Page 16 of Stripe Theory

She slipped out, leaving them alone. The office suddenly felt very small.

“We should...” Alora gestured vaguely toward the door, trying not to stare at how his sweater clung to his shoulders.

“Yes.” He didn’t move.

“The restaurant...”

“Right.” Still not moving, his gaze tracking over her with predatory focus.

“Unless you’d rather stay here and count test tubes?”

That startled a laugh from him—a real one that transformed his entire face. “Tempting, but I suspect your parents would hunt me down.”

“Oh god, they would.” She grabbed her purse. “Mom would probably bring presentation slides about proper dinner etiquette.”

“Speaking of presentations...” He fell into step beside her as they walked to the elevator. “Should I be concerned about your father’s?”

“Only if you’re afraid of extensive genetic mapping and subtle interrogation about your financial portfolio.” She grinnedup at him. “Fair warning—he once made my sister’s prom date cry with a discussion about inheritance patterns.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“Famous last words.”

The driveto the restaurant was awkward. Just like teens on a first date. Trapped in close proximity, his scent—sandalwood and wild places—wrapped around her. “I should probably warn you about Mom’s questions. She gets very... enthusiastic about shifter biology.”

His lips twitched. “More enthusiastic than her daughter who decorates her lab with tigers?”

“Way worse. I at least maintain some professional dignity.”

“Is that what you call the exploding centrifuge?”

“That was a calculated risk in the name of science.”

“The purple smoke was calculated?”

“The color was a bonus. And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy playing hero.”

His eyes darkened. “I don’t play at protecting what’s mine.”

The air between them charged with electricity. Wait—what did he mean bymine?

Before she could ask, they arrived, and the valet opened her car door. Her parents stood in the restaurant lobby, both beaming with the kind of enthusiasm that promised thorough embarrassment.

“Darling!” Her mother stepped forward, elegant as always in a silk blouse and pearls. Her eyes sparkled with scientific curiosity as they landed on Rehan. “And you must be Mr. Kedi! I have so many questions about shifter genetic expression...”

TWELVE

“Mom,” Alora warned. “Let him at least sit down first.”

“Of course, of course.” But her mother’s tablet was already in hand, probably filled with carefully prepared questions about tiger DNA.

Her father approached more sedately, though his casual stance didn’t fool Alora. He had hisanalyzing potential research competitionface on.

“Mr. Kedi.” He extended his hand. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing your interest in my daughter’s work.”

Rehan met his grip firmly. “Dr. Sky. Your daughter’s research is revolutionary.”

“Yes, it is.” Her father’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Shall we discuss exactly how you plan to support that revolution?”

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