Page 9 of Accidentally on Purr-pose

Professional distance, he commanded himself as his panther snarled in protest. Earn her trust first.

Luka appeared behind her, his green eyes widening as he took in the elaborate spread covering every inch of the polished table. "This looks incredible." His voice carried genuine appreciation. "Can I dig in?"

"Go right ahead," Izei replied, grateful for the distraction from his mate's proximity. "I made enough for a small army."

Freesia chose a seat that left an empty chair between them, her tactical awareness evident in the way she positioned herself with clear sight lines to both entrances. The careful distance should have been reassuring—proof that she understood the dangerous attraction crackling between them. Instead, it made his panther pace with frustration at being denied what belonged to him.

She began filling her plate with efficient movements, piling on portions that spoke of genuine hunger rather than polite appetite, and seeing her wanting to eat the food he'd prepared stirred something primitive in his chest. Izei forced himself to take smaller portions, more interested in watching her than eating.

She reached for her fork and began eating what he'd spent hours making, and every bite she took seemed to restore some of the vitality that months of survival had stolen. Color returned to her cheeks, and the tension in her shoulders gradually eased as her body recognized safety in the simple act of a shared meal.

Luka was already reaching for seconds, his appreciation evident in every enthusiastic bite. "I'm sorry," he said between forkfuls of roasted chicken, "but I haven't had real food in a long time."

The honest admission drew unexpected laughter from Izei's chest—a rich, genuine sound that seemed to surprise everyone at the table. "Don't apologize. I made this much food specifically for you both."

When Freesia looked up at the sound of his laughter, her blue eyes darkened with something that made his breath catch. Heat flared between them like struck flint, and for a heartbeat he saw past her careful composure to the woman beneath—exhausted, grieving, longing for something just out of reach.

She wanted him.

That knowledge made him almost reach across the table and claim what they both craved. But his hand gripped his fork with enough force to bend the metal as he fought the urge to abandon restraint and let the mate bond take control.

Not yet, he reminded himself firmly. She's not ready, and the situation isn't stable enough.

"Eat up," he managed, his voice rougher than intended. "There's plenty more in the kitchen."

Luka's expression shifted to something approaching gratitude. "I really appreciate this. And the protection you're offering." He gestured toward the reinforced windows. "This is the first place I've felt safe in a long time."

Freesia nodded in agreement, though she remained silent. Her careful reserve spoke volumes about the trust she wasn't yet ready to offer, and the walls she'd built to survive that wouldn't come down easily.

"I'm glad you find the accommodations suitable," Izei replied, meaning every word. "And I hope we can talk more after our meal. Discuss my protection plan and get to know each other better."

Something flickered across Freesia's features—wariness mixed with resignation. The prospect of spending more time in close proximity clearly unsettled her, but she finally nodded with the kind of royal composure that reminded him exactly who he was dealing with.

"That's probably a good idea," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "We need to be on the same page. Build a working relationship."

A working relationship.

The words should have been reassuring, proof that she understood the need for professional boundaries. Instead, they made his panther snarl with territorial fury. He wanted far more than a working relationship with his mate, wanted to build something that had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with the connection burning between them like wildfire.

But he simply nodded, swallowing the words that would only complicate an already impossible situation. Trust first. Everything else could wait until she felt safe enough to lower her guard.

As they continued eating in careful silence, Izei found himself cataloging details he had no business noticing. The unconscious grace in every gesture, even something as simple as reaching for water. The protective way she kept one hand near the satchel containing the Compact, never fully relaxing even in the safety of his fortress.

She was magnificent. Dangerous. Everything his panther had ever wanted in a mate. And completely, impossibly off-limits until he could prove himself worthy of the trust she wasn't ready to give him yet.

They finally finished eating their shared meal and Izei guided them toward the living area, the weight of unfinished conversations settling between them like gathering storm clouds. The spacious room soon welcomed them with rich leather furniture arranged around a stone fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows offering glimpses of manicured gardens beyond, and enough carefully positioned seating to accommodate his entire security team during strategic briefings.

Freesia and Luka moved together with the unconscious synchronization of people who'd learned to anticipate each other's movements through months of shared survival, and they settled onto the deep burgundy couch as naturally as breathing. Luka's protective instincts positioned him between her and the room's main entrance while Freesia positioned herself with clear sight lines to both exits.

The sight of their effortless partnership sent an unwelcome spike of territorial jealousy through Izei's chest. His panther snarled with frustrated possessiveness, demanding to know why another male sat so close to their mate, why she leaned toward Luka's warmth instead of seeking his own presence.

Because she doesn't trust you yet, he reminded himself, choosing the leather armchair across from them with deliberate care.

The distance between them felt like a chasm—close enough to study every micro-expression that crossed her face, but far enough to avoid the magnetic pull that threatened his legendary self-control.

Professional boundaries.

That's what she needed from him right now, not the primitive claiming instincts that made his hands clench against the chair's armrests whenever she moved closer to Luka.