Hell, she really needed to get her shit together. Needed to remind herself just why she was refusing him. In fact, she spent most of her morning at work trying to do just that, but he blew that out of the water when another gift arrived from him. Not anything romantic or expensive or corny. No. It was a Dead Fred pen holder. If you stabbed the red chunk of silicone rubber that was shaped like a dead body, it would hold the pen right there just like that.

Clearly he’d remembered her little quirk of always losing pens, and she knew this would sit nicely near her hallway phone at home. Nick’s note had suggested that she could pretend the rubber body was him and get out all her anger by stabbing the pen holder over and over. She did. It was pretty therapeutic. Kent also had a go at it, pretending it was his boyfriend’s mother. Again, Nick had made her laugh. Idiot. She had then received a text message from him while on her break:

Missing me?

Though she had promised herself she would never, ever, ever reply to his texts and encourage what she should consider annoying behavior, she had found herself responding:

Sadly, yes, my aim seems to be off lately—either that or I need a new rifle.

Then she had waited in anticipation for a response—irritated about the whole “anticipation” part but unable to help it. She’d soon received one:

I’d ask how you’re doing and if you’ve been busy today, but these new binoculars work great—a “must-have” for all intense investigators.

And, once again, she was fighting a smile. Once again, she failed. What further irritated her was that when he turned up at the salon at lunchtime, she was pleased to see him.

Apparently, so was Paisley, because she was immediately at his side, trailing along as he made his way to Shaya. “Are you here to book an appointment, sir, or were you hoping to—”

Nick looked at Paisley. “I’m not here to get my hair done. I’m Shaya’s—”

“Boyfriend,” blurted Shaya before Nick could use the term “mate” and, in turn, reveal that she wasn’t totally human. After her grumbling last night about him not stating that she was his mate, he would undoubtedly have been clear this time.

Paisley’s surprised gaze shot to Shaya. “Boyfriend?”

If she had said friend, it would have pissed Nick off. “Boyfriend” would placate him and prevent him from saying more. Forcing a casual smile, she nodded. “Nick, what are you doing here?”

Picking up that Shaya was hiding her shifter blood from her colleague, Nick dropped the issue. He came close and began toying with her hair. “Have lunch with me.”

It hadn’t been a request or an invitation—it had been a soft command. “I can’t, I have a client coming in now.”

“I’ll wait. I can be very patient when it comes to getting what I want.”

She knew he was talking about more than just lunch. Agitated that both she and her wolf found his persistence and determination attractive, Shaya almost growled. It was one thing for him to give her a ride to work, or to cook her a meal, or to buy her gifts. It was completely different to go somewhere with him—this might not be a date, but it was close enough to count. “Nick, I don’t think—”

Nick placed a finger against her mouth. He’d anticipated that she would resist, and he understood why. But he couldn’t win her trust if he didn’t get opportunities to prove that he was trustworthy. That meant them spending time together. “Shay, you need to eat. I need to eat. Eating together makes perfect sense.”

The tricky a**hole made it sound so simple and innocent. This was the thing about Nick: he wasn’t overbearing, oppressive, and tyrannical like a lot of alphas. He mostly expressed and exercised his dominance in a subtle, smooth way. He led with words and influences, projecting a calm assurance that he would get his own way and didn’t need to raise his voice or browbeat anyone in order to get it. The power radiating from him also warned that he was indeed capable of taking care of anyone who refused to do as he’d asked.

She wished she could say that his power and his subtle dominance wasn’t a turn-on, but it damn well was. It promised safety, security, and sexual satisfaction she’d never before experienced. His tone might have been reassuring, but his mischievous expression was anything but. “Kent might not like it if I—”

Her friend and boss waved a hand dismissively. “I’m totally fine with it. No need to worry.” Traitor.

Satisfied, Nick nodded at Kent and then turned back to Shaya. “I’ll be waiting on the chair over by the reception desk. When you’re done, we can leave.”

He was gone before Shaya could say anything else. The entire time she worked, he watched her. Watched her with eyes that missed absolutely nothing—eyes that hid nothing of his need for her. For once, Paisley wasn’t hovering over her while she worked. That would have been a good thing if Paisley wasn’t instead spending her time flirting with Nick. But Shaya wasn’t surprised by the blonde’s behavior. Nick’s quiet confidence, total self-assuredness, raw magnetism, and calm assertiveness tangled together to create a package that would appeal to any female.

In the past, Shaya had been with dominant male wolves, but their dominance didn’t even come near to equaling Nick’s level. Also, they had been nothing like him. Whenever there had been a problem, it had never been their fault—oh no, it had always been someone else’s fault. Dominant wolves could be like that, too proud and egotistical to ever admit to any weakness. But apologizing wasn’t really weak, was it? It took strength to admit to having been wrong, to admit to having made a mistake. And Nick was strong enough, man enough, and adult enough to be responsible for his own actions, to accept blame and to apologize. And he had.

Similarly, her past partners had tried to bully her into giving them their own way. Shaya might be a submissive wolf, but she wasn’t weak-minded, and she had a backbone as steely as—or even steelier than—any dominant wolf. Rather than respecting that and treating her as their equal, those partners had felt that her being submissive meant that she shouldn’t have her own mind, and they had tried to domineer her.

Nick, on the other hand, was totally different. Sure he expected things to go his own way and he expected to be obeyed, but he didn’t become angry with her when she resisted. Instead, he coaxed her and subtly exercised his will—accepting her wishes while still working to get his own way, not being put off whatsoever by her resistance. He gave her the space to be her own person. She hadn’t expected that.

