“No.” I insulted her. She’s touchy about something. Money? Or me blurring the lines between us? “It was my decision to have you accompany me. It’s only right that I cover the expenses.”
“It won’t look right. To Accounting.”
“Accounting won’t give a damn.” They’ll never see it because I paid for everything out of my own pocket. Something tells me she’ll like that even less. “It was a means to an end.”
She studies me, searching for signs that I’m lying. Which I am.
Finally satisfied, she relaxes in her seat. “So whose ticket did I steal?”
“What?”
“The plus one. Who canceled on you?” A mischievous smile hovers over her lips. “Who was going to be your date?”
“There was no plus one. My sister gives me an extra ticket just to fuck with me. She knows I never bring anyone.”
“Except me.”
“Ruby insisted I bring someone, and you’re the only one I can stand.”
She blinks. That was too close to being sweet, so I add, “You’re my employee. I can order you to shut up.”
“Charming.” Now she sounds close to laughing. “No wonder you don’t have a date.”
“Did you study the guest list?”
She straightens, snapping into employee mode. “Yes, sir. I have it all up here.” She taps her temple.
“Of course you do.” There’s actual warmth in my voice, and she tips her face up to mine, going still when we lock gazes. I have to resist reaching out to push one of the curls from her cheek.
She’s right to question her role. I’m blurring all the lines tonight. I can bluster and insist she’s only my assistant, but she’s in the backseat of my limo, looking like a movie star ready for the red carpet.
My wolf thrashes beneath the surface. He wants her.
I don’t know why he’d be interested in a human, but he is.
I mean, I get it. Madison is unusual. Enticing.
But she’s a human. Wolves don’t mate humans. At least not alpha wolves.
Still, my wolf pushes me forward, and I find myself leaning in, invading her personal space. Fates, I want to kiss those red lips. Not like a gentleman. Not like the guy in a tux sitting in a limo with a beautiful female. No, I want to devour her mouth like the wild beast I am.
She goes still, holding her breath. Waiting for it.
Her lips part. I want to bite them and suck them and-
Wrong. It would be so wrong.
I force myself back. It takes more effort than I expected, and a growl of dissatisfaction from my wolf ratchets up my throat.
I cover it with my usual gruff admonishments. “After tonight, no more windows. I mean it.”
She’s nonplussed.
Her lips twitch, and she reaches for the straps on her dress, shaking her shoulders as she adjusts slightly. I try not to imagine how her breasts are shifting beneath the fabric, and then it’s too late. My gaze lowers to the cut-out-why did I mention it?
-and I’m stuck staring. I literally cannot look away.
Her red-painted fingertips skim the edges of the window, and a growl comes from my lips before I manage to close them and force myself to look away. Fortunately, Tony pulls up in front of the hotel where the ball is being held, and I throw my door open and climb out. I’m halfway to opening hers-force of habit, I tell myself-when she opens it herself. Tony is already there holding his hand out to help her out, and I have to bite back another growl.
My wolf hates that Tony gets to be the guy who ushers her out of the limo.
As soon as I can, I step in and offer my arm. I can’t help it. Madison’s brows shoot up to her hairline, but she accepts. Her touch is light and delicate, searing me through my tuxedo jacket. Even in her stilettos, I tower over her.
I stride up the red carpet, past flashing cameras. Madison’s grip tightens.
It’s all right,
I want to soothe her. The red carpet paparazzi can be intimidating at first.
You look perfect.
And she does. She looks like she belongs.
Except she’s struggling to keep up with my long strides. I slow down, so she only has to take two steps to my one.
“I told you not to wear those things,” I mutter, glaring at her high heels.
“Your suggestion was noted and rejected.” Her red lips barely move. She’s already perfected the art of whispering while smiling at the cameras.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
“What else would I wear with a twenty thousand dollar dress?”
“Whatever you damn well please. Except, in this case, it would be what I please.”
She gazes up at me with an adoring expression, hamming it up for our audience, and Fates, it’s all I can do not to rip off her gown and claim her right here.
“Next time, you obey.”
“Next time?” Her eyes widen, and she stumbles. I steady her with a hand on my arm.
“Careful.”
Her cheeks flush. From nerves? Or my touch? “Fine. Next time I’ll wear Birkenstocks and a mumu. Happy?”
“Very.” As if a mumu will put me off. I’ll just want to tear it off her.
Reporters call out to us, asking for us to stop on a step and pose. I ignore them. Another cameraman steps in front of us, desperate to get a newsworthy shot, and I growl, stepping between him and Madison. I set a hand at her back to urge her forward and shield her with my body as she hurries up the steps. Her hips roll under the skin-skimming satin, and I stop, fighting the urge to leap up the steps and capture her. This isn’t a hunt, and Madison is not my oh-so-delicious prey.
I have to remember that.
“Mr. Blackthroat!” more reporters call. I throw up a hand in a wave, giving them the shot they’re jonesing for.
When I catch up to Madison, she’s caught her breath. “Next time I’ll wear running shoes,” she promises.
“Good plan.” We move inside and join the receiving line. I scan the large hall, clocking familiar faces mingled with the strangers.
A female hustles by in a cloud of hairspray and cloying perfume. I turn to Madison, breathing in citrus and nutmeg. As delicate as it is, her scent dominates all others. My lips hover at her hairline.
She blinks up at me.
You all right?
Her golden brown eyes search mine.
