She knew who he was. She’d seen him in the company directory, in a photo in Derek’s office, and in the absolutelyabsurdamount of research she’d done before accepting this job. Derek Moonstone might be the billionaire CEO of TalkToMe, but his brother Adrian was the Alpha of the Moonstone Pack.
And she was currently pawing at his pectorals like a cat kneading a blanket.
“Sorry!” She snatched her hands back so fast she nearly lost her balance again. Those steadying hands tightened on her upper arms, and she became acutely aware of exactly how much bigger he was than her. She was small—five-three on a good day, and her combat boots added maybe an inch—but Adrian Moonstone made her feel positively minuscule. He had to be at least six-four, with shoulders that seemed to fill the entire hallway and arms that could probably bench press a Toyota.
“Are you all right?” His brow furrowed, dark hair falling across his forehead in a way that should have been messy but somehow looked artfully disheveled. Like he’d just rolled out of bed. Like someone had been running their fingers through it?—
Stop. Stop it right now.
“I’m fine,” she squeaked. Her brain, usually a reliable and orderly place filled with algorithms and logic, had turned into a scrambled mess of static. The only thought that managed to form with any clarity washe smells really, really good. It was like the scent of the forest after a rainstorm, mixed with the rich, dark aroma of coffee and something warm and spicy that she couldn’t place but which made her want to burrow closer. Which was insane. She didn’t burrow. She barely even hugged people.
His golden-brown eyes, which had returned to their normal shade, swept over her in a slow, deliberate assessment. From her damp pink hair to the cartoon robot on her shirt, down her ripped jeans to the steel toes of her boots. His gaze wasn’t lecherous, but it was… thorough, and an entirely unexpected wave of heat washed over her, starting low in her belly and spreading outward like ripples in a pond, making the air suddenly feel thick, charged with an electricity that crackled between them.
The hallway lights seemed to dim in comparison to the golden glow in his eyes, and for a disorienting moment, she forgot how to breathe. She’d been stared at before but never like this. Never with a gaze that seemed to see past the carefully constructed barriers to look directly at the woman underneath. A woman who suddenly felt very, very exposed.
Chapter Two
Fuck, who is this female, Adrian wondered.
Her scent had hit him before she did. Something sweet. Floral, but not cloying—more like wildflowers after rain, with an undercurrent of something electric. Alive. His wolf perked up, attention sharpening from lazy alertness to full predatory focus in the space of a heartbeat.
Then a small body collided with his chest, and instinct took over.
His hands shot out, catching her before she could stumble backward. The woman was tiny—barely reaching his chest, even in those ridiculous pink boots. His fingers wrapped almost entirely around her upper arms, and beneath the soft skin he could feel the delicate architecture of bone and muscle. Fragile. Human.Mine to protect?—
He clamped down on that thought so hard his jaw ached.
“Whoa. Easy there.”
She blinked up at him, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Enormous grey eyes magnified by thick-framed glasses. Pink hair—pink, like cotton candy, like something that belongedin a children’s fairy tale—hanging damp against flushed cheeks. A cropped t-shirt that exposed a sliver of pale stomach.
And that scent. It wrapped around him like silk, burrowing into his brain, making his wolf pace restlessly behind his ribs.
“Sorry!” She stumbled as she yanked her hands back from his chest and he automatically tightened his grip to hold her upright even as he fought back the urge to demand she keep her hands on him.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she squeaked as he took in her appearance. Fuck, she was tiny. Not only short but slender, with delicate hands and small hips and a fragile frame that made his protective instincts roar to life inside him. A human female. In the Moonstone headquarters. At this hour.
His wolf rumbled its approval.Ours.The word was a possessive growl in his mind.
He ignored it. Mostly.
“I’m Adrian Moonstone,” he said, keeping his voice as calm and non-threatening as possible. He didn’t let go of her arms. The feel of that silky skin under his hands was too addictive.
“I’m Harper. Bailey. Harper Bailey,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze. She was looking at a point somewhere over his shoulder, her entire body radiating a tension that had nothing to do with their near collision. “I work here. In security. Computer security, not like, building security. I don’t stand by doors or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with standing by doors! Very important job. I just… I work with computers.”
Harper.The name fit her. Soft and melodic. His wolf repeated it, rolling it around like a treasure, like a claim.Harper.
No.
“I know who you are,” he said gruffly, his voice scratching against his throat like sandpaper. He forced himself to release her arms and stepped back, putting space between them. Necessary space. Safe space. “Derek’s mentioned you. You’re the new cybersecurity genius who’s been living in the office.”
“I don’t live here.” A defensive note crept into her voice. “I have an apartment. With furniture and everything. A bed. I just… haven’t spent much time there.”
A bed.That one word in her soft, flustered voice sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated lust straight through him. An image flashed in his mind of this tiny female, all pale skin and pink hair, tangled in sheets that smelled like her. His sheets. With him in the bed. With her?—
He slammed the door on that mental image with a force that made his head throb. This was Derek’s employee. A human. A skittish, clearly overwhelmed human who probably slept with firewalls to keep her safe at night. What was wrong with him?
