Page 23 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

“Because I don’t know you either.” I push off the desk and step in, easy about it. “Fair’s fair, Ms. Vasquez.”

“It’s Mrs.” The correction is faint, automatic.

“Really?” I drawl. “You do realize I’ve got your paperwork.”

She catches up to it fast, understanding that I’ve seen the enrollment papers with no husband listed and a single name on every line. Color rises up her throat.

She closes the gap between us instead of retreating, which I don’t expect, and lowers her voice to a warning. “For all intents and purposes, I’m married. Remember that.”

“Sure.” I grin down at her.

I take her wrist before she can argue, gentle over the split knuckles, and tip the disinfectant onto a square of gauze. She hisses when it touches the broken skin, sucking air through her teeth.

So I blow on it.

I do it without thinking, an old reflex from years of Bella’s scraped knees, a soft breath across the sting to take the bite out. The second it’s done, I realize where I am, whose hand I’m holding, and I look up to apologize.

Jessa’s gone scarlet.

Her eyes are fixed on mine, her lips parted, her breath uneven. The pain isn’t what’s quickened her breath, and the wolf lifts its head, interested.

“Sorry.” I don’t sound it, and I keep hold of her hand.

“Just stop.” She tugs at her hand. “I can do it myself.”

“You’ll do it badly.” I tighten my grip carefully and reach for the bandage. “Hold still or we’ll be here all day.”

She makes a frustrated sound, and I hide my smile.

I wrap slowly. Her pulse beats hard under my fingers where they rest over her wrist, quick and light, and her breathing stays shallow the whole time. I glance up to find her watching my mouth. She looks away fast, color flaring higher. But I caught it, and so did the animal pacing behind my ribs.

She wants me. Her body’s got no talent for lying, even if she’d sooner walk into traffic than admit it.

I smooth down the last of the tape and don’t release her. “There. You’ll live.”

“Thanks,” she mutters, finally reclaiming her hand and tucking it against her chest.

I let the quiet stretch a moment, then nod toward the front of the building, where the sister-in-law’s car peeled out twenty minutes ago. “You seemed to know that woman, the mother with the two kids.”

“She’s my neighbor.” Jessa flexes her bandaged fingers, testing them. “Rachel.”

“Why’d you wade into a stranger’s family fight?”

Her chin comes up, and there’s iron in it. “Because I meant every word I said out there. If you didn’t give birth to a child, that child doesn’t belong to you.”

I tilt my head. “And if the mother’s unfit?”

She goes pale all at once and turns to me, her spine going rigid. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I hold my hands up. “It was a question.”

“Are you calling me an unfit mother?”

I stare at her, lost. “Why would you leap straight to that? Where’s the paranoia coming from?”

She hears herself, flinching at her own pitch, and presses her lips together hard before she answers.

“Sorry.” She rubs at the bridge of her nose. “I take these things personally.”