waist.

Why did she smell so good? He didn’t expect that.

Vanilla and something . . . what was it?

“What scent are you wearing?” he asked.

She stiffened slightly. “Oh, um, it’s just some cheap stuff. It’s vanilla and macadamia oil. Does it not smell good?”

“No, it smells very good.” He cleared his throat as he realized he’d basically just told her that she smelled good.

Smooth, Roman. Really smooth.

He moved toward the bench before he could say something else ridiculous.

Plus, he wanted to stop touching her.

Well, he should want to stop.

“Good to know,” she said, sounding surprised.

The feel of her pressed against him was . . . amazing. He had to force himself not to take in more of her scent.

She was firm and lean. Was she too small? Did she get enough nutrition?

You’re one to talk.

You barely remember to eat.

Yes, he wasn’t very good at taking care of himself. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he couldn’t take care of someone else.

Perhaps he needed another focus other than his work.

Wait. Was he really thinking that?

He lived for his work.

Yes, and what do you have to show for it?

Bugger all, if he was honest with himself.

“Hey, are you all right?”

He startled and turned his head to find a pair of blue eyes staring up at him.

“Yes, of course. I’m fine. Do I not appear all right?”

“You just stopped and went quiet.”

“Bloody hell, my apologies.” He kept leading her toward the bench and then helped her sit. “I was having an epiphany.”

“An epiphany? While helping this idiot to a bench?” she asked in an amused voice. “That must have been some weird epiphany.”

He scowled. “You’re not an idiot. And I won’t have you say that about yourself.”

“Oh, yeah? And what will you do if I say it about myself again?” she challenged.

Well . . . he wasn’t sure.

But perhaps he would scold her.

Okay. That thought even surprised him.

Maybe he really did have a dominant streak. The only time he ever felt in control was with his work. He’d never had the opportunity to take charge in the bedroom, because he’d never had a real relationship with someone.

It took a bit to get him turned on.

Although his dick seemed to be waking up. What on earth was wrong with it?

Had it gone barmy too?

“I would find some way to correct your behavior,” he said stiffly.

Great. Now, he sounded like a total nitwit.

“Would you? You sounded very professorish right then.”

He gave her a startled look. “I did?”

“Uh-huh. It was hot.” She looked as startled as he felt before she grinned. “Sorry, that was a bit much, huh? I don’t even know your name and I’m calling you hot.”

“Um, well, that’s all right. And it’s Roman.”

“Roman? Huh, that wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

“No?”

“No, you seem more like a William or Harry.”

He snorted. “I am far from royalty.”

Well . . . he guessed he was distantly related on his father’s side.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you,” she told him.

“Ahh, no, you didn’t. My father is a history buff. He studied it at university. He also likes archaeology. So he decided to give each of his children a name related to his interests. And the Roman Empire has always fascinated him.”

“Wow, I guess you’re lucky he wasn’t fascinated by the Ottoman Empire,” she replied.

He grinned. “You don’t think I could pull off the name Ottoman?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Hmm. Perhaps. Rome suits you better.”

“Rome?” No one had ever shortened his name. His mother would gasp in horror. He smiled. “I like it.”

She smiled back.

“I’m actually lucky. I have two older brothers called Tiberius and Hadrian and an older sister called Carthage.”

She winced. “Wow. You got off lightly. Carthage? He didn’t think Alexandria would be a better choice?”

“She wishes. She gets all sorts of pronunciations as well. Lots of people just end up going for Cathy.”

“Cathy? But it doesn’t sound anything like Cathy.”

“I know.” That reminded him, he needed to call his sister. She was the only family member he still kept in touch with. She’d stuck by him when his mother and father disowned him.

Although Tiberius had helped him get everything he wanted from the family estate. And Hadrian checked in every once in a while.

Perhaps not all members of his family hated him.

“Another epiphany?” she asked.

He shook his head, suddenly realizing that he’d been standing there like a numpty while she sat with unattended scrapes.

“I apologize.” He kneeled in front of her and reached for the laces of her skates.

