Page 27

He’s ancient.

Immortal.

And apparently capable of controlling the weather.

I’m a florist with overdue laundry and a questionable history of romantic decisions.

“Vidar…”

“Yes, little flower?”

“We should probably establish some boundaries.”

He withdraws his hand immediately.

“Name them.”

I blink.

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“No arguing?”

“Would you like me to argue?”

“No.”

“Then I shall not.”

I study his face.

“You’re very different from the men I’m used to.”

His expression hardens slightly.

“That is fortunate for them.”

“Vidar.”

His mouth curves.

“Four minutes have passed.”

I laugh.

“You’re unbelievable.”

He steps back, giving me space.

“What boundaries do you require?”

I fold my arms, suddenly grateful for the distance.

“First, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Understood.”