Page 6 of Stripe for the Picking (Paranormal Dating Agency #92)

FOUR

RYLAN

T he holographic console at Rylan's workstation cast blue light across his face as he swiped through the latest breach reports.

Forty hours remained before critical system compromise, and every simulation he'd run that morning ended with the same catastrophic result—total defense grid failure and unauthorized access to vital intel.

His tiger paced beneath his skin, agitated by the mounting pressure and his own growing desperation.

Ten years of commanding Nova Aurora's cybersecurity and global security divisions had never prepared him for an enemy this relentless and this adaptive.

Every countermeasure he deployed got shredded within hours, leaving their most sensitive military operations exposed like raw nerves.

Focus, he commanded himself, adjusting his uniform with military precision. Gerri's bringing the solution today. You must maintain control.

But control felt increasingly elusive as breach alerts multiplied across his screen. The hackers had found new vulnerabilities in sectors he'd considered impenetrable, turning his carefully constructed firewalls into digital tissue paper.

Suddenly, his tiger's senses flared—a subtle shift in the air that made every muscle coil with sudden awareness. His enhanced hearing caught the distinctive click of designer heels against polished floors, accompanied by lighter footsteps that somehow made his pulse quicken.

Rylan turned, and the world tilted on its axis.

The woman approaching his workstation moved with unconscious grace, her green sundress flowing around curves that made his mouth go dry.

Long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid chocolate, framing a face that belonged in Renaissance paintings—all soft lines and intelligent green eyes that sparkled with curiosity.

Holy hell.

His tiger rumbled approval so loudly he wondered if others could hear it. Every instinct screamed at him to move closer and to protect this vision of feminine perfection who somehow made the sterile Defense Nexus feel warm and alive.

Can't afford distractions right now, he reminded himself desperately, even as his body betrayed him with an unmistakable tug of desire. No matter how desirable she is.

But watching her navigate the complex environment with fascination rather than fear impressed him despite his reservations.

Her posture radiated relaxed confidence, alert without being anxious.

The holographic security grids and sleek architecture caught her attention without making her flinch or retreat—marking her as both capable and fearless.

Maybe she really is the answer I've been searching for. The miraculous mind that approaches problems from angles I can't see.

Gerri Wilder's red heels announced their arrival with authoritative clicks that echoed through the command center. Her presence commanded attention from every officer within fifty feet, though she seemed focused entirely on him.

"Commander Rylan Kaedor, meet your new... secret weapon." Gerri's gesture toward the stunning brunette carried layers of hidden meaning that made his tiger practically purr.

The beautiful woman stepped forward with diplomatic grace, extending her hand with a smile that hit him like a physical force.

"You can just call me Rylan," he managed, his voice rougher than intended.

"You can call me Wren," she replied, her eyes twinkling with humor. "Or secret weapon, whichever you prefer."

The joke surprised a laugh from him—the first genuine amusement he'd felt in weeks of mounting crisis. Her wit cut through his perpetual seriousness like bright sunlight through dark storm clouds.

Then their hands touched, and lightning struck deep inside Rylan's body.

Electric current shot up his arm and straight to his core, igniting every nerve ending with primal recognition. His tiger roared with triumphant awareness while his muscles contracted involuntarily, his heart rate spiking as if he'd been hit by plasma fire.

My fated mate.

The knowledge crashed over him with devastating certainty. This brilliant, beautiful woman whose touch made his entire world realign. She belonged to him as completely as he belonged to her.

No. This can't be happening. Not now.

He fought to maintain his controlled exterior while primal instinct clawed at his discipline. Thirty-nine hours to save Nova Aurora's defense and intelligence systems, and fate decided to throw his destined mate into the equation.

Control. Logic. Focus on the mission.

"I'm impressed by what I read in your file," he said, proud when his voice emerged steady. "Your credentials are extraordinary."

"I hope Gerri didn't send anything too incriminating." Her quick wit sparked something warm in his chest.

"Not at all." The words flowed easier than they should have, his usual professional mask slipping without permission. "Your intelligence, composure, and curiosity—everything I've witnessed confirms you're exactly the mind we need to counter these cyber threats."

Too forward. Too flirtatious. What the hell is wrong with you?

But something about her presence made pretense impossible. Around Wren, the Commander's mask felt suffocating—replaced by something natural and unguarded that should have terrified him.

Gerri's knowing smile sparkled with mischief. "I think this partnership is going to work out perfectly. My instincts about Wren being the answer to your needs were absolutely spot-on."

Panic flared in his chest. If Gerri mentioned matchmaking or fated mates in front of Wren, he'd never recover from the embarrassment. His tiger might recognize their connection, but Wren deserved the chance to discover it naturally.

Keep quiet about the Paranormal Dating Agency, he pleaded silently, catching Gerri's gaze.

The matchmaker's expression softened with understanding. "I trust Wren will be in excellent hands with you, Commander. But I really must return to Earth—business calls."

Relief flooded through him. "I'll ensure she's very well taken care of. I'll show Wren to her apartment on Defense Nexus grounds shortly."

"Perfect." Gerri's eyes sparkled with secrets as she turned to Wren. "Keep him in line, darling."

Then Gerri strode away, leaving him alone with the woman who'd just turned his carefully ordered world upside down. The air between him and Wren seemed to crackle with electricity. Rylan turned to face Wren fully, his military bearing intact despite the chaos she'd unleashed in him.

"Would you prefer to settle into your apartment first, or dive straight into the work?"

