Page 6 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Fake Girlfriend

I followed her in, my eyes scanning the room. "It's not messy. It's alive. You can see the passion in every detail."

She tossed her large bag and keys on the couch and glanced over her shoulder. "You're just saying that to be polite."

"I don't say things I don't mean," I replied, my voice firm. "Your work is impressive, Sasha. You have a unique vision."

She didn't respond, but I could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Sasha gathered the piles of fabric and papers on the couch and stacked them in a corner. "You can wait here while I pack up my things."

She disappeared into the bedroom, and I heard the sound of drawers opening and closing as well as the heavy thud of something against the wood floorboards. Probably a suitcase, I figured.

I wandered over to the sketches pinned to the wall, studying the intricate designs. Each one was bold, daring, and unlike anything I'd seen in the XMGH line. No wonder Margot didn't like them. It was too innovative. Too different. Like the rest of the board, Margot was conservative, favoring traditional designs that fit into country clubs and afternoon tea parties. Sasha's talents were being wasted under Margot's leadership.

"That's it. I can always come back if I've missed something." Sasha's voice pulled me from my thoughts. She stood in the doorway, a suitcase in one hand and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

I moved to take the bags from her, but she stepped back, her grip tightening. "I've got it."

My hands shot up in a gesture of surrender. I had to take it easy and avoid pushing her away. It seemed like Sasha valued her independence and anything that infringed upon that was seen as an attack. "Alright. But let me at least carry the suitcase."

She hesitated before finally handing it over. "Fine. But don't think this means you're in charge."

I smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

We made our way back to the car, the silence between us less tense than before. As we drove past the large houses with gated driveways leading to where I lived, I could feel her anxiety growing. This was one of the richest and most exclusive areas of Huntington Harbor. It might as well have been another planet from the area where she lived. She was about to step into a world she'd never been a part of, and it had to be overwhelming.

When we arrived at my building, I drove into the underground garage. The doorman came to take her bags and led us to the private elevator to my penthouse suite. Once we arrived, I guided her inside.

The moment Sasha stepped into the penthouse, I could see the discomfort etched across her face. Her gaze flickered over the polished surfaces, the expensive art, and the sheer scale of the space as if it were a museum rather than a home. She stood stiffly in the foyer, her fingers gripping the strap of her duffel bag like it was the only thing grounding her.

"This is, a lot," she said finally. Her voice was faint, almost swallowed by the vastness of the room.

I shrugged, trying to downplay the opulence. "It's home. You'll get used to it," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual.

She shot me a look, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not sure I want to."

Her words hung in the air, and I realized then how jarring this must be for her. Sasha wasn't just stepping into a new home. Judging by what I saw of her apartment, she was stepping into a world she'd never been a part of a world of wealth and privilege that she clearly resented. I wanted to say something to ease her tension, but I knew better. She wasn't the type to be comforted by empty reassurances.

"Come on, I'll show you around." I gave her a quick tour, emphasizing the security measures in place, the state-of-the-art alarm system, the cameras, and the reinforced doors. She listened quietly, her expression unreadable. I watched as she navigated her new surroundings with a quiet unease. She moved gingerly, as if afraid to touch anything. When we reached the guest room, she set her bags down and turned to me.

"I'll take this room," she said.

I frowned. "The master bedroom is bigger. You should take that."

She shook her head. "This is your space, Denver. I'm just a guest. I'll stay here. Besides, this is only temporary."

I wanted to argue, but I could see that she wasn't going to budge. "Alright. But if you change your mind, the offer stands."

I couldn't help but notice that she had a faint smattering of freckles across her cheeks. I wanted to trace each point with my fingers and then follow it with a kiss. This was insanity. I shook my head clear of the intrusive thoughts. "I'll let you get settled. If you need anything, just let me know."

She nodded again, and I left her to unpack, retreating to the living room. I poured myself a drink. This arrangement was supposed to be a simple business deal with mutual benefits. But already, it was becoming more complicated than I anticipated. Sasha was unlike any other woman I had ever met. Not only did she not fawn over me, she wasn't even all that impressed. She was independent and not at all afraid to challenge me. Frankly, that made her all the more attractive to me.

As I sipped my drink, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had gotten myself in way over my head. The stalker was the most immediate threat, but my growing attraction to Sasha was going to be the real danger. After a lifetime of dealing with wolf pack politics and my conniving family, I had had enough and preferred to live as a lone wolf. My life was simple and quiet. And I liked it that way. But now, she was making me question everything I thought I knew about myself.

Later that night, I stared at the ceiling as I lay in bed. Even through all the walls between us, her presence disturbed my peace, leaving me a restless agitated mess. My wolf's enhanced senses picked up everything. I heard each thump of her heart, each breath she took, and each rustle of her sheets as she turned. I even found her delicate snoring to be cute.

Opening my eyes, I glanced at the time. Midnight. I'd been lying in bed for hours, listening to her soft breaths through the walls. It was maddening. I was Denver Roberts, billionaire alpha wolf shifter, and here I was, wide awake because of a human woman who snored like a kitten. Pathetic.

Her scent drifted through the penthouse, and I was sure that by the end of this arrangement, every corner of my home was going to smell like her. I let out a low growl of satisfaction at the thought of coming home to her delicious scent every night.

Suddenly, I heard her cry out in her sleep. I jolted up and pushed the sheets aside, but then I stopped myself. As much as I wanted to go to her to make sure she was okay, it was out of the question. She had been clear when she stated her boundaries and I had to respect them. No matter how much my instincts were screaming at me to burst into her room and take her into my arms. I was going to protect her, but it had to be on her terms.

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