Page 34 of The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart

My body's definitely not listening to the demands of my mind. What is happening to me?

Get a grip. Yes, a grip. Like, on myself.

And that's precisely what I do. "The first drawer."

If Graham feels or notices my retreat, he doesn't comment.

Or care.

But I can't deny that he keeps me as close as I keep him. And that makes no sense. But then again, not much does lately.

He pours us a glass of wine. He opens the food containers and takes a fork, diving into the near-raw steak. His moans seem to only be for the satisfaction of making me cringe or pissing me off or simply to mock me. There's definitely nothing remotely erotic about his groans.

I check through the containers, looking for something to eat. Once I go through three containers whose contents don't make me happy, I begin to accept the fact that I won't be eating tonight. I'm not interested in a white shark fillet or beef kidneys.

"There's pizza on the bottom of the bag," Graham says with a wink. "It's what you usually order for lunch when at work."

"How do you know that?" I demand.

"The company pays for it," he replies with a shrug. "I make it my business to know everything that's going on in the company."

"Which is why this hack must really bother you," I retort.

Graham turns rigid. His eyes darken.

Is it me or did the light in the room dim? The shadows have certainly become more prominent.

"It does," he says with a low voice. His previous lightness is all gone now. "So, Cassidy. Ready to start talking about how we can kick out the radicals' asses and get our life back on track?"

"You're the boss. The way I see it, you tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I reply before taking a bite of my pizza.

"If only it was that easy," he says, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"I'm guessing that our first order of business is locating the leak," I say, wanting to get back on track before my insides melt. He nods. "We will also need to review the footage."

"Which is why I set you up in my office," he confirms and sets down his fork. "I hope you're enjoying this weekend. It's the last one you'll have off because we won't rest until we bring down the radicals."

"If being stalked by my boss is your idea of a free weekend, you seriously need to reconsider your employment policy," I tell him dryly, needing to lighten the mood.

"Sure I do. As soon as I find myself a new employee. Might be a hard thing to do since you're so competent. But if you prefer my attention to go to someone else, all you need to do is say the word," he teases.

A pang of jealousy squeezes my stomach, but I refuse to acknowledge it. I'm sure nothing good can come from it.

"The way it looks now, I have to make the best of this situation," I tell him seriously.

What does it mean, though?

"I still have a company to run," he says, his voice turning serious again. "During the working hours, you will resume your duties and use the time to keep a closer eye on your content analysts as well as software engineers. I will attend meetings and make sure to keep the human government happy."

"What about outside those hours?" I ask, raising my brow in challenge though I don't know what I'm challenging him about.

"Outside those hours, you and I will get very comfortable with each other," he replies, the corners of his mouth lifting. "We will work in my office, my home, and even your home if necessary. I hope you don't have a boyfriend because you're going to see more of me than you would of him."

The double meaning of his words makes my cheeks flush.

He winks. "Who am I kidding? I hope you don't have a boyfriend because, if you do, I'd have to rip him to pieces."

An unexpected bubble of happiness bursts from within my heart, my panties going as damp as a woman can get.

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