Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Because of her new duties in the pack, her increasingly improving control of her wolf, and her perseverance with the training he was giving her, the pack had settled around her. There were some who still had some reserves—namely Greta, Cam, and Trey. But it was only ever Greta who voiced them, and that was no longer out of any real concern. Greta did that purely to torment Jaime for fun.
He could sense that Greta actually admired Jaime for the strength she had shown. But obviously the old woman would never admit it aloud.
Dante wasn’t really in much of a position to criticize people who wouldn’t admit things aloud.
Not considering the thoughts he’d been having and keeping to himself lately. Six nights ago, he had lain there looking at Jaime’s sleeping face, thinking about just how different his life had become since she came along. Being his support boat, his assistant, and his confidant, she was much like a Beta female, he’d mused. A second later he’d dismissed that thought, because no, it was more than that.
She was like an enforcer, a Beta female, and a mate all rolled into one. And that was when he had first started contemplating the idea of imprinting.
His aversion to mating up until now had been that he didn’t want to have to give up his position within the pack. But he knew that Jaime would never ask him to do that. Even when he was neglecting and hurting her, she hadn’t given him an ultimatum. In fact, she was supportive of his job and even helped him juggle his responsibilities so he could have a work/life balance. Not only that, but he cared about her. Cared more deeply than he was comfortable admitting. In short, she was everything he needed and wanted. The only thing he wanted now was more of her. He wanted, needed, every single part of her.
Getting her to agree to imprint, however…that could prove to be difficult. Although she was battling hard to maintain control of her wolf, and fully intended to win that battle long-term, he knew that she had her doubts. She would never mate with him, as she would see that as risking his life. If she had been anyone else, he’d have been confident that he could wear her down over time, but he could begrudgingly admit that the woman was, in fact, more stubborn than he was. He’d learned quickly that she was resistant to bribery and emotional blackmail. She was also way too smart to fall for his attempts at reverse psychology, so little tricks would get him nowhere.
He told himself to just be satisfied with what he had, but now that he’d explored the prospect of imprinting, he couldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he owned her, body, heart, mind, and soul. That presented him with an even bigger problem. If he wanted to be bonded to her that badly, there was a good chance that the process of imprinting would automatically begin. What he had to decide now was whether he should tell her what he wanted, or whether to let her find out when she suddenly started wearing his scent and sensing his feelings. Yeah, he didn’t think Jaime would appreciate the latter. But to tell her what he wanted would be to risk her leaving him. He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t.
“You’re staring,” Jaime accused in a singsong voice from the small sofa to the left of his desk.
She hadn’t had to look up from her laptop computer—she was supposed to be checking the Pack Web but had ended up playing solitaire—to know that. She’d felt his eyes on her; she always did. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel that she was the only thing he could see, the only thing of any relevance to his life. His need for her—both sexual and emotional—was right there in his eyes for her to see whenever she wanted to. He didn’t hide it, didn’t hold back from her anymore. And she loved it.
Jaime hadn’t found it at all surprising that his office was immaculately tidy and orderly. So orderly that it often made her want to mess it up just for fun. Honestly, neat places were the equivalent of big, red, tempting “Don’t Press” buttons to her. But Dante would probably hyperventilate, and while that would also be fun to watch, it would make him take longer with his work.
Opting out of telling her that he’d also been lost in thoughts of imprinting on her, Dante instead said, “Give me a number between one and twenty.”
Unable to see where this was going, she shrugged. “Eleven.”
“You lose. Now strip off your clothes.”
She laughed, adoring how roguish he could be sometimes. Despite being a naturally good-humored person, he was only ever this playful with her. She loved that he was comfortable enough to drop his guard for her. “Aren’t you supposed to be going on a pack run?” He was, but he didn’t want to go without her. He felt bad leaving her behind, hated the idea of her alone and yearning to run with them but not able to. “Too much paperwork to do.”