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Leanne Leto doesn’t look like someone who’s dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic incident. If I hadn’t been told what she survived, I would never have guessed. That probably means she’s been through stuff before that hardened her up a little.
People can be good at burying their pain from others, but the better they are at doing that only means they have more of it, and they’ve gotten used to pushing it down.
Despite that, she doesn’t look like she’s a couple of years older than I am.
If I had to guess, I’d say she was maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight.
She’s also well dressed, and her hair is pinned back.
That’s all I can tell until I cross the reception area and open the door that leads out to the hall. I’m completely blind-sided by the difference it makes to see her in the flesh. The pretty, but obviously deeply wounded woman suddenly becomes real, and holy fucking hell, every cell in my body reacts to her presence as if she’s the one thing we’ve all been waiting for, for the last decade.
My skin prickles, my hairs stand on end, and my cock …
My cock is ready to tear right through my pants.
I tug the front of my shirt down over that area quickly.
She just started walking toward the door when I pulled it open, and she stopped as soon as she laid those big, dark eyes on me. Her full lips make a surprised ‘O’ shape before closing and forming a tentative smile.
Gods above, this woman is stunning.
Those big, dark eyes are so captivating.
I feel as if I’m about to be swallowed by their depths.
“Hi, I’m Leanne,” she introduces herself. “I’m here for …”
“The interview,” I finish for her, finally finding my voice.
Her cheeks color lightly as she nods.
She’s feeling vaguely aroused.
And a little nervous, and wary.
“Come in,” I tell her, moving to let her pass me.
My pants are painfully tight. There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to sit down behind my desk until my cock softens up, and I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.
I’ve just met a fated mate, and I was pretty sure I’d already met all of mates.
Having more than one isn’t exactly rare, but it is complicated.
Adding a beautiful, wounded Beta to the mix won’t be easy, but my arms are open wide.
She walks into the reception area, her grip tight on the handle of her purse.
“Take a seat,” I offer, gesturing to the sofa between the doors to my Alpha’s offices. “I’ll just check if they’re ready for you.”
She nods as she sits down.
I try to calm my racing heart as I open E.A.’s door and step into his office.
“She’s here,” I tell them.
Spencer stares at E.A. from where he’s standing in the corner of the room. “Last chance to do the right thing.”
“The right thing is not what you think it is,” E.A. says quietly.
