“Oh, come on. That’s unfair.”
“I said ‘reformed.’”
Bridget watched this exchange without moving.
I stepped closer to her. I saw her nostrils flare and her pupils dilate as my scent intensified. She was wearing too much descenter for me to sense her reaction, but the visual cues were more than enough to make hope flare brighter in my chest.
I reached out a hand, slowly, palm up. Bridget stared as if it were a wild animal. “I won’t bite. I promise.”
She cautiously placed her small hand in mine. I pulled her wrist up to my nose and inhaled. There it was, that faint trace of flowers and honey. My heart rate ramped up. I could feel her own racing pulse when I pressed my lips to the thin skin of her wrist.
“What you’re feeling, that pull, I feel it too,” I said. My voice was almost a growl.
“You do?” Her eyes were nearly black.
“You’re intoxicating.”
She withdrew her hand from mine and clasped both of hers together. They twisted together so furiously, they might never come apart again. Her deep breath was ominous. “We can’t… date.”
Disappointment, the crushing kind that I usually only associated with losing a major, hit me square in the chest. Gabriel’s sympathy in the bond didn’t help much.
“Why not, carrissima? If you are worried about me, you should not be. I like you very much, and I want to get to know you, too. Even if I do not want to get to know you inquitethe same way as him.” Gabriel gave her an encouraging smile.
“That’s not… I mean, that is something I would worry about, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a huge conflict of interest.” Her voice was becoming brisk and businesslike again. “It’s completely unethical to… date a subject.”
“Is that your only concern?” I asked. “Because the study won’t last forever. And I’m willing to wait.”
Bridget swallowed. “I honestly don’t know. This is the first time I’ve reacted like this to someone.” Her gaze darted briefly to the door. “But I know we can’t even entertain the possibility right now.”
Did she not realize what we might have? Even without sensing her full perfume, I could tell we were a scent match — the kind of match that didn’t just fall into your lap. I checkedthe impulse to show her just how much our connection could blossom. To take her in my arms and purr for her again. To fall on my knees and beg.
I would never force myself on her. Instead, I sat back on the paper-covered table.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” I said instead, and I was happy I managed to actually sound sorry. “That was not my intention.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry that things are—” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We should probably not… interact anymore.”
“Of course.” My ego might never recover, but I wouldn’t show it.
“If you have questions, Dr. Manalo will still be an excellent resource.” She was backing toward the door.
“Sure,” I said.
“Have a great, um, day.” Bridget left the room, and I wondered if it was the last time I’d ever see her.
Gabriel’s arms wrapped around me from behind. I could feel his own disappointment in the bond. “Do not worry, amore mio. She will come around.”
For the first time, I wouldn’t bet on myself for a victory.
Chapter 12 - Nathan
If I had thought my obsession with Bridget was a problem before the gala, it was nothing compared to the aftermath.
Even Victor had noticed, which said a lot because he usually failed to notice dishes piled in the sink.
“Are you sleeping at all?” he asked me one morning, ten days after the incident, while I yawned over a cup of coffee in the living room. “No offense, but you look terrible.”
“I’m fine. Just stressed with work.”
