Page 65 of Omega's Fever

“You’re not going anywhere alone.” Kellen pushes off the doorframe of my bedroom, all six-foot-four of tattooed muscle moving with that predator’s grace that makes my pulse skip. “Not after the park.”

“You can’t just sit in my office all day.” I retrieve my tie, avoiding his gaze. The scent of him—indefinably alpha—fills the bedroom. Makes it hard to think. “Anne would have a coronary.”

“Then I’ll wait in the lobby.” He crosses his arms, biceps straining against his t-shirt. “Where I can see everyone coming and going.”

“Kellen—”

“This isn’t negotiable, Milo.”

The way he says my name sends heat pooling low in my belly. I’m starting to love how my body responds to him. Every cellseems magnetized to his presence. I can feel the absence of the suppressants already. I’m feeling better, if slightly queasy. But that’ll be the baby. Our baby.

I press a hand to my still-flat stomach, then drop it when I catch him watching. “Fine. But you’re staying in the car.”

He grins, making my heart beat faster. “We’ll see.”

Of course, he doesn’t stay in the car. By the time we reach the gleaming lobby, he’s already out and scanning the space like he’s mapping exits and calculating threats. The security guard takes one look at him, gaze darting to Kellen’s ankle monitor and reaches for his radio.

“He’s with me,” I say quickly, flashing my ID. “Just... visiting.”

The guard’s expression suggests what he thinks of someone like Kellen visiting prestigious law firms, but Kellen hasn’t been convicted of anything. Yet. The thought twists something uncomfortable in my chest.

“I’ll be right here,” Kellen says, settling into one of the leather chairs near the entrance. He frowns, picks up the Cosmo he’d already read and then drops it, selecting another. “Take your time.”

I make it three steps toward the elevator before Anne’s voice cuts through the lobby like a blade.

“Warren. My office. Now.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on her designer heels and marches back toward the executive elevator. I follow, catching Kellen’s eye as I pass. He gives me a small nod, scrutinizing every person who enters the building.

When we get to Anne’s office, she doesn’t bother sitting, just turns to face me with arms crossed.

“We’ve discussed this. I can’t have an ex-con in the building.”

The words land like a slap. “To be an ex-con, you have to be convicted first.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arches. “Semantics won’t save your career, Milo. Do you have any idea what people are saying? What clients are thinking when they see him lurking in our lobby like some kind of—”

“Bodyguard?” I interrupt, surprising myself with the steel in my voice. Something’s shifted inside me these past weeks. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it’s just exhaustion with playing by everyone else’s rules. “Because that’s what he’s doing. Protecting me from very real threats that this firm seems happy to ignore.”

“Protecting you.” Her laugh is razor-sharp. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Heat floods my face, but I don’t back down. I’ve already accepted I’m going to lose this job. Funny how freeing that realization is. “He insisted on coming. He’s not taking no for an answer.”

“Then make him.”

“You’re welcome to try.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Maybe you’ll have more luck than I have.”

Something flickers across her face—surprise, maybe, at quiet, eager-to-please Milo Warren finally showing spine. She studies me for a long moment, and I wonder if she can smell it on me. The changes. The claim that hovers just under my skin, waiting.

“Fine,” she says finally. “But if he’s going to be here, hide him. Find a free conference room. You can work in there.”

It’s a dismissal and a reprieve wrapped in one. I nod, already turning to leave when she adds, “And Milo? Whatever’s happening between you two, handle it. Quietly. The merger is too important for... distractions.”

The elevator ride back down feels endless. I catch a glimpse of myself in the elevator mirror. There’s color in my cheeks for the first time in weeks. I should have flushed the pills weeks ago.

Kellen is exactly where I left him. A group of junior associatesgives him a wide berth, whispering behind their hands. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, his attention locked on the entrance.

“You’re allowed upstairs,” I tell him. “You’re officially hiding.”