Bom stared back at Shim Hye-jin, dropping open in astonishment.

“Are you serious?”

Hye-jin nodded. “I’m afraid so. He does seem quite determined. I would have thought it an empty threat but he’s carrying an overnight bag with him.”

“He doesn’t give up,” Bom muttered.

In the past two days, Jiyong had haunted Bom’s existence. He’d called. He’d come by the Kims’ apartment. He’d gone by her bakery. He’d made it a point to show up in every conceivable place she could possibly be.

When none of that appeared to work, he’d resorted to text messages. I love you. Flowers. Tons of flowers. Every card signed I love you. The few times she’d actually come face-to-face with him, he’s just stood there, looking so haunted and determined, his eyes never leaving her face.

She felt hunted but not threatened. She was baffled by his persistence, confused by the messages.

After hanging on to desperate hope for so long, she’d made the painful, difficult decision to sever her ties to Jiyong. And now he was storming back, demanding her attention. Wanting things he’d vowed he’d never want from her.

It made no sense and she was at her wits’ end.

She nibbled at her bottom lip and stared nervously over the back of the couch toward the door. She had no doubt he’d be stubborn.

The past two days had proven that much.

“What should I do?” she asked anxiously.

The very last thing she wanted was to cause trouble for the Kims when they’d been nothing but kind and generous to her.

Hye-jin smiled indulgently and then came to sit beside her on the couch. She pulled her into a tight hug and patted her comfortingly on the back.

“My dear, you do whatever you wish. If you want to talk to him, I'll be happy to show him in and give you some privacy. Or if you don’t want to be alone I'll stand guard like a mama lion. If you prefer not to see him, I'll simply have security remove him from the premises.”

“I do love you, Mrs. Shim. If only…”

She broke off with a sigh and looked down.

“If only what, dear?”

Bom raised her gaze and smiled. “If only my mother was like you.”

Hye-jin smiled back and then leaned forward to enfold her in another of her glorious hugs. “You know you’re like a daughter to me, and Mi Kyung loves you as much as Mi Kyung is capable of loving anyone.”

Bom in a breath. “You know what? I’m not ready to see him. Not yet. He’d just run over me. When or if I decide to talk to him, it'll be on my terms. Not his.”

“That’s my girl. Okay, let me go make a call to the building security. Now don’t go looking like that. It'll be quiet and discreet.”

Bom frowned unhappily all the same and hunched her knees toward her chest as Hye-jin got off the couch to go make the call.

She wasn’t being vindictive. She wasn’t being anything at all. She’d said what she’d wanted to say to Jiyong.

There was nothing else.

But even as she reassured herself, doubt nagged at her, because somehow she knew this time Jiyong wouldn’t walk away as he’d done in the past.

* * *

Go big or go home.

The past few days had been the most frustrating days of his life. Hell, he’d tried everything he knew to get Bom to talk to him. Or just acknowledge him in some way.

Getting thrown out of the apartment building where the Kims lived had certainly capped off an already crappy day and earned him a warning from Ryeo-wook.

Yet Bom’s continued resistance just strengthened his resolve. He wasn’t going to give up no matter how long it took.

Which is how he found himself standing in the reception area of an exclusive salon. A very girlie salon filled with women of all shapes, sizes and ages waiting to be pampered.

Somewhere in one of those back rooms was his woman, and come hell or high water, today was the day she was going to listen to reason. If he had to lay bare his soul in front of countless strangers, then so be it. But Bom was going to listen this time.

But first he had to get past the dour-faced dragon lady who stood guard over the doorway leading from the reception area.

He’d simply be honest. Weren’t all women softies when it came to groveling men and the grand gestures they made for the women they love? If that didn’t work, he’d get on his knees and he damn well knew no woman would turn down that kind of an opportunity.

He started toward Dragon Lady only to see her cross her arms and scowl directly at him.

He sighed. This was so going to .

* * *

Bom was covered in some sort of muddy goo—or at least her face and belly were—but she couldn’t find it in herself to complain.

Besides, it felt good. She was relaxed.

Somewhere down there someone was massaging her feet. She closed her eyes in bliss just as someone else put nice, cool cucumber circles over her eyes.

She almost laughed at how ridiculous she must look, but then it occurred to her that she was in heaven, and really, did it matter if she looked like a cream puff in a bikini with cucumber eyes?

The hands left her insteps and she grumbled her protest but then a new set of hands—firmer, larger, not nearly as smooth as the others—closed around her heel and began massaging.

Warmth spread up her legs and her lips parted as a sigh escaped where moments before she’d protested.

She liked these hands better. They weren’t as practiced or smooth. But they hit all the right spots.

The hands moved up her leg, tenderly applying just enough pressure. Rubbing, kneading, leaving no spot untouched as they ventured higher.

It occurred to her to be alarmed at the familiarity of this person’s touch, but it felt too wonderful to end just yet.

The hands left for the briefest of moments and then a warm cloth wiped gently at her belly, cleaning away the fluffy mixture of God only knew what.

Then those wonderful hands palmed the bulge of her belly and she sighed again. But when lips pressed to her firm abdomen, she reared up, cucumber slices flying from her eyes.

To her complete surprise it was Jiyong who stood there, his hands molded to her belly.

And it was his lips that had pressed to her skin.

She tried to scramble up, but it was difficult and Jiyong put a hand to her shoulder, gently pressing her back down to a lying position.

“Why are you here?” she squeaked. “And what are you doing? Where’s my attendant? How long have you been here?”

Jiyong spread his hands out, palms up. “I’m it. I’m yours. Completely and utterly at your service to fulfill your every whim and desire.”

Her eyes rounded and flapped open and shut like she was a senseless twit.

He looked…broken. Hopeful and yet hopeless all at the same time. He looked tired.

Worn. Worried. But more than anything he looked determined. There was a glint in his eyes that told her he wasn’t backing down this time.

“I’m not having a conversation with you with all this cr