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I lead her back to the ballroom where the band is playing and a few people are dancing. Instead of heading to my assigned table, I lead her straight to the dance floor. The need to hold this female in my arms is just too much for me.
“W-wait. What are we doing?” she asks. It’s the first time I’ve seen a touch of panic in her, and it surprises me.
I give her my usual asshole look of scorn. “Dancing. Ruby will freak out if people don’t get on the floor.”
“Okay, um…I’m freaking out because I don’t really know how to dance.”
“Ah.” I can’t help but smile because her admission is cute. “So thereissomething you’re not good at.”
We arrive on the floor, and I take her right hand in my left, placing my other palm on her back beneath her shoulder blades to guide her. “Put your hand on my shoulder,” I murmur.
“Sorry.” She quickly lifts the flailing other hand to the place it’s supposed to be. I start moving slowly to let her get used to being led. My wolf glories in having her close. Her scent is like a hit of a powerful drug.
“My gifts are, um, more mental than physical.”
“Not sure I agree there.” I didn’t mean to mutter that out loud. Or with innuendo. “All you have to do is follow my lead, Windows. I won’t let you fail.”
“Yes, but will you let mefall?” She surprises a laugh out of me, which unfortunately catches nearly everyone’s attention.
Fuck. Just what I need is half of Manhattan high society gossiping about me having an affair with my assistant. Is it an affair when you’re not married? Or is it just corporately unethical?
The rumor mill will run even hotter because a number of said high society members here are also wolves. Wolves who will not approve of their alpha dicking around with a human female when he should be busy finding his fated mate. The she-wolf who will continue the oldest and most undiluted bloodline in the country.
A tinge of iron reaches my nostrils and sends shockwaves of alarm through my wolf. I scan Madison for any injuries, but see none. The scent isn’t the blood of a woman’s period, either.
“Are you bleeding, Madison?”
She stumbles and looks down toward her feet. “What–did I get it on you?”
Ah. My wolf relaxes. Her shoes. “You have blisters.”
“So many,” she admits with a rueful smile.
“Not so smug now about ignoring my orders to not wear high heels.”
“What makes you think I was smug?”
“You enjoy crossing me.”
“What gave you that idea?” Her lips twitch up in a smile. I want to hate it. I do hate it. Because that smile fills my chest with warmth. Makes me want to kiss the red right off her pouty lips. I subtly draw her a little closer to my body, wanting more of her intoxicating scent up in my nostrils.
“Am I right?” I probe, ignoring my absurd attraction to this girl.
“What?”
“Do you enjoy crossing the Big Bad Boss?”
Her soft lips part on a gasp.
My dick punches out against my trousers. I want to make her gasp for better reasons.
“Oh, yes,” I say. “I’ve heard your little nickname for me.” Shifter hearing gives me the edge.
“I’m sure you’ve been called worse.”
“No apology?”
“Like you said. I enjoy crossing you.” Her gaze lands squarely on mine, and I feel a sense of triumph. The need to drag her off to a dark corner and ravish her overwhelms me.
