“I don’t want to disappoint you by leaving early.” The admission slipped out, revealing more vulnerability than she intended.
“You could never disappoint me.” The words carried absolute conviction. “Your health comes first. Always.”
The fierce protectiveness in his voice made something flutter in her chest—dangerous and warm and completely unwelcome.
“I should be fine to walk home?—”
“No.” He stood with fluid grace. “You’re unsteady on your feet, and I’m not letting you navigate the city alone. I’m taking you home.”
The alpha command in his voice should have sparked her usual rebellion against male dominance. Instead, it made her feel cherished in a way she had never experienced. Carter had never shown this kind of protective concern.
Ten minutes later, they sat in the back of a yellow cab as Manhattan blurred past the windows. Leander’s presence filled the small space, his protective energy a tangible force that made her hyperaware of every breath and every accidental brush of their arms.
The St. James building soon rose before them like a monument to old money and established power. Leander helped her out of the cab despite her protests and guided her gently inside the old building. Once they were finally in the elevator, Leander stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body and see the faint scar along his collarbone where his shirt collar gaped.
A scar from what? Fighting? Protecting his pride?
Her parents’ absence when they reached the penthouse felt like a small mercy. She couldn’t imagine explaining Leander’s presence to them, especially not when she was still reeling from his revelation about being a lion shifter.
“I can stay for a while,” he offered, his green eyes searching her face. “Make sure you’re settled.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, though the words felt hollow. “I’m just going to rest. You probably have important work to finish.”
He hesitated at the door, something unspoken passing between them. “I’ll check on you later tonight.”
The promise sent warmth spiraling through her chest. After he left, Camille sank onto her cream-colored sofa and stared at the ceiling, her mind spinning with impossible truths.
Lion shifters. Alpha. Pride.
The words circled her thoughts, each repetition making the impossible reality more concrete. Leander—the man whosemere presence made her pulse quicken—was a predator in the most literal sense. And Damian, the polished suitor her parents championed, shared that same dangerous nature.
Her phone rang, making her jump. Damian’s name flashed on the screen, and her stomach twisted with a combination of dread and guilt. She stared at the device for three rings before reluctantly swiping to answer.
“Hello, Damian.”
“Hi, Camille.” His voice carried that same calculated charm she remembered from the auction, but now it felt different—layered with predatory undertones she couldn’t ignore. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I hope you don’t mind me calling.”
“Not at all,” she lied smoothly, her socialite training kicking in despite her internal chaos. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m hearing your voice.” The line felt rehearsed, too polished to be genuine. “I was hoping we could have dinner tonight. Somewhere intimate where we can really talk.”
The word ‘intimate’ made her skin crawl. Every fiber of her being screamed warnings about Damian that she couldn’t rationally explain.
“I’m so sorry, but I’m feeling under the weather today.” The excuse tumbled out with surprising ease. “I had to leave work early.”
A pause stretched across the line, long enough to feel deliberate. “Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Just exhaustion. Starting a new job is more demanding than I expected.”
“Ah yes, your little assistant position.” Something cold slipped into his tone. “I have to admit, I was surprised to hear you’d taken employment with Leander Drake. Seems beneath someone of your caliber.”
The casual dismissal of her ambitions sparked immediate irritation.Little assistant position?As if her dreams and professional aspirations were merely amusing hobbies rather than genuine desires.
“I find the work very fulfilling,” she said carefully. “Architecture and design have always fascinated me.”
“Of course they have.” His agreement felt patronizing rather than supportive. “Well, perhaps tomorrow evening then? I insist on taking you somewhere special.”
The word ‘insist’ grated against her nerves. She had spent her entire life having men insist on things for her benefit, and the familiar pattern made her want to rebel in ways that would shock her parents.
