“Are you looking for a new job?” My voice is deadly now because the thought of losing her makes my wolf surge to the surface. He’s jealous. Possessive.
Very, very dangerous.
Regret flickers over Madison’s face, and my wolf thrashes beneath the surface. “No. Though I am keeping my options open.”
I get up from behind the desk and walk around to the front of it. I don’t trust myself to get close to her for fear I’ll snatch her up and never let go. Instead, I lean back on my desk and fold my arms. “Why?”
She lifts her shoulders, and the scent of her regret agitates me. Or is it pain? Either way, I can’t stand it. I want to do everything in the world to change it. “I’m screwing the boss.” She sounds sorry, like something sad but inevitable has happened. “This probably won’t end well for me.”
I narrow my eyes, not liking any of this. “That’s pretty fatalistic, isn’t it?” I beckon her to me, desperate to touch her, to have her scent closer, but still not trusting myself not to throw her over my shoulder and carry her home to mansion row. To tie her to my bed, mark her with my scent and keep her forever.
She comes as bidden, arms wrapped around her middle. I force myself to move slowly when I settle my hands on her waist, dislodging her hold of it.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
She blinks those long, curled lashes at me.
“I also don’t want to stop…” -It seems to crass and reductive to say fucking you
– “…this.”
She says nothing, just sways unsteadily on her feet, her gaze searching mine.
“What would it take to make this work for you?”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. She has that frightened look she gets right before she comes. But then it’s over. It passes. She shakes her head. “Nothing. I mean, this works for now.” She drops her gaze. “I’m just exploring options in case that changes.”
Fuck.
“You saw Eleanor Harrington, didn’t you? Did she offer you a job?”
“No. She left it open. I made it plain I wasn’t actively looking.”
“Do you know who she is, Madison?” The softness of my tone makes Madison go still. I’ve been debating telling Madison about this ever since Sully presented me with the information, but I wasn’t sure if it benefitted her. Leaving her in the dark isn’t a kindness, though.
“What do you mean?”
“I noticed her interest in you at the ball.” I pull her closer. “I also observed what I thought was a family resemblance.” It’s only a half-lie. I smelled the resemblance.
Madi’s brows drop. “What?”
“I asked Sully to look into it, and it seems I was right. She’s most likely your paternal grandmother. She secretly got your mother the job at Landhower Prep and funded your education there. She also ensured your admission to Princeton and-“
“No.” Madison cuts me off. “Wait. What are you talking about? You hired a PI? What is this?”
“Her son, Brett Harrington, was in college with your mother. They dated briefly, breaking up eight months before you were born.”
“Christ.” Madi’s face goes pale. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Tears brighten her eyes.
“Come here, beautiful.” I pull her against my body in an embrace. “I’m sorry it’s a shock. I was debating how to tell you.”
I sense her belly shudder like she’s holding in a sob. I drop my lips to her silky hair and cradle the side of her head to press it against my chest.
“I…hate that,” she sputters in typical Madi fashion, pushing away. When I release her, she merely repositions herself to lean against my body sideways, crossing her arms. “I hate everything about it.”
“You mad at me?”
“No, I’m just-” she paces away from me. “I just hate it.” She whirls and spreads her hands. “Why in the hell did she wait until now to make contact? Ugh!” She grimaces. “Don’t answer that. I’m sure I know.”
I cock my head, not certain what she thinks she knows.
“She was waiting to see how I turned out. Whether I was worthy to claim. Or something sick like that.” The tears never fell, and Madi’s already composed herself in that surprising way she has of quickly mastering her emotions. “And what about my dad?” She shakes her head. “I guess he’s the real asshole here.” She stares at me for a moment then visibly gathers herself. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem. Thanks for the information.”
“I’ll give you the file my PI put together.” I walk around my desk to pull the manila envelope from a drawer.
She takes it and spins on her high heel for the door.
“So you’re not quitting me for her?” I ask mildly as she reaches it.
She sends me a look over her shoulder that probably isn’t meant to look sexy but goes straight to my cock. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Good,” I mutter, but she’s already out the door, her spine straight, shoulders back as she departs.
My female may be human, but she’s as strong and resilient as they come.
Of course, she’s not my female.
As I walk around my desk, my wolf growls at that mental pronouncement. He wants her. Twenty-four hours a day he’s driving me in her direction. To mark her. To claim her. To keep her.
As impossible as it may be, it’s hard for me to deny the pull. The attraction isn’t just sexual, either. I can’t blame it on pheromones and my wolf. I find everything about Madison Evans fascinating. She has all the qualities of an alpha female-if only she were a wolf.
She’s capability-porn in motion. Brilliant. Well-spoken but sassy. She’s not dramatic or particularly manipulative, but she does manage to get her way. When she doesn’t, she handles it with more grace than anyone I’ve ever seen.
I’m falling in love with her.
I drop into my chair.
Fell. It’s already in motion. My heart’s in play.
My executive team is right. This problem with the assistant has gotten out of hand. Way out of hand.
Yet, I can’t find it in me to pull back.
Every cell in my body screams for me to just move forward. Claim the girl with her inferior genes. Make her mine, even though it could mean losing everything-my position as alpha, even my pack.
* * *
Madi
I compartmentalize for a few hours, focusing on the fires that need to be put out around the office, then I pick up the phone to call my mom.
