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Chapter Eighteen
The last thing Nikoneeded with his head already full of so much shit was to find Alison’s scent lingering in the air outside the rooms he’d assigned to Zee.
They were directly across from his rooms—he wondered if she’d figured that out yet, and how she’d react.
He’d planned on getting that out of the way, after he’d apologized for how he’d acted a few minutes earlier, of course.
But now he had to figure out what Alison had said to Zee. The strength of her scent layer here was too intense for her just to have shown Zee to her rooms. They’d talked, and for more than a minute or two.
Maybe it was about Liam, he told himself, trying to be optimistic.
It didn’t take. He’d never been anything but a cynical bastard anyway.
He went to open the door and walk in, but made himself stop and knock. This might be his territory, but while she was a guest in his home, there were certain limits and guidelines he had to accept. With any number of others, he might not have given a damn, but Zee wasn’t anybody else.
Zee opened it—halfway. She kept her body planted in the doorway so he couldn’t get past without either shoving her aside or picking her up and moving her.
He wasn’t about to do the first, and the second, even if he was tempted, wasn’t going to happen either, not when she gave him a cool look that had her green eyes glinting like ice.
“I need to speak with you,” he said softly.
Her lashes lowered briefly and he wondered what she and Alison had discussed, wondered if that had anything to do with her sudden coolness, or if it was all because of what had happened outside with Shale. He had no idea what was going on inside her head. There had been a time when he could all but read her every last thought.
That time had passed and it was his own damn fault.
Finally, her lids lifted and she met his gaze.
She’d never had trouble doing that, even back then. She’d always seemed so quiet, borderline shy, although he’d known it was more reserve than shyness. But she’d never backed down from his gaze, had even held his father’s with far more ease than any young Therian should be able to.
Now that he was older and more experienced himself, he could sense the dominance she’d always kept hidden all those years ago. She’d only grown stronger, but still, she kept that part of herself choked off, stifling so much of who she was.
It was a wonder she hadn’t gone mad.
“Are you going to talk or just stare at me?” she asked bluntly.
Coming from anybody else, that defiant challenge would have pissed him off.
Coming from Zee... well, it fired his blood, alright. Fired it in so many ways, he couldn’t even think straight and he was hard-pressed not to pull her against him and show her who was the more dominant Therian.
“Staring at you, Zee, has never been a hardship. But I’m here to talk.” The echo of voices drifted down the hall and he glanced in that direction before looking back at her. “In your room... please?”
She lingered long enough to make sure he was aware of how much she wanted to tell him no, then stepped back and walked away, leaving the door open. That she hadn’t invited him in wasn’t lost on him.
Closing the door behind him, he glanced around and saw that somebody had brought her overnight bag in. There were also several outfits on the bed—he’d contacted Boone and arranged for them to be purchased so she’d have more options.
The apology he needed to make stuck in his throat and he focused on the clothes. “They should fit. I wanted you to have options in case you decided to stay more than a few days.”
She stared at him from across the room with unblinking eyes.
“I hope they work for you,” he said, feeling foolish now. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“I don’t expect to need them.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If this is what you needed to discuss, you can go now.”
Irritation rose inside and he slammed it down.
He was so used to the respect that came from being who he was—first as the Prime’s son and next in line, and then for the duties he’d taken on once he was made his father’s second-in-command. In recent months, the respect had been granted him once he’d assumed the mantle of Prime, and when he and his men had hunted down his father’s killers.
People respected him or they feared him. That was simply how it was.