“Time to earn your ticket.” I jerk a chin at the crowd. “Benson Senior.” I quiz her.
“There, entering the ballroom,” she says although I can’t see how she sees anything, as short as she is. “Grey suit, toupee.”
“That’s a toupee?” The shock of white hair looks real.
“Yes.”
When we get close to Benson Senior, I’ll be able to scent the truth. In the meantime, I nod, accepting her judgment. She does her homework. She probably has a stack of research on hairpieces she compiled one handed while the stylists did her nails.
At the door, Jake is escorting a stooped gray-haired woman past my sister.
I duck my head to murmur in Madison’s ear, letting her scent wash over me while I have the pretense of testing her. “Who’s Jake with?”
“Dr. Jeanine Natale. Vice-President of the Blackthroat Foundation. Dr. Natale is a noted author and physicist. Her family are philanthropists who have always been a part of New York’s high society.”
“How about this asshole?” I ask as Billy finds his way to us.
“Mr. William White, Chief Operating Officer of Moon Co., graduated…” she trails off as he reaches us. He shakes my hand but has a frown firmly in place for Madison.
“Go on,” I prompt her.
“Graduated from Yale University in 2012, the same year you did. Original founding member of Moon Co. and prep school friend.”
“What’s this?” There’s enough scorn in Billy’s voice to strip the nail polish off Madi’s nails, but she doesn’t react.
I step between her and him. My wolf doesn’t want any other male close to Madison. “Testing my human computer. How’s it going?”
“Why did you bring her?” Billy’s nose twitches. I’ve seen him look at roadkill with less disgust.
“I just demonstrated why.” I keep my voice bland. I don’t have to explain myself to Billy. “This way.” I hover a hand at Madison’s back as we walk forward. Subtly staking claim. Billy’s eyes narrow at Madison’s back, but he gets the message. He looks down on all humans, he’s always been a prick like that.
But no one messes with Madison.
No one but me.
Madi
Billy White is an asshole. I keep walking, pretending like his glare doesn’t bother me. I need to focus on the job. I’m here to work, and nothing’s going to distract me-not my stupid high heels, which are killing me. I already have a blister, and I’ve been standing for all of ten minutes.
The Blackthroat Family Foundation Ball, or the BFFB, is held in a historic train station. The marble columns and soaring ceilings are decked in black, white, and silver decor. Once we pass the receiving line, we swan down a massive staircase towards the dining area and its sea of white dressed tables. Hundreds of silver gift bags are stacked at the registration station, which we completely bypassed.
This ball always had the Landhower kids buzzing. They’d brag about their parents’ seating placements, as if the ability to shell out a hundred thousand dollars for a ticket is some sort of noteworthy honor. It’s the event of the year, perfect for those who want to display all their wealth and finery.
And then there’s me, in a designer gown and heels that cost almost as much as my annual salary. That my boss paid for.
My boss who refuses to admit he’s not treating me like a normal employee. He’s made it clear I’m not his date-that would be laughable. But the way he offered his arm and protected me from the paparazzi was not very boss-like.
I hold my head high and ignore Billy White, who’s looking down his nose like I’m a piece of cat shit that came in on someone’s shoe. He doesn’t like that Blackthroat brought me. I’m a fake-not a blueblood like the rest of the people here. He knows I don’t belong on someone like Blackthroat’s arm.
You and me both, prick.
Blackthroat’s hand rests lightly on my back, guiding me forward, but I don’t make the mistake of looking up at him. That’s a sure fire way to break my focus. My Big Bad Boss looks like a billion bucks in his tuxedo. The man is gorgeous in a suit. In a tux-he’s lethal.
I keep my breathing steady and expression smooth until we reach the end of the receiving line. Ruby Blackthroat looks as stunning as she did as the cover model of Vogue. Her white and gold mermaid dress showcases her tall, willowy frame. She’s got the same dark hair and slashing eyebrows as Blackthroat. They’re obviously siblings.
“So glad you could come,” she croons to the guest before us, but when it’s our turn, she drops the hostess act and waves to an assistant who’s hovering nearby holding a set of index cards. “You’re giving the opening remarks, remember?” Ruby takes the cards and shoves them at her brother.
“I am?”
I get the feeling Blackthroat is screwing with her, but it’s hard to tell. I’m getting better at reading him, but he hides his thoughts and feelings so well.
“Brick!”
He takes the cards. “Why me? I’m the least personable member of this family.”
“Because I’m stuck in this line and-oh, would you just do it?” she snaps.
He cups her elbow. “I’m kidding,” he soothes. My heart does a weird flip-flop seeing the kinder gentler side of Blackthroat. “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.”
She exhales, possibly for the first time since she greeted Blackthroat. “Good. Hi, Billy.” She leans forward and cheek-kisses Billy. “And you must be Madison. Love the dress.”
“It’s Madi,” I say, without much hope of her or anyone learning my preferred name, since Blackthroat refuses to call me by it. “Thank you for getting me in with your stylist.”
“My pleasure. Will you make sure my brother’s on stage when I need him to be?”
“Of course,” I assure her, even though my confidence level with making sure Blackthroat does anything someone else wants of him is about five percent.
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here, Madi. Good thing I saved the plus one seat for you.” She smirks up at her brother.
Blackthroat remains blank-faced, refusing to give her the satisfaction of being right. I know that look well. It warms my heart to know Blackthroat turns it on his beloved sister as well as me.
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