Page 24 of Stalked By the Wolf

Sebastian Doyle.

I open the next.

Sebastian Doyle.

A low hiss bursts from between my clenched teeth. Sebastian signed up to foster all four remaining cats.

“You let one guy fosterfourcats?” I demand. Two fully grown cats is usually our maximum, and only if the animals in question are a bonded pair.

“Yep. He said he has plenty of room. His references all checked out, and he has no other pets in the home.”

Yeah, if you don’t count his giant wolf.

“I’m gonna need you to do his twenty-four-hour check-in,” Susie adds brightly. “Just to make sure the kitties are settling in.”

My hands shake as I set down the stack of files, seething with indignation. Not only did Sebastian come to the shelter and interfere with my work; now I have to go see him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CLAIRE

My blood is boilingby the time I pull up at Sebastian’s house. The gate we took to reach his garage is locked, so I park my car at the base of the hill and start hoofing it up the long flight of stairs leading to his front door.

I’m sweaty and out of breath when I reach the top, which only stokes my ire. My hands curl into fists, and I pound on the door — not caring that I might piss off our “anonymous donor.”

Then the door flies open, and my angry diatribe dies on my lips.

Sebastian is standing in the doorway wearing only a pair of sweatpants. My gaze travels up his six-pack abs and chiseled pecs before coming to rest on his face. Something like pain flashes through his cobalt eyes, and that gaping hole in my chest opens even wider.

I thought I’d be able to keep it together if I juststayed angry, but seeing my mate standing before me makes my throat itch with tears.

I want to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. I want to cry and scream at him for what he did, and I also want him to scoop me up in his arms and carry me to his bed.

The distance between us makes my chest ache, and my body craves him with a level of need that verges on painful. Ihatethis hold he has over me.

Then my eyes snap back to his sweatpants, noting the cat hair clinging to the fabric. For some reason, I find the sight hopelessly endearing — even if he did decide to foster the cats just to get close to me.

“Hey, love,” he says, his voice slightly ragged.

“Good morning,” I manage, trying my best to remain professional despite the confusing mix of feelings swirling in my stomach. “I’ve just come to check on the cats.”

“They’re well-cared for, I can assure you. Kevin hasn’t moved from his sunning spot by the window.”

I narrow my eyes in a glare. How can he stand there and act so normal when my entire being aches for his touch?

“I’ll need to see for myself,” I say. “The twenty-four-hour check is required for all of our fosters to make sure the cats are adjusting to their new environment.”

Sadness flickers through his eyes, but he quickly masks it. “Very well.”

He steps aside to let me pass, and I try to ignore the delicious scent that lingers in his home. It’s leather andbergamot andSebastian, and my treacherous body thrums with need.

“This isn’t right,” I growl, my temper getting the best of me. “These cats have been through enough. You can’t justusethem to get to me. They deserve better than that.”

Sebastian lifts those perfect dark eyebrows, and my gaze inadvertently flicks to his lips. “I agree.”

“Did you think that by donating a ridiculous amount of money to the shelter that you’d somehow win me back?”

“That donation was meant to be anonymous,” he says cooly.

---