Page 9 of The Bookseller and the Alpha (Witch Twins #1)

Luc

Only part of my attention was on the video playback on the computer.

The rest was still locked onto Calypso. She’d hidden her face with her hair, but I’d seen a flush rise on her neck, sending her skin the colour of rose petals, and a whiff of her perfume rose into the air as it reacted with her heated skin.

I stepped closer. In the back of my mind I knew I was crowding her, but my body had developed a mind of its own.

It needed to be closer to her; to inhale her gorgeous scent.

It was light and floral. Something I didn’t know the name of but was now imprinted into my very DNA.

Her nimble fingers sped over the keyboard and then she moved her chair out of my direct line of sight (and sadly out of my reach) giving me an unobstructed view of the screen.

The Calypso on the screen had a smear of dirt on her cheek and loose curls of hair draped over the lapels of her coat as she stepped out of the front door, Pompy trotting beside her.

Her shoulders drooped. A surge of protectiveness flared in my chest. She looked tired.

In need of a good meal and an even better night’s sleep.

She turned, flicked back a lock of hair in a gesture that was already familiar, then pulled the door shut, before testing that the lock was secure.

After that she put her palm flat on the door, fingers spread in the classic pose.

There was a moment or two where nothing happened.

All I could hear was the thump of my own heart in my chest and Pompy’s soft snores.

Then blue light flared in a complex pattern against the wood, glowing brightly against the darkness of the early evening, before fading away.

She had set the wards. Bloody hell. Even without looking at her, I could feel Calypso’s gaze on my skin.

I turned to face her. A smirk played on her lips, and her eyes shone like green flame.

She was waiting for my apology, and I could see how much she was going to enjoy it.

I made a mistake. I could own it. “You were right,” I said, forcing my voice into the professional tone I used when delivering reports. “You set the wards.”

“Thank you.” Calypso kept her voice prim, but her smile was… naughty. The tip of her tongue darted out to touch her lip and a fresh pulse of lust shot straight to my cock.

I moved a couple of steps back and to the side till I bumped up against the spiral staircase that led to the next floor, trying to make the move look deliberate.

Yes, actually, I just wanted something to lean on.

Nothing to see here . The truth was that my whole body was shaking with need.

I needed to pull her out of that chair. I needed to press her full, soft breasts against my body.

I needed to plunge my tongue into her mouth; to taste her; to possess her.

YES , Beast demanded. He pushed at my shields. He wanted OUT. He wanted Caly.

No. I would not lose control. Clenching my hands into fists I forced the lust down. It was harder than I expected, and when the struggle was over my voice came out gruff.

“So, we have no visible signs of entry.”

Her smile dimmed at the brusqueness in my voice.

Then her eyes widened as she understood the implications.

She had primed her wards. And they did not go off.

I could see her intelligent brain working on the problem.

She couldn’t do magic but she had a degree in magical theory.

Our mate is clever . Beast’s mental voice was smug.

It should not have been possible for an intruder to get into the shop without any signs of forced entry.

“Who besides you can disable the wards?”

“Only Elie, because she set them.”

“No staff?”

“No, I run the shop alone, except for Saturdays, when I have another staff member for the busiest part of the day.”

No wonder she had dark circles under her eyes. Running a business with minimal help was hard work. Baby, that’s going to change . Beast rumbled his agreement.

“Was anything taken?”

She shrugged. “Look at this mess. How would I know?”

“Maybe that was the point. To hide whatever was taken.”

“The rare books of magical value are upstairs, under lock and key, and I checked them first thing. They’re all where they are supposed to be.”

“Can I see the rest of the footage please?” Calypso gave me a look I couldn’t interpret, then swung her chair back into place. I stayed where I was. Getting too close to her was dangerous. For me and for her.

She and I watched the whole night’s footage but found nothing.

About 1 a.m. a stray cat sat in the doorway for a while and groomed itself before continuing its early morning wander.

The lights in the window glowed cheerfully all night; the shop itself stayed dark.

No sign of forced entry or of the intruder who caused the damage.

“Again,” I snapped.

Calypso stood up and pointed me to the chair, her eyes sparking. I shook my head, but she just pointed again.

“Sit. I need to start cleaning up. You do your job and I’ll do mine. I can’t open again with the shop like this.”