He studied her for long seconds, his summer sky gaze steady and considering. As though he were taking his time replaying the words she’d shared and analyzing every detail. Finally, he broke his stare and casually perused her apartment, his voice as calm and matter of fact as if they were discussing the weather. “When I think of those I seek to protect, crime is the last word I’d choose to describe them. Protective, yes. Driven and loyal, absolutely.” His gaze landed back on her and his words, while still gently delivered, strengthened. “What we are not is the stereotype portrayed in American movies.”

Oh, she’d definitely struck a sour chord. One that touched him deeply. A fact that, for some reason, eased much of her immediate fears. “I don’t doubt that you appreciate the people you work with and are close to. I don’t doubt or question your desire to protect them. But think of it from where I’m sitting. If you had a daughter and she was right here—in this moment—would you want her to take your word for it?”

Something in his expression shifted. Eased to the point it seemed she’d caught him off guard. “No. I wouldn’t. I’d expect her to exercise the caution you’re demonstrating, but to see and explore what is the truth for herself. Which is why I’m going to show you the core of my life.”

All of a sudden, her living room felt more like a portal to an alternate realm she’d inadvertently stumbled into. “Show me? How?”

“Dinner. With my family.”

“We’re talking about the people in the picture you showed me, right? Not a Sunday afternoon thing with your mom and dad and maybe some siblings?”

“My father is dead, and I haven’t seen my mother since I was nine. Though I do consider Sergei and Roman to be my brothers in every way that counts.”

Whoa. Talk about a trip into unknown territory. The reporter in her was practically salivating, but the single gal from Houston was thinking she was twenty kinds of crazy for even considering accepting the invite. “And these people are just going to agree to sit down with a television reporter and have a grand old time?”

“No, they’ll agree to welcome my guest to their table. My only stipulation—you will not write about anything you see there. You will go for exposure only. For the experience and the perspective.”

“And you trust me to honor that request?”

“Can I?”

“Of course.”

He lifted one eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, suddenly feeling as offended as he’d looked before. “I can be trusted.”

“Good.” He stood and stared down at her. “I know you normally have a shift on Sundays. What time are you done?”

Rising as well, she stood well within touching distance. A fact that suddenly made her simple T-shirt and boy shorts that much more inconsequential compared to his full attire.

She tugged the hem of her shirt a little lower. “Not until after seven.”