“What . . . what are you doing?” she asked in a strange voice, reaching out a hand to touch his.

He froze.

He hated being touched.

Detested it with strangers.

He snatched his hand away. For some strange reason, he didn’t feel completely disgusted at her touch.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he replied in a husky voice. “I’m just a weirdo who doesn’t like being touched.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” she said fiercely. “There are lots of people who don’t like to be touched. And I should have asked first.”

Wow.

Not everyone was that accepting of his ‘quirks.’

“Thank you. What’s wrong?” he asked as she stiffened, her eyes moved around their surroundings.

Had she seen something? She was tense.

“You shouldn’t be kneeling in front of me,” she told him. “You need to get up.”

“Why can’t I kneel in front of you?” He looked around again, but no one was really paying them much attention. What was the issue?

“Well . . . you . . . I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right. You shouldn’t kneel to me.”

There was a light blush on her face. His confusion grew. Why wouldn’t it be right for him to kneel in front of her?

“I’m just going to take your roller skates off, then help you put your shoes on, all right?” he asked gently.

“Um, yes. It’s just that I can do that.”

“With sore knees and scraped up hands? I don’t think so. Now, give me your shoes.” He used his firm voice.

The one he hadn’t realized he had until . . . well, until just before.

Roman held out his hand. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Roman wasn’t entirely sure why this made her uncomfortable.

With a sigh, she shuffled off her backpack. He took it from her, not wanting her to use her hands too much.

He drew out her shoes. Her phone tumbled onto the ground.

“Oh sorry!”

He reached for her phone at the same time that she leaned down. They banged their heads together.

Ouch. Shit.

Leaning back, he rubbed his head only to find she was doing the same.

“Are you hurt?” he asked urgently. “Is there a bump? Let me see.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” She held her hand over her forehead, just above her right eye.

“Let me see,” he insisted. “Wait, you know my name. What’s yours?”

“Tamsyn,” she replied. “Sorry. Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine. Got a head full of rocks anyway.”

“I know.” She gave him a wry grin.

Roman grimaced. “You might need an ice pack. Let me see.”

She shook her head, then grimaced. Alarm filled him. Had he really hurt her?

What an idiot he was! Why hadn’t he taken her shoes out of her bag more carefully?

“Remove your hand and let me see your head. Right now,” he commanded.

She shuddered.

Crap! Had he scared her? Seriously . . . he should be more careful with this new power he had. He didn’t know how potent it was.

But she slid her hand away.

“You really do have this sexy, bossy professor thing down. Do you ever wear glasses?”

“Uh, no, I have 20-20 vision,” he said, wondering if that would disappoint her.

“Thank God,” she exclaimed, surprising him. “Glasses would have been ASTF. System overload.”

“ASTF?” he queried as he examined her head. There was a red spot on her forehead that looked rather sore. But it didn’t appear to be raised or swollen.

Thank goodness.

“A Step Too Far.”

He gave her a surprised look as he grabbed her phone and handed it to her. It had a black case.

She seemed to really like black.

“I wasn’t aware that people gave that phrase an acronym,” he said as he set her shoes down and started undoing her shoelaces.

“Well, if by people you mean me. Then yes, we do.”

Oh, that was cute.

“You like acronyms?” he asked as he drew one skate off. Well, he tried to.

The darn thing just wouldn’t . . . budge!

It finally flew off her foot and nearly unbalanced him in the process.

Jesus.

That could have been embarrassing.

“Are you okay? Oh God. My feet don’t stink, do they?” she cried.

To his shock, she grabbed her foot and drew it up to her nose. “Not too bad. Could be better. Could definitely be worse.”

He had to grin.

That was something he hadn’t expected. And he wasn’t talking about the fact that she was extremely flexible. She’d made that look so easy.

No, he was smiling over the way she’d just declared that her foot had a slight smell to it. Not that he could smell anything other than vanilla and macadamia. A combination of scents that he hadn’t realized was missing in his life.

She dropped her foot. “Why are you smiling like that?”

