Roman’s first thought when Abigail answered the door was: [i]Damn.[/i] His dark eyes swept over her form. He hadn’t expected her to dress up too since they were going to be having dinner at her own apartment, but here she was, standing in front of him in a smoking hot outfit. He licked his lips. She looked incredible. He was definitely glad he had decided to pursue a second date with her now. He just hoped the payoff wouldn’t take too much longer.

“Me?” he pressed a hand to his chest in exaggerated surprise when she complimented him. “I’m just glad I put on something kind of decent. You look gorgeous, Abby.” He stepped inside once she had invited him in, taking a moment to look around.

It was easy to tell that the apartment belonged to a woman. The place was much cleaner than his bachelor pad, and it smelled a lot better too—although that was partly due to the scent of delicious-smelling food that came from the kitchen. There was also a table that was already adorned with plates and silverware for dinner. He could tell that she had spent quite a bit of time preparing for their date.

“It’s the least I could do, since you offered to make me dinner,” Roman smiled when she mentioned the flowers he had brought over. “I figured if you provide the food, I should bring the ambience, you know?” He shrugged. “If you have a vase, I’ll put these on the table.”

[i]P.S: Don’t tell Abigail Astor.[/i] The words from the note flitted unexpectedly through his mind, and his smile faltered. It was such a specific demand. He wondered why the mystery person didn’t want Abby to know about the meeting. She didn’t look like anything special, aside from her inexplicable beauty. It didn’t make sense why someone would want him to keep something like that from her.

He toyed with the idea of telling her just to spite his stalker, but something made him hold his tongue. Perhaps it was his instinct for self-preservation—he didn’t know who this person was or what they wanted with him, after all—but he couldn’t bring himself to disregard the note so easily.

[i]It’s not like it matters, anyway,[/i] he reminded himself. [i]I already decided I’m not going.[/i]

“So, what’s for dinner?” Roman asked, putting aside his thoughts about the note. “It smells great.”