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He ruffled his dark hair, mussing it even more. “I’m a wolf. We run hot.”

He strode toward me, barefoot and bare-chested. The muscles in his chest and broad shoulders hinted at his physical strength, unraveling me a fraction more. The hard lines and contours continued down his abs, with a faint line of hair above the top of his shorts…

I forced my gaze upward, and then noticed the scars. Faint white lines marred the otherwise smooth tan skin. My fingers itched to reach out and soothe whatever pain they may have once caused. I curled my hands to my sides to prevent me from doing something completely unwarranted.

“Thanks for starting the fire.” He yawned, stretching both arms overhead, in a very arresting manner, revealing more scars on his side. “And the tea.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus. “Can you not do that?”

He glanced at me, eyes all innocent. “What? Yawn? Is it too loud?”

“No. That.” I motioned toward him in a vague, circular manner. “Being all…” How to finish that sentence? Mention how his near-naked, muscular body was ruffling me in ways that I hadn’t expected nor was prepared to face, at least not this early. “That.”

He laughed. It was the first time I’d heard him do so, and I—kind of liked it. “Too much skin for you?”

The mood shift confused me. I smoothed my hands over my sides. Focus. “It’s too early to be so chipper.”

A lopsided grin remained on his face as he stepped into the kitchen and took over the tea preparation. “My wolf is happy. Very happy.” He sighed. “And it’s rubbing off on me. I had some very good dreams.”

I ground my teeth, arching a brow. “Let me guess. Was it about me sneaking up to kill you?”

He simply grinned. “You haven’t yet.”

“Yet,” I repeated. “That’s because I haven’t run the verifications.” I edged my chin up a notch.

“I’d like to think that means we’ve made some progress in understanding each other. And that makes a cynical old wolf somewhat—hopeful.”

Ugh, was he going to disarm me at every possible chance? “Conan Lockridge,” I said, “if that is indeed who you are. Just because we haven’t tried to kill each other yet doesn’t mean we won’t.”

He fixed a steady gaze on me, and his amber eyes flickered gold. “I have zero intention of ever hurting you, Ruby.” A pause. “Ever.”

The intensity of his gaze seized my next snarky comment, and it fluttered away.

“Let’s at least have breakfast first.” He handed me a mug of fragrant mint tea.

I took it.

Conan delayed me for a good half hour with a breakfast of eggs and more of the bread from last night. His mood remained light throughout the meal, continuing to confuse me. Would his wolf’s good mood affect him that much?

How connected were they?

Those weren’t the questions I was supposed to be asking. No more delaying. I had food and rest. My next step was to ensure this was even the wolf I’d been sent here to resolve, which was the Order’s preferred term used in documentation to indicate they were to be killed by a field operative.

“Thank you for breakfast, but I have to ensure you are who you say you are.”

His brows moved closer together. “Meaning?”

“That you’re not some”—I motioned around the room—“decoy. Planted here to distract me from the real alpha of this pack.”

Conan’s expression froze for about three seconds flat as he watched me with surprise in his eyes. Then he let out a laugh.

“What is so funny?”

“You.” He shook his head. “A decoy?”

“Yes.” I straightened in my chair and smoothed my hand over my lap.

“You’re serious?”