Relief flooded through Camille so powerfully her hands shook. “It happens to everyone. Let me print you a fresh copy of the correct permit.”
She moved to the printer with quick efficiency, the machine humming to life as it produced the document Jake needed. The familiar smell of fresh toner and warm paper grounded her,reminding her that she could handle this world if she stopped doubting herself.
“Here you go,” she said, extending the permit with a smile.
Jake accepted it with a sheepish grin that transformed his weathered features. “You’re a lifesaver, miss. Most assistants would’ve just told me to wait for the boss or blamed it on someone else.”
The elevator chimed behind them, and Camille’s pulse quickened before she even turned around. Leander strode into the reception area with predatory grace, his green eyes immediately scanning the scene with protective intensity that made her breath catch.
“Jake.” His voice carried alpha authority that filled the space. “What’s the situation?”
“No situation at all, Mr. Drake.” Jake held up the freshly printed permit. “Your assistant here sorted out my screw-up. I brought the wrong paperwork to the job site—rookie mistake. She was gracious enough to print the correct permit and set me straight.”
Leander’s gaze shifted to Camille, and something warm and appreciative flickered in his expression. “Is that so? She is proving to be very invaluable around here.”
“Just doing my job,” she managed, though his praise made her feel lighter than air.
Jake gathered his things with renewed energy. “Better get to the site. We’ve already lost half the day thanks to my confusion. Thanks again, miss.”
The moment the elevator doors closed behind the contractor, Leander turned his full attention to Camille. The intensity of his focus made her acutely aware of everything—the way her cream blouse hugged her curves, the rapid beat of her pulse, and the scent of his cologne mixing with something wilder and more dangerous.
“That was smart thinking,” he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “Any of my previous assistants would have either missed that mistake completely or passed the problem off to someone else without trying to solve it.”
The compliment hit her differently than the polite appreciation she received at charity events. This felt earned, real, based on actual competence rather than social obligation.
When has anyone praised my work instead of my appearance or connections?
“How did lunch go?” she asked, then immediately regretted the question when his expression darkened. “I’m sorry I interrupted. I wish I could have caught the permit mix-up earlier so you didn’t have to leave.”
“It actually worked out perfectly.” His jaw tightened with suppressed anger. “I lost my appetite being around Damian.”
Something twisted in her stomach—part curiosity, part dread. Her parents’ enthusiasm for Damian suddenly felt more complicated when filtered through Leander’s obvious distaste.
“How do you know him exactly?” The question escaped.
Leander studied her face with uncomfortable intensity, as though weighing how much truth she could handle. “We’ve known each other since we were children. We’re part of the same pride.”
Camille blinked, confusion replacing curiosity. “Pride? Like... a group of friends?”
The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. When Leander finally spoke, his words hit her like a gut punch.
“Camille, I’m a lion shifter. So is Damian. I’m the Alpha of our pride—have been since my father was killed twelve years ago.”
The world tilted sideways. Her vision blurred at the edges as her brain struggled to process information that challenged everything she thought she knew about her reality. She learnedyears ago that shifters existed—she had read about them—but they were other people’s reality, not hers.
Leander is a lion shifter.
The man she had been inexplicably drawn to, whose presence made her pulse race and her carefully constructed walls crumble, wasn’t entirely human. And Damian—the man her parents wanted her to court—was the same.
Her knees buckled without warning. The marble floor rushed toward her, but strong arms caught her before she could fall. Leander’s hands were gentle but firm as he guided her to the leather couch in his office, his touch sending heat through her despite her shock.
“Breathe,” he commanded softly, his alpha authority wrapping around her like a protective blanket. “Just breathe, Camille.”
As she reoriented herself, Leander crouched in front of her with concern etched across his handsome features. His hands rested on her knees, the contact both grounding and electrifying.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just... I never expected...”
“You need to go home.” His voice brooked no argument. “Take the rest of the afternoon off and get some rest.”
