I STARED AT the tall, blond male who opened the door of the Williamsburg apartment. My gaze took in his stunning blue eyes, full mouth, and perfectly symmetrical face, and I knew immediately that Tennin wasn’t human. No human gene pool or plastic surgeon could produce such flawless beauty. He certainly looked nothing like those scruffy, unkempt paparazzi I’d seen glimpses of on TV.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he drawled appreciatively as he looked me up and down. “When you buzzed up and said who you were, I was dubious. I guess I don’t need to see your ID to confirm your identity. Has anyone ever told you that you could be a clone of your mother?”
“I might have heard that before.”
Tennin smiled and waved me inside his sparsely furnished apartment. In the living room, there was a white leather
