‘Serial killer on the streets?’ jumped out from the front page. Was that the killer the note had been about at the wedding in Tenebrae?
“Is he at Trident?” she asked about her husband without preamble.
Victor folded the newspaper and nodded.
“Good. Take me to him please.”
Since her salon was just a few blocks away, it didn’t take them more than a few minutes to get to the towers, even less for them to get to the 28th floor.
This late in the evening, with the sun setting over the city, there were surprisingly more guys in the open area than there had been during the daytime. All of them turned to look at her when she exited the elevator, most of them gave her the respectful version of the man-nod. Being wifed by their boss had put her on a higher scale.
“Yo,” Hector came to greet her, his bald head gleaming as always in the light.
“Yo, he in?” she greeted back with a smile. It should have unsettled her, being the only woman in a room full of men who were taller, stronger, and definitely meaner than she was. But knowing they were all Alpha’s men, that he was the tallest, strongest, meanest of the bunch, and that she was his made a warm ball of butterflies erupt in her stomach. It made her feel safe, protected, knowing that even though he didn’t love her yet, not one of these guys could put a finger on her without feeling her husband’s
wrath.
“He’s on a call,” Hector grinned. “But go ahead.”
Nodding to them, she hiked her purse on her shoulder, fixed her top to show more cleavage, and knocked on his door, entering.
His golden eye came to her as he leaned back in his chair, watching her lock the door behind her.
“She’s setting herself up to get out of the business.” A woman’s voice said from the speaker on the desk. Zephyr hesitated, expecting him to make the call private, but he didn’t, simply keeping his gaze steady on her.
Intrigued to get a glimpse of this side of him, she dropped her bag to the floor and walked around the desk, perching herself on his lap, and put her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin. She felt his body stiffen at the contact, and she gave him a squeeze, closing her eyes and breathing his scent in. God, she loved his smell, all warm and musky and masculine, like the wild forest and wet earth, like home.
“And she’s not keeping it quiet,” the woman’s voice continued. “I have a feeling she might be the next one he hits.”
His hands stayed on the arms of his chair, his body rigid under her.
If he thought she was going to be rebuffed by his lack of reciprocation, he was wrong. She was made of stubbornness and willfulness. She would break him down hug by hug until he had to put his arms around her out of sheer exasperation. She nuzzled into his chest, watching the V exposed by the top three buttons of his black shirt, the
edge of one scar peeking out on his pec.
“Keep an eye on her,” he commanded to the woman on the line, his voice gruffer than usual. Zephyr liked to think it was thanks to her proximity. “I want to know the moment something is off.”
“You got it, boss,” the woman signed off, disconnecting the call. Silence reigned in the office, the lights turning on one by one as the sun went down over the forest, burnishing the entire city.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, still keeping his hands to himself.
Zephyr smiled. “Cuddling.”
She felt him inhale, his chest expanding against her cheek, before deflating as he let out a breath. Damn, she should’ve sat the other way round. She missed out on his heartbeats. Next time.
“This isn’t part of the contract,” he reminded her, his hands gripping the armrests.
God, he was cute sometimes.
“You giving me mind-blowing orgasms isn’t either, but hey, you don’t hear me complaining.”
“Mind-blowing?”
Of course, he’d focus on that.
“Mind-blowing, bone-melting, toe-curling, earth-shattering orgasms.”
He didn’t respond but she sensed he was pleased. Men.