“Oof! I need to message her,” Carina protested, trying to peel his arm off and making absolutely no progress in freeing herself.
“She is fine. I made sure of that last night.”
“Wait. What?”
“Saya and another Nightfall security member shadowed each of you home. Karla arrived home safely.”
“You had me followed?”
“Yes. When the most precious person you’ve ever met walks into your life, you take care of her.”
“And her friends?”
“In this case, yes.”
She stared at him for a minute, digesting that information. Carina didn’t like the thought of being followed, but his concern was incredibly romantic in a stalkerish way. “You’re not going to keep track of me all the time, are you?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Oh, okay. Only at night when there might be trouble in the darkness?”
“Close to that, yes.”
She tilted her head to glance up at him. Reading Marcus’s face was impossible. He would be the best poker player.
“You will never need to stand in line again, Carina. You have an automatic invitation to enter at any time.”
“Really? Because I’m dating a super-hot security guy? I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”
“Leave him to me, Little girl. And we’re not dating.”
Wait. He didn’t want to be her boyfriend? Had she totally misread Marcus? She tested the waters by suggesting, “I’mseeinga super-hot security guy?”
“You belong to me, Carina. You are my mate. That’s way past dating,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Carina’s shoulders relaxed down into place. She hadn’t misunderstood his intentions. “Belong is kind of strong, isn’t it?” While she was reassured, that word bothered her.
“No.”
His blunt answer made her smile. Carina’s heart skipped a beat. No one had ever claimed her. She could handle that it was a bit cavemannish. He was really old.
“Not that ancient, Little girl.”
Oops.Carina’s stomach growled noisily, saving her. “How about if I make some breakfast? Every week either Saturday or Sunday is my pancake day.”
“Pancakes? I would love to create a breakfast treat for you, Carina.”
“Oh, you don’t have to prepare them,” she assured him quickly.
“Daddy will always cook, Carina. If Saturday or Sunday is pancake day, do the other days have themes?”
She gave up on the fixing debate to focus on his question. Carina would wrestle with him over that when they got into the kitchen. “Only my weekends off have themes. Every other day, I settle for grabbing something quick for meals. Sunday is for omelets if I had pancakes on Saturday. I swap between the two on the weekend days.”
“Delicious concoctions to look forward to. I’m good at whipping eggs and naughty Little girl’s bottoms.” He stroked his hand down to pat her buttocks gently. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order if you argue with me making pancakes.”
“You don’t compromise, do you?”
“No, remember I waited eons to find you, mate.”
