She grabbed the matching tan clutch with the delicate shoulder strap that Frieda had loaned her and double-checked for her license, phone, keys, money and lipstick. At least Kir had finally texted her this morning with a reminder of the time he’d pick her up along with a note to expect a big meal. Up to that point, she hadn’t heard a word from him since he’d last walked out her front door, which had made her wonder more than once if she’d just imagined his invitation.

A powerful knock on her front door at exactly 7:30 p.m. nearly startled her heart from the confines of her chest.

It was no big deal.

Just a dinner.

She’d interviewed several powerful and influential people. Dangerous ones, too. This was just a meal with people important to Kir. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, sister. You never spent nearly an hour soaking in a tub and another hour afterward dolling yourself up for an interview.

She made her way to the door on shaking legs, let out a slow, steadying breath and opened it.

Wow.

Of all the suits she’d seen Kir in, this one was the finest. A rarely seen double-breasted affair that was perfectly tailored and paired with a light blue shirt. He’d forgone a tie, as usual, but rather than make the overall feel more casual, it gave him a dangerous appearance. A modern-day rogue dressed to conquer whatever or whoever crossed his path.

His gaze traveled the length of her, a slow and deliberate assessment that left tingles in its wake. He stepped closer, slowly took her hand and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to the back of it. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” With her lungs struggling to function properly and her heart off for a healthy jog, getting that much out was a miracle. Especially, when he retained his grip on her hand and crowded closer than was appropriate for colleagues. “You look pretty awesome yourself.”

Ugh.

So lame.

Juvenile and uninventive.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, his mouth crooked in a lopsided grin. “Thank you, milaya.” He lowered their joined hands and fanned his thumb along her knuckles. “Do you have everything you need?”

Oxygen would be good, and maybe a time-out for a quick shot of leftover tequila.

She nodded and used her free hand to adjust her purse’s strap on her shoulder. “Yes. All good.”

“Excellent.” He held out his hands. “Your keys, please.”

“My keys?”

“Yes, to lock the door.”

Oh.

Right.

For the door.

She jerked into motion and snatched them from her clutch. “I’ve got it.”

He tugged her forward before she could reach for the door’s handle and easily slipped the keys from her fingers. “Allow me.” He pulled the door shut, threw the bolt, then tested it to ensure it was locked. Considering his demeanor thus far, his frown when he faced her was unexpected. “You need a more secure entrance.”

“What’s wrong with it?”