Dylan knew Sera was gone before he even stepped out of the shower. He'd anticipated that she might be a little upset that he'd moved her things around. But in all honesty, who lived like that? He'd done her a favor. Sure you did.

Barely toweling off before throwing on his clothes, he grabbed his badge and gun. Sure, he knew where to find her, but with someone on her tail he still had a job to do and he wasn't letting her get too far without protection. Quickly checking the GPS tracker, he knew exactly where she was. She'd gone in to work on a Saturday.

Maybe she'd left something. It didn't make any sense. It's not like she worked some crazy job where she was trying to cure cancer or save the world. She was a lifestyle brand manager. She made companies look good. That was the entirety of her job title.

As he set the alarm, he caught sight of an envelope sticking out of the mail slot. It hadn't been there last night. Pulling it out, he carefully opened it. And his hands curled into fists as he pulled out photos of him and Sera from last night. His carelessness hit him like a fist in the gut. While he'd been busy establishing cover with his hands on her ass, someone had been watching them. The senator might be using him, but she was right about the danger to Sera. He had to get to her.

It took him less than fifteen minutes to drive from her bungalow to the office downtown. The DC office had already called ahead and made accommodations for him to have an office in her office building. The San Diego field office was located twenty minutes farther north in Sorrento Valley and it would have been impossible to watch her from there.

From his notes on her he knew that she preferred to take the ferry in from Coronado, but if he was lucky, he might even beat her in.

Whipping the car over the nearly car-free San Diego streets was a dream. He didn't usually splurge, but when he'd found out they had the new Dodge Charger available to rent, he'd let the kid inside take over. He was still a federal officer, which meant the bureau had a limit on what they would pay for. In this case he'd paid the difference just to have this car. The ride was smooth, even though the car was powerful as hell.

After whipping into the underground parking garage, he took the elevator up to what would be his office.

It was nothing impressive, four walls, not very big, but the one great feature: floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown. They could have done worse.

He fired up his laptop and while he waited for it to boot up, he checked the GPS tracker. She was walking from the ferry station to the building. He almost groaned aloud at her sheer lack of concern for her own safety. She'd been the one to call her mother. Presumably because she was scared. Why was she acting like an idiot?

The moment he got his hands on her he'd—kiss her—What? No. Where the hell had that come from? His cock twitched. Never mind, he knew where.

No. He'd read her the damn riot act. If he had to handcuff her to him to make this work, then he'd do it. His future depended on her cooperation and he'd get it one way or another.

Hmmm. They could have a lot of fun with handcuffs. Fuck. What was wrong with him? The moment she was in the building, and he had her on the cameras he relaxed. He'd give her time to do whatever it was she came to do, but then he and Sera were going to have a serious conversation.

* * *

Sera tossed her purse and keys onto her desk before grabbing her laptop and heading down to the research room. Stark kept track of every single campaign they'd ever done. As well as competitor campaigns that were extremely successful. No need to reinvent the wheel. It wasn't that she was going to recycle as much as she was going to get some inspiration.

She'd never been in the office when it was this empty before. A few times she'd worked late, but even then, there had been cleaning crew around. But as she approached the research room and her tennis shoes shuffled on the carpet, she realized she wasn't alone in the office after all. Jason had had the same idea.

"Oh hey," she muttered. "I didn't know anybody else was in the office."

He whipped his head around. "Hey, Sera. Great minds, I guess." His grin flashed, complete with the eye crinkle at the corners. It was the first real smile she'd seen from him in a year and a half of working there. "So, Girl Interrupted. Somehow I always figured you for the girly campaigns."

Sera rolled her eyes. "Oh, because that's not sexist at all. Not even a little bit. And hello, Girl Interrupted is the very definition of girl, as it's right in the title." She scoffed, working hard to infuse sarcasm into each of her words.

He laughed and sat straighter. "Sorry. But you know what I mean. You never struck me as a not-for-profit kind of girl. And that pitch. It was…interesting."

So he wanted her to kick his ass. Lucky for him she was in the ass-kicking kind of mood. "Wait, let me guess, you're not always an asshole, but when you are, you do it spectacularly."

Shaking his head, he laughed. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sticking my foot in it. I sort of thought this project was a shoe-in, since I do business accounts and large philanthropies."

And since the boss is your uncle. But she kept that to herself. "I'm small and scrappy. You probably shouldn't discount me."

"I don't. Certainly not now."

"Sure you don't. Anyway, since we're both here, we might as well work together."

"We'd be starting on Monday anyway." He dragged over a stack of past campaigns. "I started pulling the campaigns that are probably similar in messaging to what the client is looking for."

She glanced at the stack. Most of the ones he pulled were on her list to research. She opened up her laptop, pulling up her files. "Cool. I have another couple of out-of-the-box ones that might work too."

He frowned when he saw her list. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't even think about those as options."

She shrugged. "Well, we are still marketing to the same audience as the beauty market. Just with a different message, so these might work."

"Smart."

