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forward of the second master bedroom. “There’s a library and another unused bedroom to the right, down that hall, plus a half bath just to your left. Any other guest bedrooms are upstairs.” He gestured toward the staircase. “Six in all.”
    “Bathrooms?” she asked, seemingly confused by the complexity of the floor plan.
    “Six bedrooms, eight baths,” he replied.
    She gawked. “Good lord, you don’t do anything in moderation, do you?”
    “I’m not a moderate guy,” he said, his voice sounding far more insinuating than intended.
    Tiffany must have taken it as a threat because she took an unwitting step back and grasped both arms with her hands.
    “Tiffany,” he said, growing increasingly frustrated, “come here.” He held out his hand.
    She shook her head emphatically. “No, Ramsey. I—”
    “C’mon,” he repeated, and he felt his pupils radiate with heat, a result of the unfair compulsion he had just given her, the vampiric command.
    Tiffany shuffled toward him—she really had no choice—and he could literally hear her heart thundering in her chest. When, at last, she stood before him, he reached out and cupped her face, noticing how large and rugged his hands appeared, contrasted against her delicate skin. “Look at me, Miss Matthews,” he rasped, not really knowing how to speak softly.
    She stared up at him, and her sea-green eyes glimmered like jewels in the dim light of the living room.
    “I’m a lot of harsh things, little lady, definitely rough around the edges, but I’m not an animal. And I’m not a rapist. I am not going to hurt you.” He bent to place an innocent kiss on her forehead. “Not ever.”
    She grasped his hands where they held her face and shivered. “Ramsey, I can’t… I can barely… breathe.”
    He sent a pulse of warmth into his thumbs and gently rubbed her cheeks, well, as gently as he knew how. “Better?” He tried hard for a softer voice. “How about now?”
    She drew in a deep, unsure breath and nodded. “A little.”
    And then, gods forgive him, he took her in his arms.
    He knew it was too soon, and he didn’t have the right, but propriety be damned . What the hell was he supposed to do with her? She was like a frightened mouse in the paws of a lion, and he was at an utter loss for words. He tightened his arms around her slender frame, careful not to crush her with his rock-hard body. He slid his hands down to her waist and let them rest on her hips, unmoving, as she slowly settled down. “Like I said before, there’s another unused bedroom next to the library, catty-corner from the second master suite. Tomorrow, we’ll turn it into an office so you can work from here, keep doing the things that are familiar for DMV Prime.”
    Tiffany swallowed her fear, and perhaps she swallowed a sharper retort. “Then I have to stay in these four— these fifty —walls?” She frowned. “Like a prisoner?”
    Ramsey shook his head. “No, you can work at Napolean’s—when I’m at Napolean’s. You can work at the DMV offices, when I go into town.”
    She stood quietly for a moment, perhaps collecting her thoughts. “And what about you?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his massive chest. She was only moderately tall compared to his towering frame. “Are you going to keep working as a sentinel, for now?”
    His lip twitched unintentionally, and he hoped he didn’t look like a stray pit bull, the kind that was just about to eat a little white rabbit. “Damn, that’s a hard one.” He considered the question and the implications. “Some things I still have to attend to. But others?” He cocked his head to the side. “I might be able to let them go for a while .”
    Tiffany squirmed in his arms—she clearly wanted to be free—but something inside of him was not ready to let go. Not just yet. He relaxed his hold, hooked both thumbs into the forward belt-loops of her jeans, instead, in order to keep her close, and then he waited her out.
    She