Roman attempted to wipe the smile from his face, but it was difficult. “You’re just cute.”

“Cute? Is that an insult?”

“How could being cute be an insult?” he asked as he drew off her other roller skate.

Luckily, this one came off with more ease.

“I don’t know. Maybe not an insult. It’s just . . . cute isn’t sexy or mysterious or gorgeous.”

“You’re all those things,” he said. Then he quickly got to work putting her shoes on, so she didn’t notice the redness in his cheeks.

Had he really just called her sexy and mysterious?

“Really? Kids are cute. Lambs are cute. Cupcakes with pink icing and glitter are cute. Puppies are cute. You know what all of those things have in common?” she demanded as he started lacing up her shoes for her.

Should he do a double knot?

He didn’t want the laces coming free and her tripping over them.

Yes, he better do a double knot.

“They’re cute?” he asked as he finished. Right, now he needed something to clean her hands with and bandage them up.

“Well, yes. But they’re also small.”

He frowned slightly. “Is there something wrong with being small?”

“I guess not. But when you’re small, people tend to call you cute.”

Ahh. So this was a height issue.

He understood it now.

Well, not really. But he should acknowledge and respect her feelings.

“I’m sorry for calling you cute,” he told her sincerely. “I won’t do it again.”

“Well, you don’t have to go that far.”

“Umm.” He was confused. “I thought the point of this conversation was that you didn’t want me to call you cute?”

“I guess it was. Only now I have FOMO.”

“You have FOMO?” he queried.

“Yeah. Do you not know that one? Fear Of Missing Out.”

“You fear that you’re going to miss out being called cute?” he asked, trying to get this straight in his head.

Her shoulders slumped with a sad sigh. “Yeah. Is that ridiculous?”

Just a bit.

But it made him smile.

“You’re laughing at me,” she accused.

“I would never laugh at you, Tamsyn.”

“Wow, when you say my name, it sounds so nice.”

“You don’t like your name?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I never really have. But I like when you say it.”

“Good. Now, we need to find somewhere to wash your wounds and a first aid kit.” Should he offer to take her to his place? It was about ten minutes’ walk away. Would that be too much for her to walk?

Salem wouldn’t like him bringing a stranger home. But it was his house.

“I have a first aid kit,” she told him. “In the front pocket of my backpack.”

Well. There went his plans to act as a knight in shining armor.

Quite disappointing, really.

“Rome? Are you having another epiphany?” she asked.

“Uh, no. Just daydreaming. I do that a lot.”

“Must be nice.” Her voice sounded wistful.

“You don’t daydream?” he asked as he drew out the first aid kit. Good, there were some antiseptic wipes. He decided to do her knee first.

“I don’t dream.”

She didn’t dream? What did she mean? Literally or figuratively?

“You don’t dream?” he asked as he started to wipe her knee, careful not to touch her skin. Her foot suddenly kicked out and he had to duck to the side to avoid it.

That was a close call.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to nearly kick you. It’s just that my knee is ticklish.”

“The front of your knee is ticklish?” he asked her, taking hold of her leg this time as he wiped it clean.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hmm, never heard of that before.” He held her other foot as he wiped that clean.

“It is, you know. Very ticklish.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Like you’re going to see her again. That was a stupid thing to say. And even if you did happen to see her again, you’d hardly be touching her knee, would you?

You likely wouldn’t touch her at all.

“Um, show me your palm, please,” he said quickly.

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna.”

She didn’t wanna? He watched in amazement as she shuffled forward so she could hide her hands behind her back.

There was a stubborn look on her face that he thought was cute. Although he wasn’t going to tell her that.

And not because she didn’t want to hear that she was cute. But because he didn’t want her thinking that he condoned this sort of naughtiness.

He didn’t know why but there was something about her that intrigued him. That called to a part of himself that he hadn’t been entirely sure truly existed. That only came out when he was reading Daddy Dom romances.

He felt the urge to both coddle and protect this woman. It was bizarre. He didn’t even know her.