"I know." She couldn't help the smug twist of her lips. And if she was being honest, he wasn't just a pretty face whose uncle owned the joint. He'd been the last person she'd expected to see in here on a Saturday. That's because you assumed that he'd still be up to the same college antics.

"Did you intern here in the summers before you graduated undergrad?" he asked.

"One summer. But the other was back east for Talbort Media." It was the first job she'd ever gotten without the help of her mother. She'd even gone so far as to use her mother's maiden name to apply so no one would know who she was.

His brows rose and he looked impressed. "Oh yeah? I love their style. Super clean, and edgy. Did you go to school out there?"

And just when she thought she was living in some surreal world where Jason Stark knew her name, he shattered the illusion. "No. I went to SDU."

He frowned. "No kidding? So did I."

Were they for real having this conversation? "I know, we had Economics and Business Administration together."

He shook his head. "I mean, I knew I'd seen you somewhere before, but I couldn't place it."

Oh yeah, how about that party at Kappa Nu where you tried to convince me that I wanted to have sex with you, and then you passed out? "Yeah, well." This is not happening. Note to self: next time, bring a freaking recorder for Taj.

His smile was sheepish. "I spent more time than I should have fucked up. There's a lot I don't remember."

"It's cool. No big deal."

He hung his head. "Jesus, you must think I'm the world's biggest douchebag.”

Yes, yes I do. She forced her head to move from side-to-side instead of the up-and-down she would have preferred. "No. You're fine."

"No. I should have remembered you."

She shrugged, noncommittal. What, like they were gong to be best buds now? They worked in silence for another thirty minutes before he spoke to her again. "You were out at the Exchange last night, right?"

"Yeah, girls’ night." The hairs on the back of her next stood at attention as she turned to look at him.

"Yeah, I thought I saw you. Then you vanished with some dude."

She ground her teeth, about to explain that Dylan was nothing of the sort, then she remembered her mother's words and shut her mouth. "Something like that."

So they were friends now? She studied him carefully, her guard up. All that mattered was that she be the permanent rep for this account. She'd have to be careful with Jason. Something told her this friendship was too good to be true.

* * *

With Sera safely in the building, Dylan had managed to get some work done. His stomach grumbled and he checked the time. It was one. If he was hungry, Sera probably was too.

Uh-huh. You just want to see her. Not okay. He'd have to get this attraction shit under control. Clearly she wasn't his type. His type was, well, Symone. Cultured, refined, contained. He wasn't here to get distracted by some difficult, sassy, messy, sexy girl who tasted like honey. He had to stop thinking about how she tasted. Because when he thought about that, then he thought about how soft she was, wet and plastered over him like a body glove, perfect tits in his face. A wave of lust nearly smacked him upside the head. Damn. Get your shit together.

Dylan closed down all the monitors and took the elevator the few floors up to Stark’s floor. He found her in the office down the hall from hers. She was leaned over the desk doing something. Beside her, there was a familiar-looking guy with his eyes on Sera's ass instead of on whatever she was doing on the shared desk. Dylan scowled.

Her voice was light and excited. "See, I think if you just make that little change, it completely elevates everything. I mean, that's what I'd do anyway."

The guy finally managed to tear his eyes off her ass and focus on whatever she was doing. "Yeah. That's amazing actually. Then maybe I could do this." He fiddled with something before sitting back again. "Sera, I don't know what to say, your ideas are—"

Yeah, he wasn't watching while doofus here attempted to hit on his girlfriend. Pretend girlfriend. Emphasis on the pretend. He had to remember that shit. "You two seem cozy."

Sera jumped, then clamped a hand to her chest. "Jesus, Dylan, you scared the shit out of me."

He should feel sorry about that, considering. But she was the one who'd given him the slip. "Sorry, sweetheart. I guess you guys didn't see me there. I was downstairs working and figured my girl could use some lunch."

She frowned when he said “sweetheart,” and the tiny frown lines only deepened when he said “my girl.” Good. He strolled into the room and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close.

Her eyes went wide before she narrowed them at him. She wanted to be difficult? Why didn't she understand that he had a job to do?

Only there was a problem with holding her so close. It made it hard to think like a rational man who wanted to keep his job.

As he leaned forward, he tried to steel himself for the contact. For the softness of her skin, for her scent, but it was no use. This close, it was a heady cocktail that went straight to his head and his cock. He nuzzled her softly, and said just loudly enough for Casanova to hear, "I missed you, so I thought we could grab lunch and get some stuff for the house, baby."

Her eyes softened, going hazy and unfocused and her lashes fluttered. "Oh, yeah, I guess I hadn't realized it was that late."

In retrospect the kiss just happened. It wasn't his fault. One second he was holding her against him, the next second, he was ghosting his lips over hers. She gasped in surprise and, like the asshole he was, he took full advantage, delving his tongue in and stroking deep, desperate for a taste.

He was like a damn junkie. The moment her tongue slid against his, all the tension he'd been carrying around since last night melted right out of his body. It was the most settled he'd felt in days. What the hell?

