Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

I sipped my coffee and set it on the table, my eyes fixed on the ink pattern on his bicep of a justice scale and dagger. “Do you think I’m not looking for a good man?”

 

 

He blew the steam from his mug and when he took his first sip, he began choking.

 

I furrowed my brow. “Something wrong with your coffee?”

 

Wheeler grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, it’s uh… hot. So with all the Shifters who come into your club, you’re that picky?”

 

Misha slinked around my legs and released a soft purr.

 

“A woman is allowed to have high standards. I need to make sure he can manage his money.”

 

“Ah,” he said, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “So it’s all about money.”

 

“I’m going to live hundreds of years, Wheeler. Do you think I want to be an exotic dancer for the rest of my life? I’m afraid I don’t have the talent Lexi has to run a bakery. I deserve a better life, and mating for money will give me the security I need to survive. I’m working my tail off to make sure I have enough set aside in case that doesn’t happen because, let’s face it, we both know there is no Prince Charming.” I dropped a cube of sugar in my coffee and stirred it with a thin straw. “You can judge me all you like—that’s your prerogative. A mating of convenience is not a mortal sin, and plenty of men mate a beautiful woman with zero intelligence. Not everyone believes in love.”

 

“Who said I believe in love?”

 

Misha suddenly leapt onto his lap and his arms flew up.

 

I chuckled and crossed my legs, leaning against the armrest. “You’re the first wolf she’s ever approached. She doesn’t even warm up to Lexi, and that’s saying something. Did you eat a tuna sandwich this morning?” I quipped.

 

He bounced his knees in a futile attempt to make her jump down. Misha merely sniffed his armpit and meowed once.

 

“Mind collecting your cat?”

 

“Misha’s goal is to win over anyone who dislikes her.”

 

Wheeler locked his hands behind his head, glaring at me. “Sounds like your * is a glutton for punishment.”

 

I laughed at his innuendo. “Touché. You catch on quick.”

 

“Well, you two just seem to have a lot in common.”

 

His comment nestled in the pit of my stomach, and the conversation went from playful to something else. “How are we alike?”

 

He opened and closed his legs, but Misha just stepped up on the armrest, placed her paw on his shoulder, and began grooming the hair behind his ear. “Annoying, persistent, and you’re only attracted to men who don’t like you.”

 

“If that were true, I’d be the one crawling all over your lap with my tongue in your ear, not Misha.”

 

When his lips parted and his eyes hooded, that’s when I knew that despite the verbal match between us, Wheeler was physically attracted to me. I’m not sure why that aroused me, but it did. My suggestion of seducing him lingered in my thoughts a few seconds too long, so I quickly got up and put Misha on the floor.

 

I leaned forward and gripped the top of the chair on either side of his head. “I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but I’ve never had anyone speak to me this way. I don’t form unhealthy friendships with people, but this isn’t exactly a friendship. I need a bodyguard, and neither of us seems to have any choice in the matter. So let’s just play nice, okay?”

 

His eyes glided down my neck and settled between my breasts. Wheeler’s pupils widened and, my God, I needed to get away from him. The closer I got, the more I picked up his heady scent. Wheeler was the opposite of the refined men in my life—powerful men with expensive clothes and imported cologne. Most were shorter or had a leaner frame than his medium build. Something began to culminate between us that I knew he must have felt, because he didn’t have a comeback. I wondered how it would feel to have those inked arms wrapped around my body, for the bristles on his face to scratch against my stomach as he laved my breast with his tongue. Would his hands feel as rough as they looked? Was he a gentle lover or animalistic?

 

The ropes of muscle in his arms were taut from the tight grip he had on the armrests of the chair.

 

Oh, no. This couldn’t be happening.

 

My cell phone rang and snapped me out of my fantasies. I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “I have a feeling that before this is all over, we’re going to end up killing each other.”

 

A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Now that sounds like fun.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

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