Page 12 of Pleasure and Mane
"So," Caius said, his voice carrying that rough edge that made her stomach flutter. "Where were we in the library? The pregnancy losses?—"
"Let's not," Quinn interrupted, surprising herself with the firmness in her voice. "It's a heavy topic for a first dinner. Besides, we shouldn't overdo emotions on my first night here."
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Practical."
"Professional," she corrected, though the way he said 'practical' made it sound like a compliment that heated her blood.
"Tell me about Leon then," she said, reaching for neutral ground. "How long have you been Alpha?"
"Since I was seventeen." His fingers traced the stem of his wine glass absently. "My parents died when I was twelve, and Henry served as acting Alpha until I came of age."
The casual way he mentioned such devastating loss made Quinn's heart clench. She'd read about emotional resilience in her psychology courses, but seeing it embodied in this powerful man who'd shouldered leadership responsibilities as a teenager was something else entirely.
"That's too young to carry that much responsibility."
Caius shrugged, but she caught the tension in his shoulders. "Someone had to do it. The pride needed stability."
And you've been carrying everyone ever since.The insight hit her with unexpected clarity. This was a man who put duty above personal desires, and who sacrificed his own needs for the greater good. No wonder he seemed wound so tight.
"What about you?" he asked, effectively deflecting attention from himself. "What made you choose to be a midwife?"
Quinn found herself relaxing slightly as the conversation shifted to familiar territory. "I wanted to be part of something beautiful instead of just treating sickness. Birth is this incredible moment where everything changes, where families begin. There's nothing else like it."
Something shifted in Caius's expression as she spoke—a warmth that transformed his strong features into something breathtaking.
"Tell me about your most memorable delivery," he said, leaning forward with genuine interest.
The request surprised her. Most people asked about the medical aspects or the financial side of her practice. No one ever wanted to hear the stories.
"There was this couple last winter," she began, settling into the memory. "Mara and Mike Shaw. First baby, and Mara went into labor during the worst blizzard Denver had seen in decades."
Caius's attention never wavered as she described the power outage, the improvised lighting using phone flashlights, and the way she'd delivered baby Emma by candlelight while wind howled outside the windows.
"The power came back on just as Emma took her first breath," Quinn finished, warmth spreading through her chest at the memory. "Mara said it was like the universe celebrated her daughter's arrival."
"You sounded incredible that night," Caius said quietly. "Staying calm under pressure and adapting to impossible circumstances. Your patients are lucky to have someone with such dedication and passion."
The sincere admiration in his voice made her pulse skip. This wasn't empty flattery—he understood what that night hadmeant, and the responsibility she'd carried for two lives in dangerous circumstances.
He sees me.The realization hit her with startling intensity. Not just the professional mask she wore, but the woman underneath who poured everything into her calling.
"Most people think a midwife is just a gentler version of an obstetrician," she said. "They don't understand the emotional investment."
"I understand," Caius said, and something in his tone made her believe he truly did. "Leading a pride requires the same kind of dedication and passion. Every decision affects their lives."
Their eyes met across the candlelit table, and Quinn felt something fundamental shift between them. This wasn't just attraction anymore—it was recognition. Two people who understood the weight of responsibility, and the beauty and burden of caring for others.
The grandfather clock in the corner chimed ten o'clock, but Quinn had lost all sense of time. All that existed was this man whose gaze made her feel like the most fascinating woman alive, and whose quiet attention was more intoxicating than the wine.
Six months,she thought again, but now the timeline felt less like endurance and more like possibility.
The question wasn't how she'd survive living under the same roof as Caius Haider. The question was how long before she stopped pretending she didn't want him just as much as he seemed to want her.
His fingers tightened around his wine glass, and Quinn watched shadows flicker across his face. "I wasn't always good at being a leader," he said quietly, his blue eyes fixed on some distant point beyond her shoulder. "When I was eighteen, barely a year into being Alpha, there was a territory dispute with the neighboring wolf shifter community."
Quinn's breath caught at the raw pain that crept into his voice. This wasn't the confident, controlled man who'd challenged her in the library. This was someone holding onto the weight of old wounds.
"They were encroaching on our hunting grounds, and I thought..." He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. "I thought I needed to prove myself. Show them that youth didn't mean weakness. My father would have handled it with diplomacy and patience. But I was young and stupid and let my emotions drive me straight into a battle we never should have fought."
