Page List


Font:  

I was drowning in the position that used to belong to him.

“You know, I think I understand a little of that.” He glanced past me, taking in the old furniture that Dad had never bothered to replace, but there was no judgement in his gaze. “When our fathers are big men and good businessmen, it’s hard to believe we can ever live up to everything they are or they’ve been. Everything they’ve done or wanted. I mean, how can we do that?”

“I’ve got help, of course.” I gestured toward Wes and spared a thought for Charmaine, but my help — as good as it was — probably wasn’t like anything Patrick had in place.

I was still working out who I could trust, too.

As I considered my employees, Patrick walked around my office, somehow taking up all the space in the room, like he’d sucked out all of the air and replaced it with his essence.

He turned abruptly and caught me watching him, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from his. A shiver of lust ran through me at the desire that burned in his eyes, but despite his power, I didn’t fear him. I was attracted to him.

My wolf trusted him.

And I wasn’t interested in love, but I didn’t mind sharing his bed. I liked that part. It was amazing.

While I continued to watch him, he dialed his phone and started barking orders to whoever answered, not breaking his stride as he paced to and fro across my office. Hell, I wanted that man. I wanted to sweep everything from the surface of my desk and bend over it for him. I wanted to offer myself for him to take.

I skimmed the tip of my tongue over my lips and stepped farther away from him, trying to put myself outside the influence of whatever it was about him that made me so unrestrained.

Finally, he looked down at his phone screen and tapped his forefinger against it. “Done,” he announced. “One of my pack soldiers, Girard, will be outside the Gold Moon building within the hour. He’ll be at your service until no longer necessary.”

I started to shake my head. This was too much. His help came with…expectations. Even if he didn’t say it, surely I owed him? No one did anything for nothing, especially not in the world of big business. I didn’t know much about running a company, but I certainly understood the idea ofyou scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours…

And I wanted this man to do so much more than let me scratch his back.

I wanted him to tug my hair and run his finger over my clit again. I shivered at the mere memory.

“I don’t think—” I started to say, but stopped when he shook his head, his movement much more abrupt than mine.

More like a slice. Like it was the gesture that cut off my words.

“This is for your protection,” he said. “It’s not about business, other than ensuring your continued health to run yours.” Then he took my hands, and my breath caught.

As I watched him, he raised them to his lips and brushed his mouth over my knuckles in the lightest of kisses. It sent another shiver through me. That barest of touches made me want so much more. I wanted his mouth so many other places.

“Thank you.” He let out the words on a sigh that sounded like relief.

I tilted my head. This giant of a businessman and pack alpha was thankingme? I hadn’t done anything.

“Thank you for letting me do what I can to protect you. I could do so much more if…” But his words stopped as he closed his eyes briefly. He swallowed as though he was physically preventing himself from finishing his sentence.

There was promise there, though. Promise of something thatcouldbe. It was potential. But there was something prickling in the air around him. Apprehension. I could almost feel it brushing against my skin.

I wanted to ask so many more questions. Why was he really doing this? What did he think I needed protection from? Who? I had no doubt if he had an idea or at least an opinion. He didn’t seem to have a problem with volunteering his thoughts. After all, he was a man used to being listened to in every walk of life.

And I’d listen to him, too. There was something about the confidence with which he spoke, something that extended beyond simple arrogance. Something that made mewantto listen. I believed him when he talked. Of course, it was never truly arrogance when it was accompanied by competence.

But his phone rang and I stopped watching the impossible man in front of me, none of my questions given voice. He blinked as though his thoughts had been elsewhere too, and the look he gave me could only be described as longing… like hewantedas well, although maybe he wasn’t quite sure what it was he was searching for, or what he needed.

“Sorry,” he murmured before pressing another featherlight kiss to my knuckles.

Then he reached into his pocket and drew out his cell, the ring tone one of those that would no doubt become an accidental earworm for the rest of that day, reminding me of Patrick every time I finally thought I’d put him out of my mind.

“Yes?” His tone was as authoritative as his stride as he left my office in a mini-whirlwind of leather and cotton and ink-scented air.

The door closed behind him and I relaxed.

“Holy shit.” Wes didn’t quite screech, but he didn’t manage a whisper, either. “What the hell kind of spell did you cast on that poor man?”


Tags: Viola King Paranormal