Page 49

Lila stops at the foot of the stairs leading to the pack house patio. She exhales lightly, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Hi.”

Goddess, that smile.

My gaze drags up to meet hers. “You look stunning, Lila.”

“Thanks.” She tilts her head, teasing. “You don’t clean up too bad yourself, sir.”

That damn word hits me like a punch to the gut because I have hated it for weeks.

Sir.

Not Alaric. Not even some snarky remark about me being a bastard. Just sir.

I know why she does it. She’s trying to keep the distance between us. Trying to shove us back into neat little boxes—boss and secretary, employer and employee.

But we both know that’s not what we are anymore. At least that’s not what has been running in my mind 24/7.

Last week changed everything.

Our kiss. The one in my office after I got too close to her. She was so damn beautiful it hurt to look at her at that moment. I didn’t plan to kiss her…it just happened. One second, I was brushing hair out of her face, the next, my mouth was on hers, and everything else fell away.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful.

It was desperate.

And fuck, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Then there’s me nearly tearing Julian apart for even touching her, let alone speaking to her.

All the way to buying her that dress. Placing that necklace around her neck. Pretending I didn’t want to devour her whole in it.

She knows it. And she’s fighting it.

“I hope I’m not too late.” Lila tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I had an incident at home that ran later than I expected.”

I don’t respond right away. I’m too distracted by the way her red-painted lips move, but then I catch something in her voice that makes my ears prick.

“What incident?” I ask, my voice lower now.

Her shoulders tense, so subtly that most people wouldn’t notice. It could be the evening breeze touching her shoulders or my question. My money is on the latter.

I see the flicker in her eyes before she blinks. “Nothing major. Just a leaking faucet.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Shouldn’t we go in now? They must all be waiting for you.”

A leaking faucet? That’s what made her twenty-three minutes late?

I don’t believe it.

But why would she lie? A boyfriend, maybe? Another man? Is she still hung up on Julian?

No. It can’t be Julian. I made sure of that. My men have been watching him. He hasn’t come near her since that night.

Still, unease lingers in the back of my mind.

“Of course,” I say, reaching for her. “Come here, wild one.”

The nickname rolls off my tongue naturally, and for once, she doesn’t fight me on it.