Her last class ends at four, so she should be available to pick up. “Hi, sweetheart!” she exclaims, like she’s shocked that I called. A stab of guilt hits me for being so engulfed in my job that I haven’t called her at school in weeks. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I’m still at work. I had lunch with Eleanor Harrington today.”
“What?” The shock in my mom’s voice is all I need to confirm Brick’s suspicions. “I’m sorry, who did you say?”
“Eleanor Harrington. Do you know her?”
“Uh, well…I’ve met her once or twice. She’s one of the donors at Landhower.”
“Yes. I understand she was the donor who funded my education there.”
“Did she tell you that?” I sense a note of hysteria in my mom’s voice.
“No.” I don’t say any more. I know from all the books I’ve read on interrogation and negotiation, the less you say, the more power you hold.
“What did she tell you?”
“Who is she, Mom?”
There’s a pause. “What do you mean?”
“Who is Brett Harrington? What do I need to know here?”
“Maybe you should come over for dinner tonight.” My mom sounds defeated. “I can answer all your questions.”
“I can’t come tonight,” I snap. “I have the company holiday party. I need the answers now, Mom. Please. I really hate when I don’t have a full picture, especially when it comes to my own life.”
“It sounds like you already know, Madi. What do you want me to say?”
I fling my free hand in the air in exasperation. “Give me the abridged version. Just some concrete facts.”
“Okay.” She draws in an audible breath. “Brett Harrington is your dad. I met him at Oxford when I was there for my PhD. When I told him I was pregnant, he asked me to get an abortion. I refused, and we broke up. Eleanor flew out and paid me a visit. She offered me a large sum of money if I would end the pregnancy. I told her to go fuck herself. She got nasty-threatened to get me thrown out of Oxford through her contacts there. I decided if the Harrington’s were so eager not to be associated with us, I didn’t want any part of them. I called Brett-your sperm donor-and told him I’d miscarried, and he didn’t need to worry about the baby. He never followed up, but his mom wasn’t so easy to get rid of. So we came to an agreement.”
Nausea rolls over me again. “What was the agreement?”
“She paid off my student loans and gave me a lump sum in exchange for my signature on papers relinquishing all rights to any Harrington inheritance or paternity suits. I don’t know if it would actually hold up in a court of law, but I wanted nothing to do with that vile family after that. I figured we were better off without them.”
I blink back tears. “Yeah. Agreed. But you let her pay for my education?”
“I didn’t realize she was the one pulling strings at first. By the time I did, you were already a sophomore. You didn’t like it socially, but you were excelling so much academically, I couldn’t bear to pull you out. I talked to you about it, remember? You wanted to stay because you could take six AP classes a semester there. You loved the challenge.”
She’s right. I did. Academic success was a new game for me then. I loved pushing myself to see how far and fast I could go. “I remember.”
“I’ve debated telling you, but I wasn’t sure it would do anything but hurt you.”
“Yeah. I get that. Knowing does hurt.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I really am. They’re classist assholes. She has no right to contact you now. What-she waited to see how you turned out, and now that you’re a Princeton grad working on Wall Street, you’re good enough? That’s a steaming pile of bullshit, as far as I’m concerned.”
My mom doesn’t usually resort to cursing, and I suddenly want to hug her. The Harringtons’ assholery affected her far more than it has me. I was oblivious to the rejection, while she had to live with it and hide it from me all these years.
“It’s fine. But you’re right. That’s exactly the score.”
After a moment of silence, my mom asks, “What are you going to do?” The fact that she sounds scared-like she might lose me to these assholes-guts me.
“I’m going to tell her to go fuck herself,” I say although it’s more for my mom than for me.
My mom lets out an audible breath.
“I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, Madi.” She’s choked up. “I love you so much. I’m sorry if this hurt you.”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry it hurt you. I have to go, but let’s do dinner tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Bye, sweetie.”
Brick
I overheard Madi’s conversation with her mother and gave her space in case she needed to process things. At six, I summon her to bring my tux in from the closet. I had some foolish idea about changing in front of her-remembering how turned on she’d been that second week when she’d spilled water on me and walked in when I had my shirt off.
Screwing her in the office has taken the edge off, but it’s not the same as taking a female to bed. I don’t get to see her naked. There are things I want to do to her that take more time than a quickie stolen during work hours.
Fuck. Me.
She comes in wearing the dress she wore to the charity ball. Of course-it’s not like she has another gown. We’ve already established that. But its effect on me is immediate and painful.
“Oh, honey. You made a huge tactical error wearing that dress again.” I’ve taken off my jacket, tie, and dress shirt, so I’m standing in my undershirt. I eat up the way her gaze traces where my biceps pop out of the sleeves.
I expect a sassy response, but her expression flickers to doubt, and she freezes in place. “I did?”
I take the tuxedo bag from her and toss it on a chair. “You did.” I pick her up and sit her on my desk.
“Jesus, you are strong.” She grabs onto my arms and squeezes, like she’s testing the muscles. Same thing she did that day she pretended she was blotting the water from my abs.
“Uh huh.” I lower my head and trail my tongue lightly around the V of her window, delving between her perky breasts. “You left me with blue balls the last time you wore this, and I haven’t forgiven you for it.”
She spreads her thighs wide, encouraging me closer. “You haven’t?” Her voice is husky and sweet.
“No, Windows. Punishment is definitely in order.”
Her pupils dilate. Breath quickens. The scent of her arousal drugs me.
I drop my hands to her hips. “I don’t appreciate being teased, little girl. Not at all. So now you’re going to feel the sting of your boss’ ruler.”
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