Page 48

“Well, you knew he wouldn’t be, you foolish creature,” Wolfe reasoned, opening the bedside table drawer to find—not surprising in the least—a mess of condoms and a half-empty bottle of lubricant.

Want him.

“In time.” Wolfe meandered over to the dresser, on which the offensive bottle of sandalwood aftershave was sitting.

He considered for a brief moment tossing it in the trash.

But such an act, if noticed, would surely scare the human more than anything.

Best to tackle the topic of suitable colognes later, really.

Frightened.

Wolfe froze, fingers just brushing the glass bottle. “Excuse me?”

You’re frightened.

Wolfe scoffed, turning on his heel to inspect the contents of the doctor’s closet. He wasn’t frightened. He was never frightened; it wasn’t an emotion with which he was even remotely familiar. Lack of fear was one of the defining characteristics of his…special condition, in point of fact.

He was simply being cautious, getting the lay of the land before he approached.

And he was right to be concerned, wasn’t he?

It was a complicated matter, how best to approach someone to offer immortality when it came with the condition of being bonded forever to someone who didn’t quite feel things the way others did.

Someone who was possibly unable to offer true love and affection.

He could lie, of course. Easy enough to do. But there would eventually be a fallout, and that would be annoying to deal with. A bonded pair was supposed to be able to feel each other’s emotions, or lack thereof. Wolfe wouldn’t be able to fake it, not with his future mate.

And really, it was good he was doing a little digging first, wasn’t it? Because this humble abode simply would not do. The two-bedroom hovel might be enough for the doctor on his own, but the closet size alone was reason enough to invest in something grander.

He stood in the dismal closet, toying with the neckline of one of the button-downs hanging there, indulging himself by brushing his nose against the fabric. There it was, that wonderful scent: wisteria.

Wolfe’s cock twitched as he inhaled deeply. It was a new, strange side effect, ever since he’d first laid eyes on his mate in the flesh. He was always on the edge of arousal, like some foolhardy teen.

It was surprisingly irritating. Lust had always been easy enough for him to ignore before, when it didn’t suit his purposes.

He could be celibate for long stretches of time without feeling like he was missing anything.

But here he was considering unzipping his suit pants and stroking himself to completion, layering his own scent all over the good doctor’s clothes.

Staking his claim.

He wouldn’t, of course. He wasn’t some wandering pervert. But the temptation was there.

Which was reason enough to leave the bedroom before he did something to inconvenience himself. Like shatter that godforsaken aftershave all over the carpet (carpet everywhere, yet another reason to change locations).

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he left it where it was.

It was sure to be Tobias, checking in again on Wolfe’s progress bringing Johann home.

Wolfe would have to make an unpleasant phone call sooner rather than later, but it was hard to focus on that when he had his tantalizing human puzzle to work out first.

He almost wished Tobias would follow on his heels after all. It would be incredibly satisfying to wring his head right off his neck, just for all the annoyance he’d caused Wolfe with his little “check-ins.”

He reluctantly released his hold on Dr. Monroe’s sweater, stepping out of the closet and taking a deep breath. He was tenser than he should be, less controlled than he liked. He might not be frightened like his beast so foolishly accused, but he was losing his patience with the slow approach.

Should that concern him, seeing as how it had been less than a week?

Unlikely. Wolfe’s unerring self-control hadn’t failed him yet, not since he was a child. Others may not always agree with his choices, but they were his choices, each of them.

Wolfe smoothed his suit jacket lapels and made his way into the kitchen.

The refrigerator was once again pathetically stocked with mostly takeout containers past their prime, as it had been when he checked in a few days ago, but that seemed fitting enough for an overworked ICU doctor.

It wasn’t like proper diet was a subject worth addressing, not when what constituted essential intake for Dr. Monroe was about to change quite drastically.

As he closed the refrigerator door, Wolfe’s attention caught on the wall next to it. There was a calendar hanging there. One he’d somehow missed last time.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the entry for the next day, written in red ink, like a blood-tinged invitation. “Well, well. it looks like our dear doctor has an appointment tomorrow. Tell me, would you like to see our mate up close and personal again?”

For the first time in days, his beast purred inside him.