"Work," she replied without hesitation, her green eyes sparkling with determination. "I didn't travel through a wormhole to just admire the accommodations."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward—almost a smile.

Her eagerness to jump headfirst into saving Nova Aurora's systems sent satisfaction coursing through him.

Even though she was human and from Earth, completely unfamiliar with their technology, she radiated the fearlessness and adaptability he desperately needed.

Her poise suggested she thrived under pressure, and the confident way she'd handled the overwhelming alien environment hinted at someone who could complement his precision while anticipating threats he might miss.

Fate picked perfectly, he thought grudgingly. Even if I'm not ready to accept what that means yet.

Because accepting meant acknowledging that love—that Wren—could be something other than a dangerous weakness. And with thirty-eight hours until critical system failure, he couldn't afford any blind spots.

"Your workstation is here." He gestured to the sleek console directly adjacent to his own.

Wren raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing across her features. "Wow, we're practically sitting in each other's laps. Don't you trust me? Afraid I might accidentally burn down your precious Defense Nexus?"

Heat crept up his neck. Her quick wit left him fumbling for responses that felt clumsy compared to her effortless humor.

"It's not about trust," he said, the words coming out more formal than intended. "I thought you'd be more comfortable closer to me—easier to answer questions and collaborate effectively."

Smooth, Kaedor. Real smooth.

Internally, he was already regretting the proximity.

Having his fated mate this close every day, breathing in her intoxicating scent of lavender and something uniquely her, and watching the graceful way she moved—it would test every ounce of his legendary self-control.

His tiger purred approval at having her near, while his rational mind screamed warnings about maintaining professional boundaries.

Focus on the task at hand. Not on how her hair catches the holographic light. Not on the way her lips curve when she smiles.

Wren settled into her chair with fluid grace, her fingers already exploring the advanced interface.

The technology here was decades beyond Earth's capabilities, yet she adapted with the same confident curiosity she'd shown since arriving.

As she adjusted settings and familiarized herself with the holographic displays, Rylan found himself studying her profile—the determined set of her jaw and the way she unconsciously tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

His tiger rumbled contentment beneath his skin, recognizing home in her presence. The urge to claim, to protect, and to announce to every male in the building that she belonged to him, clawed at his discipline.

Professional. Keep it professional.

Logic warred with instinct as he watched her work. Fated mate? Yes, his tiger insisted with absolute certainty. Human? Obviously. Distraction? Potentially catastrophic. Duty? Non-negotiable.

But how long can I maintain this facade when every cell in my body recognizes her as mine?

Wren paused in her exploration of the console and turned to face him fully. Those perceptive green eyes seemed to see straight through his carefully maintained composure.

"Do I make you nervous, Commander?"

The question hit him like a physical jab. If only you knew, he thought desperately. If only she understood that she made him feel like a new recruit on his first day rather than a seasoned commander. That her presence turned his ordered world into beautiful chaos.

"No," he lied smoothly. "I'm just tense because we have thirty-eight hours until the hackers compromise our critical systems."

"Well then, we better stop wasting time and get to work."

Her no-nonsense attitude sent a spike of admiration through him. Direct, efficient, and focused—she matched his work ethic perfectly. No dramatics or demands for special treatment, just pure determination to solve the problem.

God, she's perfect.

The thought concerned him as much as it thrilled him. He was beginning to understand that Wren wasn't just what he needed to stop the cyber threats—she was everything he'd never known he wanted on a level that went far beyond professional.

"The cyber threats have been escalating for weeks," he explained, pulling up the latest breach reports on his console. "We're dealing with an organized syndicate—highly sophisticated and adaptive. Every countermeasure I deploy gets neutralized within hours. They're always one step ahead."

"Let me see the latest breach report."

Rylan transferred the data to her station, watching as she absorbed the complex information with laser focus. Within minutes, she was navigating the holographic interface like she'd worked here for years, her fingers dancing across controls with intuitive precision.

"They're using a variation of recursive encryption loops," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "Clever, but not unbreakable. Try this."

Her fingers flew across the interface, creating a countermeasure patch that was elegant in its simplicity—and completely beyond anything he'd considered. The solution addressed vulnerabilities from an angle he'd never thought to explore.

"Let's see if that holds them off for a while."

Rylan stared at the screen, then at her, genuine awe replacing his professional mask. In minutes, she'd accomplished what his team had struggled with for days. Her intellect, coupled with that fearless adaptability, might be the only thing capable of matching these attacks.

As he studied her—the way she absently adjusted her hair while concentrating, the curious gleam in her eyes as she explored the system architecture, and the confident set of her shoulders—his tiger rumbled with deep satisfaction.

Control. Maintain control.

But the pull was undeniable, growing stronger with each passing moment. Professional distance felt increasingly impossible when every fiber of his being recognized her as his.

"I should show you to your apartment now," he said, his voice husky. "We can check back later to see if your patch held."

They walked through the corridors of Defense Nexus toward the residential sector, maintaining careful distance that did nothing to diminish the electric awareness crackling between them.

Her apartment was on the west end of the sector—close enough to his own apartment that his tiger roared approval but far enough to maintain the illusion of propriety.

As they moved through the halls, Rylan's mind raced with calculations.

Her presence was vital—not just for the cyber threats, but for the Protocol Trials next week.

Her quick thinking and courage could tip the balance in his favor, finally earning him the promotion and recognition he'd worked toward for years.

She's changed everything, he admitted silently. And I have no idea how to handle what that means.