“I’m an art appraiser.”
This time there was a ring of truth to her words, but she didn’t elaborate and Seb didn’t press her for more information. They might have been mates, but they were still strangers who had met in highly unusual not to mention, highly dangerous circumstances. Even if Clara had nothing to do with Ortega and his men, Seb couldn’t blame her for being cautious around him.
As Clara navigated the car through the winding streets, Seb sat quietly, his mind swirling with thoughts. The small talk between them was light, skimming over the surface of deeper topics. Seb found himself carefully measuring his words, acutely aware of Clara’s reticence about her own reasons for being in the forest. Each seemed cautious not to reveal too much, yet unable to resist the pull of curiosity.
The apartment Clara drove them to was modest, tucked away in a quiet part of a nearby town. As they entered, Seb noted the scatterings of her belongings—books, clothes, a pair of shoes by the door. But it was evident she hadn’t lived there long. The apartment had no personal touches, no photographs or knickknacks that made the place her own. It spoke of a transient life, one that resonated with his own. The space was infused with her scent, however, and there was none other that he could detect, so Seb deduced that at least part of her story was true.
In the kitchen, they moved around each other with an awkward grace, fixing coffee. Seb was painfully aware of his limitations in sharing about himself. His role as a CIA officer cloaked him in layers of secrets and lies, a barrier he couldn’t easily break even for the magnetic pull of his mate.
As they reached for the sugar at the same time, their hands brushed against each other. The contact sent a jolt through Seb, a spark that ignited something deep within. Clara’s eyes met his, a flicker of surprise and something more intense reflected in them. In that fleeting touch, a current of unspoken understanding passed between them, a recognition of the connection that was there despite the walls they had put up.
The moment stretched, laden with unspoken questions and desires. Then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, Clara leaned up. Seb found himself leaning down at the same time, the space between them charged with anticipation. When their lips met, the kiss was tentative at first, but quickly deepened with a hunger that seemed to surprise them both. It was a moment of surrender, where caution and secrets faded into the background, overshadowed by the raw emotion of the present.
As they parted, the reality of their situation settled back around them like a cloak. But the kiss had changed something, blurring the lines between duty and desire, between the secrets they held and the truth they sought in each other’s eyes.
Seb’s heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and apprehension coursing through him. He was a man of secrets, bound by the oath of his profession, yet in that moment, he wished for nothing more than the freedom to explore the bond between them. Clara, too, seemed caught in the same tumult of emotions, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that spoke volumes.
The kiss they shared was a promise of what could be, a fleeting glimpse into a world where guards could be lowered, and truths could be shared. But for now, the future was uncertain, yet irrevocably altered by the connection that had sparked to life in that small kitchen under the cover of night.
Seb cleared his throat. “I really should go and check on my friends. I need to know that they’re safe, that they made it out of that forest uninjured.”
“Of course.” Clara took a step back and the intensity of the moment came to an end. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?”
Seb shook his head. “No, thanks, but our hotel is only a short stroll from here.”
Clara headed into the living room, grabbed a pen and piece of paper and scribbled down her cell phone number. She handed it to him, and Seb glanced at it, committing it to memory before sliding it into the pocket of his too-tight joggers. He glanced down at himself.
“I image I’ll get a few second glances in this outfit.”
Clara threw her head back and laughed. “I imagine you will.”
“I’ll get these back to you soon,” he said.
“There’s no rush.” She showed him to the door. “I hope your friends are okay.”
He nodded then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. He debated trying to kiss her on the lips again but didn’t trust himself not to give in to the moment and attempt to take things further. He didn’t know if Clara would have been open to anything more, but Seb couldn’t afford to find out—he needed toget to the safe house so that he could find out if Logan and Toby were safe. They would undoubtedly be worried about him, too.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said as he stepped back, searching her face for…anything. Those beautiful, delicious lips shaped into a smile that he knew he’d be picturing all night.
Clara nodded. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Chapter Two
Clara
The morning suncast a soft glow over the city as Clara made her way to work. Her thoughts, however, lingered on the events of the previous night, on the frenzied fight in the forest, and on Seb—her mate. She couldn’t shake off the vivid memory of his presence, the way he moved, the sound of his voice, and the undeniable pull she felt towards him.
Walking through the bustling streets, Clara was a study in contrasts. On the outside, she appeared composed, her steps measured, her expression focused. Yet, inside, a whirlwind of emotions and questions swirled. Her attraction to Seb was undeniable, a deep, instinctual pull that spoke of the mate bond they shared. She’d seen mate bonds at work before, of course, but that still hadn’t prepared her for the depth of emotions she felt. Her attraction to Seb was…profound. But alongside this attraction was a nagging sense of doubt. Seb’s story about being in the forest, and his vague explanation—none of it sat right with her. Her wolf had immediately sensed the untruths in his words, just as Clara saw the evasion in his gaze. What was he hiding? Why was he in the forest, really?
Mate lies, her wolf said sullenly.
Clara sighed, her mind replaying their brief but intense interaction—their conversation, the way their hands had brushed in the kitchen, the electric touch of his lips when they’d kissed. Every detail was etched in her memory, but so were the inconsistencies in his story. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how little she knew about him. Just who was Sebastian Dean?
As she approached her workplace, a nondescript building that blended seamlessly into the urban landscape, she forced herselfto focus on the day ahead. She had a briefing to attend, and responsibilities to fulfill. Yet, even as she mentally prepared for the day’s tasks, she couldn’t stop her thoughts drifting back to Seb.
Pushing open the door to the briefing room, Clara stepped inside, her professional demeanor firmly in place. But beneath the surface, her thoughts remained tumultuous, filled with questions and an undeniable curiosity about the mysterious man she had met in the forest. The man who, despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to. The man who fate had decided was her perfect match.
Clara stepped into the room, her heels clicking against the floor in a steady rhythm. The room was occupied by Rory, a wolf shifter she had worked alongside in Spain for several months, her two superiors, Lopez and Miller, and six other men whose faces were unfamiliar to her. Each of the strangers were tall and muscular, and she suspected from the way they carried themselves that they were shifters, too.
