Of course, said occupant of his thoughts would rather leave him hanging out to dry than accept the desire pulsing between them. And it was. She could deny it all she liked, but his wolf senses still picked it up. The moment she was around him, his wolf wanted to start a firework party with Kalinda as the star—on her hands and knees.
To be honest, Romano did wonder why his wolf reacted so heavily to her.
He was tempted to shift near her to see how his wolf reacted, but if he learned anything from watching Dominic, it was that having a mate chosen before she even had a chance to understand could cause a ton of issues.
Granted, if things called for it, that’s exactly what Romano would do.
Of course, he could be jumping the gun with all of this, but he doubted it. For whatever the reason or cause, Kalinda was his, and he’d make sure she knew it.
For now, she stood in the middle of his home fit to cause a tornado right in his living room. He smiled at her just because he couldn’t keep it at bay and he knew it riled her up.
“It’s been four hours. Four. How are my things in your house? Why are they here?”
He could probably explain he’d thought to make her comfortable by having some of her own items in a new space during a dangerous situation, but instead …
“Why not?”
If a woman could scream silently, Kalinda did.
She warmed up the space, filled it. He’d never been one for a lot of things to clutter the space. He’d kept his living room to a simple couch and recliner in the same matching chocolate and his large flat screen mounted to the wall. The kitchen, though stocked with stainless steel appliances and an island, wasn’t used very often.
His bedroom got all the attention, but he doubted she’d like to hear him talk about that.
Instead, in black yoga pants that hugged her curves like he wanted to and a scrunchy, white long-sleeved top, she curled her toes into the carpet and put her hands on her hips.
Red. Her toenails were brilliant red, a flag in front of a bull, and it was the only “unprofessional” part about her. Her hair was still pulled back in the severe braid, and he wondered how the strands would look released. Hell, he wanted to know how Kalinda would look released, unchained from her need to control and run everything.
If he asked her, she’d probably give him a one-finger salute or tell him to take a flying leap. Maybe if he got her really relaxed, she’d do it for him. He wanted to grip those strands.
Wait … no. That was odd. He wanted her, sure, but it was never to the point of complete distraction. She was talking, and he refocused on her.
“Can you be serious for just one minute?” She raised a brow. “I get it. You’re the consummate jokester and don’t take life seriously, but I take mine seriously, and I want answers to my questions.”
“You misunderstand my joking,” he protested.
“Oh? How so?”
“I take you very seriously, Kalinda. I take any threat to your life as a threat to mine. Don’t think I don’t take everything about you seriously.”
“What’s my mother’s name?”
That caught him off guard. “What?”
She smiled pretty she-wolf style, full of sharp canines, if she’d had them. That was hot. Her lips were full and plump. He could imagine them in places, and that image was enough to nearly bring him to his knees. It was real, her naked, dark nipples hard, her slim waist flaring into rounded hips, and her legs open to show her pretty—
Dammit.
What was wrong with him? It was like he could see the vision superimposing on the world around him. He could smell desire in the air, both his and Kalinda’s, but he could scent her agitation too. The agitation brought his attention back.
“I asked you what my mother’s name was.”
He narrowed his eyes. Whenever he tried to have a serious conversation with her, she batted him away and walked off. That could be his fault because he usually started out by going into his default mode: heavy-handed flirting. Hell, it worked with literally every other woman he’d ever met, but not Kalinda. “I don’t know.”
“What is my favorite color?”
“Red?”
She looked down at her toes. “Nice try, but no. Okay, what do I like to eat?”