The other guy was watching them with interest and his fingers tightened on her waist. But luckily saner minds prevailed, lest he start mauling her on the table. Breaking off the kiss, he turned to face their audience. "Oh hey man, sorry about that. We get a little carried away sometimes. I'm Dylan. Sera's boyfriend." Damn it. He knew the guy. From the club last night. He'd filled him in on the bar-top dancing.

He'd almost added “Agent Donovan,” but that probably would have been overkill to rub it in the guy's face that he had a gun.

As if shaking off a daze, the other dude stood. Dylan smirked when Casanova had to look up to meet his eyes. Their handshake was brief, both of them employing firm grips, Dylan was careful not to posture too much, though.

"Hey, yeah. From the bar last night. I'm Jason. Sera and I were just going over a game plan for our meeting Monday. We've got our work cut out for us for the next few weeks together."

Read: I'll be spending a lot of time with your girlfriend, asshole. And I have lots of unprofessional fantasies about those tits.

Dylan's hands curled into fists.

Okay, so maybe he was overstepping again. But he didn't like the saccharine way the guy said Sera's name. Dylan flickered his gaze to Sera's dazed one and gave her his best grin. "Sera is incredible at pretty much everything she does. You should see some of the stuff she comes up with. I honestly can't believe it myself."

Sera stiffened in his arms and he traced a circle on her lower back. She relaxed immediately. "Uh, Jason and I actually went to college together."

Fucking fantastic. He'd have to do his due diligence on their shared history. "Oh great. Must be awesome, you guys working together."

She laughed awkwardly. "We didn't know each other back in school."

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, but he looked at Dylan levelly when he said, "Yeah, but that's changing now."

Dylan lifted a brow then turned an adoring gaze onto Sera. "She's sort of impossible to forget once you meet her."

Sera blinked at him and again it was like they were locked in that world where they were completely alone and no one else could penetrate. But she broke eye contact, tugging him toward the door. "Okay, well, look at the time. We have to go."

* * *

Sera stomped into her office. "Do want to explain how you found me?”

He laughed. "Trade secret. Even if it weren't, do you think I'd tell you?"

"Jesus, what are you, a fixer bounty hunter?"

"Yeah, that's not a thing." He replied shaking his head.

She waved both hands at him. "Obviously it's a thing. Otherwise why would you be here?"

His exhale was sharp. Did she always talk so much? "I'm your babysitter."

"Yeah, I know. To make sure I get my ass to DC to take all the pretty pictures with Mommy Dearest. But it's not like you don't know where I am. I'm not going anywhere."

"Says the woman who snuck out of the house while I was in the shower."

She folded her arms and the motion did something wonderful to her breasts. Focus, dammit. "I get it, I'm stuck with you, but I can't live like this, so we need to figure something else out. You can't be under my roof. What's it going to take to convince you to go?"

Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets. "Tough break, princess, I'm here to stay. Your mother's call. Remember the cover: I'm your boyfriend. And by the way, your boyfriend would be pissed off if some guy was checking out your ass."

Her dark eyes rounded. "He was not."

"Yes, he was. When you were leaning over the desk."

Pink tinged her cheeks and she growled. "You acted like a jealous Neanderthal."

The fuck he had. He leaned down so their eyes were level and placed his hands on her shoulders, in part to keep her there long enough to listen, but also to drive his point home.

"And you acted like a spoiled brat. Or have you forgotten the little reason why I'm here?"

She smiled at him sweetly. That was his first warning. Then she stepped into his arms. Like an idiot, his body heated and he couldn't think. Then she whispered her displeasure using some very inventive compound words, all involving the word “fuck.”

Dylan very deliberately took a step back. And dragged in air. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?" He wasn't. But if she'd believe it, he'd say it.

She narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips. "Are you sorry?"

He worked hard to bite back a smile. "Nope."

"Are you always this honest?"

"Usually." He shrugged.

"You must be a real treat as a boyfriend. I mean seriously impressive. I can't imagine having to deal with you on a permanent basis."

"What? I think I'm a catch. Plenty of women think I'm a catch."

She laughed humorlessly. "Oh right, what part—the part where you're domineering? Or maybe the part where you're bossy and take over my life? Maybe the part where you clean up after me with a disapproving glare."

"I do not have a disapproving glare. But you have to admit, you're an insane pack rat. You have a million magazines. And more lip gloss than can possibly be good for you."

She threw up her hands. "I need to keep those for research."

"You can't get them online or something? They're everywhere. And the lip gloss. You have an addiction. Just admit it."

Focus, Donovan. Pay fucking attention.

"I know you don't understand it, and your super neat-freak vibe is really annoying."

He shrugged. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been called annoying. Women usually called him worse. "Are you ready to go?"

She gaped at him. "Seriously, you're not going to apologize for invading my privacy?"

"Will it end this conversation any faster?"

"No. Let's be clear, you're not staying. I don't care what it takes, but by the end of the week you'll be gone."

"If you say so."