Page 6 of Furry Equations

No. He couldn’t think like that. She didn’t know what they were to each other. He needed to focus on her safety, not the mating bond humming between them like a live wire.

“It’s nothing.” She tried to turn back toward the smoldering lab. “My research?—“

“Can wait.” He steered her firmly toward the exit, trying to ignore how every point of contact between them sent electricity racing through his veins. “Hospital first.”

“But—“

“Not negotiable, Dr. Grant.”

She squared her shoulders, chin lifting in defiance. The fire in her eyes made his wolf rumble with approval. “I don’t take orders from?—“

“Your new boss? The man who owns this building you nearly burned down? The person currently preventing you from running back into a potentially hazardous situation?”

Her lips twitched. “I see your reputation for being bossy wasn’t exaggerated. The internet says you once fired someone for bringing you the wrong type of pen.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He guided her toward the elevator, trying to ignore how perfectly she fit against his side. “It wasn’t the wrong type of pen. He clicked it repeatedly during a board meeting.”

“So you didn’t fire him?”

“I promoted him to our Antarctica research station.”

She laughed, a bright, musical sound that made his chest tighten. “Remind me never to annoy you with office supplies.”

“My car’s in the garage.”

“I can drive myself.”

“You have a concussion.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re swaying.”

“That’s...” She frowned. “Okay, that’s actually a valid point. But so are you. Swaying, I mean. Like a really tall, handsome tree. In a very nice suit.” She poked his chest. “Is this Armani? It feels like Armani. I know these things because my mother keeps trying to set me up with fashion designers. Did you know there are seventeen different types of suit lapels? Because I do, and I wish I didn’t.”

The drive to Mount Sinai proved torturous. Every red light lasted an eternity. Every bump in the road made him tense, wondering if it jarred her injuries. The wolf part of him wanted to howl at the universe for daring to hurt his mate. The human part struggled to maintain professional distance.

“The formula wasn’t supposed to do that,” Natalie murmured, breaking the silence. “I mean, technically it wasn’t supposed to do anything except enhance natural compatibility markers, but definitely not...” She waved vaguely at the singed edges of her lab coat. “Though I suppose explosion-proof labcoats would be a good invention. Note to self: explosion-proof lab coats.”

FOUR

Marcus’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What exactly were you working on?”

“A serum to help people find their perfect match.” She gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Ironic, right? Brilliant scientist can decode genetic compatibility but can’t manage her own love life. My last date tried to explain quantum physics using noodle metaphors. Noodles!” She slumped against the window. “I haven’t eaten Italian food since.”

The mating bond tugged at his chest. If she only knew.

“My mother would love you,” she continued, words slightly slurred. “She’s tried everything to find me the perfect man. Last month, she hired a matchmaker to evaluate my genetic compatibility with a barista. Did you know you can determine romantic potential through coffee preferences? I don’t, but she seemed very convinced.”

She turned to look at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You have very nice eyes. Like storm clouds, but sexy storm clouds. Is that weird? That’s probably weird. But they’re also kind. You try to look all stern and CEO-ish, but your eyes give you away.” She squinted. “Also, there are still three of you, which is both concerning and intriguing from a scientific perspective.”

Definitely a concussion.

“You should smile more,” she added. “Not that you don’t look good not smiling. You do. Very good. Unfairly good. But when you smiled earlier, it was like...” She made an explosion gesture with her hands. “Boom. But not like my lab boom. A good boom.”

Despite his concern, Marcus found himself fighting a grin. “A good boom?”

“Mh-mm. The kind that makes otherwise intelligent women forget basic chemical equations.” She gasped. “Oh no. Did I say that out loud?”

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