Helen didn’t know what to make of the scruffy, muddy, gray-stained person sitting at the only occupied booth in her currently closed restaurant.

She’d seen him a couple times before. He was always in various states of disarray, but she’d never been one to judge. Perhaps he had a messy job, or perhaps he didn’t have somewhere to stay. Regardless, anyone was welcome at her restaurant, and if he ever hadn’t been able to pay, she still would have seen to feeding him.

It didn’t hurt that he was polite and she suspected fairly handsome under all those smudges. Not to mention the godlike, muscular body hiding under his baggy clothes.

But she would have shown the same kindness to anyone. It was just her way, and her adoptive parents had taught her to never refuse anyone who needed help. Always listening to their admonition was the best way of paying them back for all they’d done.

She wistfully looked at the family photo hanging on the wall, wishing her parents were still around. But since they’d been in their sixties when they’d adopted her from the foster system, she’d always known them being gone was a reality.

She was just grateful for what she’d had.

She pulled a reheated lasagna out of the oven with a mitt and grabbed a napkin and silverware as she brought it over to the stranger.

No, he’d given her a name. Chromium?

She set down the lasagna and slid the napkin and fork over. “So you from around here?”

He shook his head and began to eat. There was a wolfishness about his movements, though he wasn’t messy, and a focus as if he was fully absorbed in the taste of the food. Goodness knew she liked a man who could eat.

Her ex had complained constantly and whined about his waistline, while also critiquing hers and putting pressure on her to lose weight. She rubbed a hand over her side, still feeling self-conscious whenever she thought about him.

She’d never been able to control her weight, and that was probably why she’d never had a chance with a guy like the one in front of her.

Man, her ex had really done a number on her.

Chromium looked up at her, taking a break from inhaling his dinner. “They’ll be back. Those guys.”

She swallowed. Chromium had said they meant to rob her, but why? Her restaurant had always barely made it by the time she paid fair wages to her staff. Who would want to rob her? “Are you sure they meant my place?”

He nodded. “I heard them mention you by name.”

She flushed lightly. “You remembered my name?”

He nodded again. There was something kind of appealing about a man who was so quiet. As if he didn’t feel the need to bark orders constantly or whine or opine about himself.

That was a nice change of pace.

But she found herself wanting more from this Chromium person. To open him up and really hear him talk, see what he was all about.

Though, to her, he was effectively a stranger.

“What is it? Something on my face?” He cocked his head.

“No,” she said with a giggle. “But I mean, there’s a bunch of dirt on your face. I mean, you usually look a little worse for wear when you come in here. What do you do for a living?”

He rolled his lips together while he considered his answer. “I can’t tell you that.”

She frowned. “Oh.”

“But I can tell you those guys are planning to be back. I should stay here.”

She coughed. “What?”

“Keep the place safe.”

She folded her arms and leaned back in the chair she’d pulled up to his booth. “Why would you do that, though?” Then a lightbulb went off. “Oh, do you need a place to stay?” Perhaps he was making an excuse. Perhaps he was suggesting something that was mutually beneficial. Either way, she had the perfect room for situations like this, and she liked helping people get on their feet.

His eyes narrowed, and he stared at the table as he seemed to be facing some kind of inner battle. Then he looked up into her eyes and nodded.

She felt a shock wave go through her at her first real look at those eyes. The most extraordinary-colored irises looked back at her. Impossibly light and creamy but a distinctive shade of blueish-green. Like a perfect tropical ocean but cloudy.

Wow.

Wait. He’d nodded. She straightened in her chair, blinking her way out of her trance. “I have just the place right above the restaurant. Anyone down on their luck can stay there until they get back on their feet.”

His brows lowered. “I’m not down on my luck.” He sat back, beefy arms folded, and his chin jutted out stubbornly. He had a magnificent chin.

She’d have to go up and read some of her romance novels later to get it out of her mind. She probably had a better chance with an imaginary book character than she did with him.

But in the meantime, she’d obviously hurt his pride by suggesting he needed her help when clearly he wanted to ensure that she felt she was needing his help.

“I mean, or if I need an impromptu bodyguard, that, too.”

He looked satisfied by that but was still studying her with that unnerving glare.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“You didn’t offend me,” he said shortly. “So where is this place?”

She got up and reached for his dish, but he picked it up first.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She led him to the kitchen, and he dropped it in the sink. She assured him that the kitchen staff would take care of it in the morning.

Reluctantly, he left it there and followed her out of the restaurant and up the stairs that led up the side of the building.

She didn’t offer the room to just anyone, but she trusted her gut on it, and her gut said this man was a good person. She just had a great feeling about him.

She wasn’t swayed by his semi-hidden beauty. Nope. Not at all.

She opened the door to the apartment and motioned for him to go in.

He did, folding his arms and looking around with a small frown. “It’s tiny.”

She wrinkled her nose as she followed him inside and shut the door behind them. If the guy had wanted to attack her, he’d had all sorts of opportunities before. And besides, she had her taser on her at all times.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I told you I’m not a beggar,” he said, and the princely way he looked around the apartment made him seem like someone who legitimately had been in nicer places and was shocked by the state of this place.

She rankled at that, and her hands clenched into fists. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “So is it now I who have offended you?”

“No,” she said, flustered. “I just… spent a lot of time fixing up this place. That’s all. I’m not used to having it insulted.”

His expression softened. “I didn’t insult it. I simply said it was tiny.” He reached up and bumped his hand on the ceiling, showing how close it was to his head. “Then again, a lot of things are compared to me.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, and I suppose you’re used to living in a mansion.” She ran her eyes down his body, taking in his ragged appearance. “That’s why you always show up looking like you’ve been on the wrong end of a fight.”

“I’m never on the wrong end of a fight,” he said, drawing to his full height cockily.

They were at an impasse, and she could practically feel the heat in the room, the rising tension, as if there were sparks between them.

They were good at setting each other off; that was certain.

But this was a good man, one who’d defended her and her place and been a gentleman so far. And he was right. Compared to him, everything was tiny.

“I’m sorry it’s so small.”

“I’m sorry for being rude.” He looked to the side, and she realized he was flushing slightly. “I don’t always understand social mores, but I will avoid mentioning the size of the apartment in the future. My goal is to protect you and the restaurant. I do not need deluxe commodities.”

She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh because he was being insulting again without meaning to be. “I see.”

He was back to checking out the room. “I will need to call someone. Let them know where I am.”

She raised an eyebrow. Who would that be? A woman perhaps? “Okay. Do you need a phone?”

He pulled a phone out of his pocket, and she was surprised to see that it was a newer model. “I’m fine. Just need to make sure no one is worried.”

She frowned, wondering where he would usually be. A shelter maybe? Who was she to judge? Still, if he really did have somewhere to be and someone who was expecting him, should he really be staying?

He sent her a stubborn look over his shoulder, almost as if he expected her to fight him on it. “I’m staying.”

She shrugged. “All right, if you want to. But honestly, I can take care of myself.”

He snorted in disbelief, and she faced him, eyes widening. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She sputtered at his arrogance. “This is my place. I’ll be the one giving the orders.”

He tilted his head, a wicked smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “Oh? And what do you want to do?”

She tightened her hands into fists. “I’m going to bed. You should do the same.” She whirled on her heel and heard his low, sexy laughter behind her.

When the door was shut and she was headed to her apartment next door, she tried to tell her heart to stop pounding.

No man had ever given her commands like that. She was always used to running things and being in control. So why, despite her feigned offense, did she find it a little… sexy?

She let out a snort of frustration and got ready for bed, deciding the handsome stranger wasn’t worth another thought until the next morning.