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“I won’t send anyone to your friend without your permission.” That surprises me enough that I don’t answer immediately. He reads my face and says, “You expected me to do it anyway.”

“I expected you to think about doing it anyway.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Nikolai.”

“I said I won’t.”

I believe him. That’s new enough to make me uncomfortable. I look down at my hands. “I can warn her myself.”

“Do that.”

“I will.”

“And tell me if he contacts her.”

“I will consider it.”

“Elara.”

“I will tell you,” I say, because he has that look again, the one that says he is two seconds away from becoming impossible. “Happy?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

His phone vibrates. He glances at it, reads whatever has arrived, and his expression settles into something more controlled.

“Can you really trace where he is right now?” I ask.

“I can, but like you said, I won’t do it until you ask that of me,” he says.

I sigh in relief.

“How does he get so info on you?”

“He’s in tech, and unfortunately Evan has connections in the city,” I say.

“Does he now?” he says dryly.

“How did he recognize you anyway?” I ask.

Nikolai is silent for a while before he speaks. “He probably visits one of my clubs. I know his type, I know what he’s capable of.”

I tug at his hand. “But he’s not here now. So can we please stop talking about him?”

He stands, crosses to the sideboard, and pours water into a glass. When he brings it to me, he doesn’t touch my hand until I reach for it.

That restraint does something strange to my chest.

“Drink,” he says.

“You do know how to ask, right?”

“I do.”

“You just choose not to?”