Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 131137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Hell, she really needed to get her shit together. Needed to remind herself just why she was refusing him. In fact, she spent most of her morning at work trying to do just that, but he blew that out of the water when another gift arrived from him. Not anything romantic or expensive or corny. No. It was a Dead Fred pen holder. If you stabbed the red chunk of silicone rubber that was shaped like a dead body, it would hold the pen right there just like that.
Clearly he’d remembered her little quirk of always losing pens, and she knew this would sit nicely near her hallway phone at home. Nick’s note had suggested that she could pretend the rubber body was him and get out all her anger by stabbing the pen holder over and over. She did. It was pretty therapeutic. Kent also had a go at it, pretending it was his boyfriend’s mother. Again, Nick had made her laugh. Idiot. She had then received a text message from him while on her break:
Missing me?
Though she had promised herself she would never, ever, ever reply to his texts and encourage what she should consider annoying behavior, she had found herself responding:
Sadly, yes, my aim seems to be off lately—either that or I need a new rifle.
Then she had waited in anticipation for a response—irritated about the whole “anticipation” part but unable to help it. She’d soon received one:
I’d ask how you’re doing and if you’ve been busy today, but these new binoculars work great—a “must-have” for all intense investigators.
And, once again, she was fighting a smile. Once again, she failed. What further irritated her was that when he turned up at the salon at lunchtime, she was pleased to see him.
Apparently, so was Paisley, because she was immediately at his side, trailing along as he made his way to Shaya. “Are you here to book an appointment, sir, or were you hoping to—”
Nick looked at Paisley. “I’m not here to get my hair done. I’m Shaya’s—”
“Boyfriend,” blurted Shaya before Nick could use the term “mate” and, in turn, reveal that she wasn’t totally human. After her grumbling last night about him not stating that she was his mate, he would undoubtedly have been clear this time.
Paisley’s surprised gaze shot to Shaya. “Boyfriend?”
If she had said friend, it would have pissed Nick off. “Boyfriend” would placate him and prevent him from saying more. Forcing a casual smile, she nodded. “Nick, what are you doing here?”
Picking up that Shaya was hiding her shifter blood from her colleague, Nick dropped the issue. He came close and began toying with her hair. “Have lunch with me.”
It hadn’t been a request or an invitation—it had been a soft command. “I can’t, I have a client coming in now.”
“I’ll wait. I can be very patient when it comes to getting what I want.”
She knew he was talking about more than just lunch. Agitated that both she and her wolf found his persistence and determination attractive, Shaya almost growled. It was one thing for him to give her a ride to work, or to cook her a meal, or to buy her gifts. It was completely different to go somewhere with him—this might not be a date, but it was close enough to count. “Nick, I don’t think—”
Nick placed a finger against her mouth. He’d anticipated that she would resist, and he understood why. But he couldn’t win her trust if he didn’t get opportunities to prove that he was trustworthy. That meant them spending time together. “Shay, you need to eat. I need to eat. Eating together makes perfect sense.”
The tricky asshole made it sound so simple and innocent. This was the thing about Nick: he wasn’t overbearing, oppressive, and tyrannical like a lot of alphas. He mostly expressed and exercised his dominance in a subtle, smooth way. He led with words and influences, projecting a calm assurance that he would get his own way and didn’t need to raise his voice or browbeat anyone in order to get it. The power radiating from him also warned that he was indeed capable of taking care of anyone who refused to do as he’d asked.
She wished she could say that his power and his subtle dominance wasn’t a turn-on, but it damn well was. It promised safety, security, and sexual satisfaction she’d never before experienced. His tone might have been reassuring, but his mischievous expression was anything but. “Kent might not like it if I—”
Her friend and boss waved a hand dismissively. “I’m totally fine with it. No need to worry.” Traitor.
Satisfied, Nick nodded at Kent and then turned back to Shaya. “I’ll be waiting on the chair over by the reception desk. When you’re done, we can leave.”
He was gone before Shaya could say anything else. The entire time she worked, he watched her. Watched her with eyes that missed absolutely nothing—eyes that hid nothing of his need for her. For once, Paisley wasn’t hovering over her while she worked. That would have been a good thing if Paisley wasn’t instead spending her time flirting with Nick. But Shaya wasn’t surprised by the blonde’s behavior. Nick’s quiet confidence, total self-assuredness, raw magnetism, and calm assertiveness tangled together to create a package that would appeal to any female.