Although he did know it wouldn’t take much for her to wrap him around her little finger. Especially when her lip started to wobble as he demanded her hands again.

And he was done. He’d just caved like a stack of cards.

“Love, you need to let me see your hands.”

“I think they’re really fine.”

“Why don’t you want me to touch them? Do you think I’ll hurt them? I’ll try really hard not to, okay?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry. I, uh . . . sheesh. I don’t know why I just did that. It’s not like I’m not used to pain. I can take a beating from a man twice my size, but I can’t even handle some antiseptic on my hands. WAW.”

“What?”

Had she really just said what he thought she had? Shock filled him, making him freeze.

“Oh sorry. I forget not everyone knows what I’m saying. WAW is What A Wimp. It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about that. Although, you’re right, that is a good one. You said that you can take a beating from a man twice your size but can’t handle antiseptic.”

“Did I?” She grinned, but it didn’t seem to meet her eyes. “Silly me. I was just talking figuratively. Not literally.”

“Were you?” he asked seriously, studying her closely.

“Yep.”

There was no reason for him not to believe her.

Except that he didn’t think he believed her.

“If you don’t want to doctor my hands, it’s okay,” she said. “You should really get off the ground anyway. Someone might think you’re about to propose.”

“Let them think that,” he dismissed. “And I’m cleaning them.” He drew the first aid kit away as she tried to grab it.

Tamsyn held her hands up in surrender. “You got it. Sorry.”

He cleaned her hands with the wipes, being as gentle as he could be. Every time she winced or moved; he froze.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to keep stopping.”

“I don’t like hurting you.”

To his surprise, she stiffened. As though his words had shocked her.

But when he looked up at her, she was staring over his shoulder, a small smile on her face.

He must have imagined that. Reading body language wasn’t exactly his forte. And he often took people literally when they were joking or being sarcastic.

So he continued to clean her hands and then placed some bandages on them. He had the strange urge to kiss her scrapes better.

But that would be going a step too far.

Right?

Yes, it would be. Besides, his kisses weren’t actually magical.

And since when did he go around wanting to kiss people?

Never.

“Thanks,” she told him. “That’s the best anyone has ever patched me up.”

Okay.

He didn’t like that either.

“Tamsyn?” he queried as he put the first aid kit and roller skates into her backpack.

“Yes?”

“Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“Why would you ask me that?” She stood with a smile and took the backpack from him, placing it over one shoulder.

She was significantly shorter now that she no longer had the roller skates on. At five foot eleven, he was fairly average in height and the top of her head barely reached his chin. Which had to make her around five feet tall.

So tiny.

It roused his protective instincts even more.

“I’m just worried about you,” he said.

“Rome, you can’t spend your time worrying about other people so much. Especially not a stranger. I’m all good. I promise.”

How did he know whether her promises were worth anything, though?

He sighed. There wasn’t anything he could do to make her tell him what was going on. And she didn’t appear to be bruised or harmed. Although he was well aware that not all hurt had to be physical.

“Will you let me give you my phone number?” he asked.

Tamsyn blinked at him. “I, uh, sure.”

“I just thought that perhaps you might want to meet up for tea or coffee but if that’s . . . wait, you said yes?”

This time her smile definitely reached her eyes. “Yeah, Rome. I said yes. Give it to me.” She grabbed her phone out and typed in his number. Then his phone buzzed.

“There. Just sent you a message so you have my number too.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “That’s, uh, good.”

“Well, bye, Rome. SYL.”

“See you later, right?” He just wanted to check it wasn’t something else like shut your lips. Or something similar.

“That’s right.”

“Oh, wait. Do you live close by? Are you going to be all right getting home?” he asked as she walked off.

“Yep! I’m all good.”

For some stupid reason he was extremely reluctant to let her leave without him.

It was like he thought that something bad would happen to her without him there to protect her.

Ridiculous.

She’s survived until now. And could he even protect her?

Self-doubt filled him and stopped him from demanding that she let him accompany her.

Instead, he just let her walk away.

And instantly regretted it.