The second she was done with her client, Nick was on his feet. Then, of course, her sixty-two-year-old client noticed him. “Is this your man?” Vivien chuckled and gave Shaya a knowing smile. “I didn’t think they made them like that anymore. Someone that masculine will make any woman feel feminine. Look at those broad shoulders and that devilishly handsome face. You’re lucky. But then, so is he. I hope you intend to treat her right,” Vivien said to him as she went to the reception desk to pay. “She’s a special girl.” Nick’s smile had the woman blushing.

“I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I have to have her. I won’t stop hounding her until she’s all mine.”

Vivien turned to Shaya, smiling, and forced a tip into her hand. “Oh, I like him. If I was forty years younger…” She sighed dreamily as she walked out, making Nick grin.

“I mean it, you know,” Nick said to Shaya quietly when she came close. “I won’t stop all this until I have you.”

Her voice was low and strained. “You can’t make up for what you did. You can’t fix it.” She was surprised when his grin didn’t falter.

“Prove it.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t fight me on trying to fix it. Show me it makes no difference.” He held out his hand, but whereas with anyone else it might have been an invitation, with Nick it was a challenge. Shaya had never been one to back down from a challenge. Besides, what harm could it do to have lunch with the guy she wanted with every fiber of her being and who could get her horny with just his very presence? She was so f**ked.

You wish you were being f**ked, teased that daring part of her.

Now’s not the time for your shit, she responded sharply.

Hesitantly she placed her hand in his, and she received a smile filled with approval and pride as he interlaced their fingers. She would bet he could get people to do anything just to receive that rewarding smile. After Kent handed her purse to her, Nick led her to his Mercedes and opened the passenger door. Just then she hesitated, wondering if allowing him to make them spend time together was really worth her pride at not turning down a challenge. She was effectively helping him with his cause to wriggle his way into her life.

The sensation of a thumb brushing over her chin snapped her out of her thoughts. Nick’s expression was gentle, but there was no room for compromise when he spoke.

“In the car, baby.”

A shiver wracked her body at the natural dominance in his tone. Making it worse, he skimmed his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply, and followed it up with a lick that almost had her knees buckling. But she had to make him believe his efforts were making no difference, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true—she had to make him think that so he would leave sooner rather than later, because he would leave. Knowing her legs weren’t going to hold her up much longer, she slid onto the passenger seat. He gave her another of those rewarding smiles.

They drove in a companionable silence, although occasionally he would look over at her and wait for her to meet his gaze as though he wanted to make sure her mind wasn’t elsewhere. It surprised her that although Nick had a strong, imposing personality and could be quite intense, she didn’t find his presence suffocating. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was trying so hard to keep him at a distance, Shaya might have felt relaxed around him.

Arriving at the diner, Nick possessively shackled her wrist with his hand and kept her to his side as they strolled toward the entrance. The physical contact served to further uplift his wolf’s typically dark mood. She gave him an odd look and tested the strength of his hold. When his grip didn’t slacken, she sighed in surrender—as if indulging him was the easier thing to do in this instance. It was.

Once they had placed their orders with the waitress, Shaya spoke. “What did you do with your morning?”

Nick sat back in his seat opposite her and folded his arms across his chest. “First Derren and I went for a run in our wolf forms through the woods on the edge of town. After that we took Bruce for a walk in the local park. Then we had some fun losing the two wolves that the Nazi has following us.”

Inwardly, Shaya shook her head in wonder at how even when he sat, he maintained a powerful stance—head up, chest out, gut sucked in, feet wide apart. Then what he’d said penetrated, and her eyes widened. “He has people following you?”

Nick shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a stranger on his territory. He wanted to know what I was doing here.” He saw no need to worry her with talk about the game preserve. As long as the humans believed she was one of them, she was safe.

“Maybe he’s worried you’ll help the rebels, organize them and make them into a proper pack. Will you?”

“No. I told you: you’re more important to me than being in a pack.”

“You expect me to believe that you don’t miss being Alpha? That you don’t miss your old territory and your family and friends? Your mom and sister have come to visit, but your brother’s still back there.”

Nick raised a hand. “Three things. One, I never wanted to be Alpha. Two, my family is important to me, but so are you. Three, I don’t have friends.”

She double-blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, you don’t have friends?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“Then what’s Derren?”

“A pain in my ass. I told you, I don’t like company—except for yours, obviously.” He truly did enjoy being around her. His wolf, too, enjoyed it, even to the extent that he relaxed slightly when she was around.

A shifter who didn’t like company…Yeah, that was definitely a new one. “You do know that’s weird, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I was never what you’d call social. But when I came out of juvie…I just didn’t feel like I could relate to other people. Derren, sure. But the others…they spent their teenage years going on dates, attending proms, and sneaking out to parties. I spent those years trying to stay alive in prison.”

Her wolf growled at that idea, not liking it any more than Shaya did. He had spoken so matter-of-factly—there was no sense of him feeling sorry for himself, and that just made the whole thing even more heart-wrenching for her. “I’ve heard stories about what those places are like. Is it as bad as the stories say?”

“Shifter juvie centers are inverted communities where the mayors are sick-minded prison guards who have taken your rights away and have total control of your life. But it’s not just them you have to worry about. There’s what you might call a ‘prisoner code’—break that, and you can be killed by your own kind. Fighting becomes a survival tool. The center that I went to…it wasn’t interested in rehabilitating us, wasn’t aiming to help us become well-adjusted adults. All it did was breed anger and hate and a hunger for vengeance. On the other hand, it’s a place that will teach you how to be street-smart, how to survive in the worst circumstances.” He gave her a grim smile. “Like I said, I don’t have pretty stories to tell you.”