Chapter Six
Wickham
Milton drones on about how excited he is to be bringing me on while people shuffle into the room.
“The best and brightest,” he reassures me for the thousandth time. “You’ll love being involved here.”
“I don’t want to be involved,” I reply. “I’m here to help the business flourish in your absence, but I’ll only come in when I need to.”
Like when I need to see her.
Annie Lane.
My fucking mate.
Who ran from me.
The feral dragon in me knows she’s in this building and I’m ready to burst out of my skin. Scales and teeth and claws.
The urge to wrench her from her glass-encased office has been eating at me since I arrived an hour ago.
Every day, I’ve stared at her profile picture from an app I must’ve been too drunk to remember downloading.
Grace K., 29, Retail.
Once I woke up, realized she was gone, and miraculously did not burn down the hotel, it took an agonizing nineteen hours to find her. Her abandoned social media rendered only a partial match to The Botanical’s lobby camera footage, but once the profile appeared in my inbox, I could tell it was her immediately.
Annie Lane, 29, Architect.
It was another two days to hunt her down in person. I’d be mad about the subterfuge, but it meant none of the other matches got any piece of her, and my instincts like that she still chose me.
For a week, I’ve watched her working through the windows and paced in the wooded park neighboring Parsens’s office building. I brought in a folding desk and chair to get work done with her in my line of sight.
Once the bond sets, the urge to catch her, to hold her, won’t be so adamant.
At least I fucking hope so.
The dragon community is nonexistent in Tavers City. I’ve been on my own since my father died more than a century ago.
“Right, of course,” Milton says. He smooths his suit and hops to his feet.
Milton’s been after me for years to buy him out. He’s been trying to retire for nearly a decade, and I’m the only non-VC in the city who buys and keeps stock in independently owned businesses.
The other partners had a right of first refusal but were eager to have me when they learned I intended to be a mostly silent partner. Milton gets his buy-out, the rest don’t have to foot the bill or suffer an unknown handling operations.
Doesn’t mean I’ve ceded control. I’m still the majority shareholder.
“How often do you think you’ll be in the office?” I ask. I don’t want him looking over my shoulder while I’m looking over hers .
“One or two days a week, and less when Alan’s fully settled.”
Good. I can come and go as I please without being accosted by Milton’s pestering. He was giddy when I called last week and asked if his offer was still on the table.
The acquisition means more stability for us. More safety and security. If my mate wants to work, she can work.
For me.
No one else.
And then I sense it. Her.
The scent of burnt lemon and lavender slaps me in the face the moment she crosses the threshold. After our night together, the combination is tattooed onto my memory. I’ve been dying to have it again, like an addict, sneaking into her apartment while she’s at her office to lay in her bed.
Milton calls everyone to order and launches into his speech about his semi-retirement. The man can be long winded, but he’s too eager to bask in the victory for now. I’m sure he’ll throw himself a retirement party in a few weeks when he stops coming in at all.
The whole time he’s babbling, I search the crowd for the one face I want most.
I know she’s here; I can smell her. It isn’t as strong as I like, though. Whether that’s because of how many people are packed into the room or how far away she is, I’m not sure.
I’ve never had a mate before. I suppose some things we’ll have to work out for ourselves.
“I’d like everyone to meet Wickham Barrett, our newest investor,” Milton informs the crowd. He motions to me, and I stand.
Anxious faces look back at me. They’re probably worried about their jobs and what changes I’ll bring, but I have no interest in actually doing the work. That’s what Alan’s for. I’m here to supply money and receive access—no more, no less.
Clearing my throat, I project my voice so everyone will be able to hear.
“A round of applause for Milton,” I prompt. “This man has dedicated his life to making Parsens the success it is today. I only hope Alan and I can carry on his legacy.”
While they clap for Milton, I use the break to seek out the only person in this entire building who matters.
My eyes lock on the pretty blue gaze of my mate leaning against the back glass wall.
Violet, her friend from the bar, straightens beside her. She steps slightly forward and in front of my Annie.
I manage to wrangle the growl. She’s protecting her friend, but I do not like her trying to keep my mate from me.
Even if she will definitively fail.
Annie’s mine and no one else’s.
“I’m sure you’re all concerned about the changes happening,” I continue. “Let me reassure you, I won’t be a part of your day-to-day operations. Alan is an excellent manager and even better executive. You’ll see me around the building, checking in, and I may sit with some of the staff to see what changes need to be made and ensure morale remains high.”
I find my mate once more. My voice is the same metered tone, but I lock her in my sights so she knows this is meant for her alone.
“Allow me to reassure you that I won’t be letting you go. You belong here, with us, and that’s where you’ll stay.”
