“You ever sleep with them?”I tip my chin toward the staircase.
“Used to.In the Arctic.Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
“I snore.They voted me out.”
“What’s the real answer?”
“They found something I haven’t.”
The way he says it—shoulders relaxed, gaze level, as if he isn’t standing outside the circle with his nose pressed to the glass—he wants the world to think nothing can touch him.
It’s all bullshit.
“Come on.”He grabs our empty plates.“I’ll show you the guest house.”
My nerves regroup as we step outside.Rain drizzles in misty sheets, and the cold wind pushes against us with salty breath.
Wolf grabs a flashlight and leads us along a paved path, the beam cutting through the dark.
Tucked beneath the evergreens, the guest house comes into view, close enough to the mansion to feel like part of the compound.The cozy two-story cottage matches its stone counterpart with accented wood, glass, and soft amber light.
He unlocks the door and flicks on a lamp.
It’s warm.Lived-in.Not overly fancy like the main house, but comfortable with a leather couch, open kitchen, and fire crackling in the wood stove.
Shouldering my backpack, I step inside and toe off my boots.
“The locks around here are solid.”Wolf shows me the keypad on the door and gives me the passcode.“The bedrooms are up there.”He motions toward the staircase.“Separate bathrooms, in case you’re worried about accidental defilement.”
“What aboutintentionaldefilement?”
“Say that again, but slower.”His eyes darken.
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
“Could’ve sworn I heard the mating call of a dove.”He arches a brow.“What?Didn’t say I would accept it.”
“The answer is no.”
“What was the question?”
I brush past him and take the stairs two at a time.Peeking into each doorway, I choose the room less lived-in and drop my bag on the bed.
When I spin back around, I come face-to-chest with the intoxicating scent of leather and tobacco.My nose bounces off a hard pectoral, and I swallow a gasp.
Christ, he’s overwhelming, taking up space, and sucking all the oxygen.
What does he want?
Shit, did I pick the wrong room?
“You’re not sleeping here, right?”I crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“You want me to?”
“No,” I say too fast.
