“I never said you were. I’ve already made special arrangements for Friday. Don’t you trust me?”

Like she trusted a wolf to babysit a bunny. “I don’t trust myself.” She closed her eyes. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“I knew you found me irresistible. If you can control yourself, we’ll be fine. By the way, do you have a passport?”

“Excuse me?”

“No worries. We’ll stay domestic. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“I don’t think–” She stopped at his obstinate expression. “Fine, six o’clock. But it’s going to be a normal-sized, normal activity date. And no hanky-panky.”

“Should I hire a chaperone?”

“Do you like driving me crazy?”

“I kind of do.” He winked. “Now that that’s settled, I need some more personal assisting.” He laughed at her glare. “No, not that type. I’d like you to sort through my fan mail and send responses. For most, a note and an autographed picture will be fine. If one is really compelling, put it aside, and I’ll look at it later. Ignore the creepy ones unless they’re threatening – keep those together so I can report them to the authorities. And no matter what they say, no one has given birth to my love child.”

Cheyenne arched an eyebrow. “You actually get letters like that?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many.”

Judging by how careful he’d been to use protection each and every time they made love, he probably didn’t have any unintended children out there. “Not that I’m opposed to kids,” he suddenly said. “I’m just planning on having them with someone I actually know.”

How unexpected… and satisfying… and unexpectedly satisfying. “It’s really none of my business.” She ignored the inner voice that wanted it to be her business. She pointed toward a stack of envelopes on the desk. “Is that the fan mail?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

She started toward them.

“And those.” He pointed at a stack on the floor.

“And those.” He pointed to a box by the door.

“And those.” He pointed at four more bins on the table.

There goes police work for the morning and afternoon, possibly the entire week. “Have you saved these up all year?”

“Just this week. And of course they don’t include emails.”

“Of course not.” She held back her sigh. “It also probably doesn’t include messages from off-planet.”

“Nope. My assistant on Jupiter takes care of those.” He winked. “I’ll be working at my desk if you need anything.”

She would get through them as quickly as possible and then get back to her real job. Cheyenne opened a pink letter with red hearts and the heavy scent of eau de parfum. She whistled low. “You were right. I’m only on the first one, and you’ve already got a love child. Twins, actually. You’ve been secretly living with the family every weekend, traveling to…” She chuckled. “The Arctic? You’ve been travelling to the Arctic every weekend? That sounds exhausting.”

“It is, actually. You wouldn’t believe the difficulty of a quick jaunt across the planet.” Julian grinned. “That’s the sort of letter I discard. I don’t want to offer any encouragement.”

“Got it.” She tossed the letter into the wastebasket and opened the next. “You also have a kid in France.”

He groaned as she discarded the letter. He waited as she read the next one. “Well, you’re off the hook.” She held the letter up. “This one does not claim to have your love child.”

“Thank goodness.”

“But she wants one.”

“Fantastic.”

She laughed at his comically crestfallen expression. “She wants other things from you, as well. Want details?” She didn’t wait for an answer before crumpling the paper.