Her eyes widen, her pupils blowing out, but she drops her gaze to the floor. She hides under her lashes, as if she can save herself if she doesn’t look at me.
And hell , if that isn’t the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
The irrational, territorial hindbrain wants to make her kneel for me. She’ll be patient, and willing, and oh so damned delicious.
I pass the meeting off to Alan, who gives his own speech reassuring the crowd that the transition will be smooth and that any changes will be gradual over the next twelve months.
None of it registers to me. All I see is my Annie, standing across the room as if she can be apart from me.
The meeting breaks, but she and Violet hurry out before I can get to her.
I know where her office is, so it’s not as if she can hide.
I’m only a few seconds behind her, but my mate and her friend have enough of a lead that they barricade themselves in Annie’s office.
Straightening my suit and cracking my neck, I draw in a deep breath and knock on the frosted glass of Annie’s office.
Her performance reviews and internal evaluations establish her as a rising star at the firm—exactly what I’d expect from my mate.
She’s exceptional in every way.
Violet swings the door open and stares at me like she’s concerned I’m here to kidnap her friend.
Which is fair. Because I absolutely am.
She opens her mouth, but before any sound escapes I lift a single finger.
“Out,” I demand.
“I think it’s best that I—”
“ I said leave , Violet. I need to talk to Annie.”
Violet checks with her friend, but my mate only sighs dramatically and shrugs to agree with me.
The woman knocks my shoulder on her way out of the office, and she gains a few points in her favor. I like loyalty, even when it’s directed against me.
Gliding the chair out on the other side of Annie’s desk, I squeeze into it and lean forward with my elbows resting on my knees. I’m as close as I can physically be to her, behind her desk, without vaulting the surface.
“You left me,” I accuse.
Her shoulders slump, and she searches the room. Her distressed gaze skims over the people outside her glass-encased office.
“We can’t discuss that here,” she whispers.
“I own the place. I can discuss whatever I want.”
“No, you can’t. I’m a subordinate now.”
“Actually, we have a pre-existing relationship. Our pairing is perfectly legal.”
“It was a one night stand, not a relationship.”
Grinding my jaw, I withhold the things I want to say in response. Annie is mine. She always has been and she always will be.
Instead, I suck in a breath and say, “however you want to classify it, it existed before I bought Parsens.”
I wouldn’t have bought it before you.
“And the people who accuse me of sleeping my way to the top?”
“Would be idiots, but even so, they won’t be employed idiots after that.”
Annie groans and hides her face in her hands. She mumbles a curse.
“Why are you here, Wick?” she asks. “This is a nightmare of epic proportions. People will already be talking about the fact that you’re in my office. I’ll have to find another job now.”
“Like fuck you will. You don’t work for anyone else.”
She drops her hands onto the desk.
“You don’t have a say in where I work.”
“I own your employer.”
“Fine, you don’t get a say in whether I stay.”
“Try to leave and see how well that works for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I didn’t buy this company to have you escape again, Annie. You run, and I’ll chase.”
Her eyes narrow, her teeth grinding together while she studies me. “Why did you buy the company?”
“You’re my mate. No one else can have any piece of you.”
“Mate?” she shrieks.
I stand and lean over the desk on straight arms. From this angle, I glare down at her hunched in her chair.
“ Mate , Annie. We are mates. That makes you mine, and I keep what’s mine close.”
“I’m a person, not a possession. You can’t just buy me.”
“I didn’t buy you. I bought Parsens.”
And several other businesses and properties , but she doesn’t need to know that. It took several days to find her, then another week to finish the paperwork and be ready to bring her home.
I’m not leaving without her.
“My job isn’t my whole life,” she informs me.
“I’m aware.”
Another beat of silence passes while she works through that statement. With a gasp, she whips a phone out of her purse on the cheap carpet floor and stabs the screen with her fingers.
First thing’s first, this office is getting a renovation befitting my mate.
“ Wickham Barrett ,” she seethes, but it only makes me like her more. “Tell me why my student loans have been paid and there’s a hundred thousand dollars in my account?”
“I don’t let anyone own any part of what’s mine. Your debts became mine, so I released them.”
“And the money?”
“My mate wants for nothing.”
“Except independence and privacy.”
“You have no need for either.”
She sucks in a deep breath, and the redness in her cheeks and neck make me think she wants to scream at me.
Instead, Annie rises to her feet. She frantically taps keys on her phone and finally looks back at me.
“I need to splash water on my face,” she says.
Leaning against the glass, I give her room to pass by. Our bodies brush, and I have the strongest urge to grab her and pull her into my arms. My nails extend and scratch against the glass.
But I can’t do any of that. It’s clear she’s already feeling confined.
I’ll give her a minute to collect herself.
She’ll come to realize this is what’s best.