“Fine,” I said, my voice cold. “We should make arrangements, then.”
“Oh, Dimitri!” My mother’s smile was triumphant. “I want this to be grand. So why don’t we make the announcement for the engagement at your Alpha ceremony? It’s a month’s time, which would give us ample time to prepare for both events simultaneously.But in the meantime, Selene will move into the mansion so that you two can start getting to know each other.”
“That’s fine.” I leaned forward and stood, picking up my bag and suit jacket.
As I was about to leave, my mother held me back and smiled. “You’re making the right choice, darling.” She kissed my cheek. “Your father chose wrong, and look where it got him—estranged from his pack, his legacy in ruins. You’re smarter. Stronger. And the pack will see that.”
I forced a smile her way, and with a curt nod at Edmund—my eyes catching his in a tangled glare that mixed defiance with the uneasy certainty he’d already glimpsed the raw ache I felt for Isabella—I left the living room.
Damn my plans to have a shower and head straight to bed. Sleep evaded me. I’d expected to feel differently after saying yes to marrying Selene Ashworth. Dutiful. Like I was finally stepping into the role I was born for.
Instead, I felt like I was drowning.
The thought of marrying her made me want to punch my fist through the wall.
My wolf prowled beneath my skin, agitated, snarling at the cage I’d locked us both in. One month until the engagement. One month until you tie yourself to a woman you don’t want.
At 2 a.m., I was roaming the halls of the mansion, a glass of scotch in one hand, trying to dull the restlessness inside of me. Alcohol wasn’t helping. Sleep had vanished. But burying myself in work was always a welcome distraction.
I went into my study, sank into my chair, and pulled up some files on my laptop. The file that popped up was Isabella’s presentation—her report on the company’s expansion projections. Clean layout, concise data, flawless delivery as always. I stared at the screen longer than necessary, tracing the neat alignment of her notes, and remembering the precision in her words.
And just like that, my thoughts circled back to her.
I recalled the ways she’d looked earlier.
Flustered. The hitch in her breath, the pulse fluttering at her throat. Eyes wide with need. My thoughts wandered to her lips. Her small, lush lips, coated in pink lip gloss that smelled like vanilla.
In that moment, I let my imagination run wild.
I kissed her. Her lips were as soft as I’d imagined, moving slowly, tentatively, against mine while I fought to stay in control—to not lose it completely. But restraint only lasted so long. I gripped her hips, pulling her flush against me, deepening the kiss until she was gasping for air. And even then, I couldn’t let her go. Because something in me knew—once I had a taste of Isabella, I’d never be able to let her go.
My hand moved to the shorts I had on, and just as I dipped my hand into my pants to wrap around my cock and torture myself with thoughts of what Isabella tasted like, the door to my study opened.
And without needing to see her face, I knew it was her.
Isabella.
Chapter Three
Isabella’s POV
I couldn’t sleep.
I’d been tossing and turning for hours, staring at the ceiling of my small room while my mind refused to quiet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—Dimitri leaning over me in his office, dark eyes intense, his scent filling my lungs and eroding every shred of common sense I possessed.
I’d replayed that moment a hundred times since returning to the mansion four hours ago. The way his hand had wrapped around my wrist, thumb pressing against my racing pulse. The deliberate slowness with which he’d pulled the pin from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. The way his forehead had pressed to mine, his breath hot against my lips.
And the words he’d said…
“I don’t care about anything other than what you taste like.”
God. My entire body flushed at the memory.
What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away? If he’d closed that final breath of distance and kissed me the way every cell in my body had begged him to?
That was the second time Dimitri and I had found ourselves in a compromising situation.
Well, compromising might be too strong a word. The first time wasn’t much of anything—at least, not to him. I think I was the only one feeling something.
