Chapter 5
Victor walked briskly towards the Town Hall, his long legs eating up the distance.
He told himself he was just checking, making sure the mayor hadn’t been completely irresponsible.
He told himself that it was a professional courtesy, a public health concern, anything but the frantic, possessive need driving him forward.
The lights were still on in Town Hall, and he sighed. He tried the heavy wooden door. Unlocked. Of course. Houston trusted everyone—an endearing quality in a mayor, but a security nightmare.
He stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty lobby.
The air was still, thick with the scent of old wood and floor polish.
He followed the sound of a faint rustling noise, down a narrow hallway to a door propped open with a stack of books.
A simple, hand-lettered sign was taped to it: ARCHIVES.
He followed the stairs down to the basement, the air growing cooler and dustier with each step.
The cavernous space was exactly as he remembered—crammed with metal shelving units sagging under the weight of countless boxes and folders.
A single bare bulb burned in the center of the room, casting long, distorted shadows.
And in the middle of it all, surrounded by towers of precariously stacked files, was Chloe.
She was on her knees, sorting through a cardboard box, her back to him. She’d taken off her coat and scarf, and the simple dress she wore beneath clung to the curve of her spine and the gentle swell of her hips. She hummed softly, a slightly off-key tune that made his chest ache.
Hyde went utterly, dangerously still.
He should leave. He should turn around, walk out, and pretend he’d never been here. He could call Houston tomorrow, make his case rationally as a doctor and a concerned citizen. Instead, he cleared his throat.
She jumped, a small gasp escaping her lips as she twisted around. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Dr. Jackson? What are you doing here?”
“The door was unlocked,” he said roughly. “I was passing by and saw the light. I was concerned there might be a trespasser.”
It was a flimsy lie and he knew it. Her brow furrowed, her expression shifting from surprise to suspicion.
“Here in the town archives? I doubt there’s anything worth stealing.”
“Some people are very protective of the town’s records.” He managed a thin smile. “What are you still doing here? It’s after five.”
“Working.” She gestured at the chaotic piles surrounding her. “It’s a bigger job than I thought, but it’s fascinating. I found a box of town meeting minutes from the 1920s. You should hear some of the debates they had about installing the first traffic light.”
Her face lit up with an enthusiasm that made her even more beautiful. The same fire that had appeared when she’d defied him about the job. Passionate. Stubborn. And utterly alone.
Hyde stirred. Ours.
“Have you eaten?” The question was out before he could stop it.
Her head tilted. “I’m sorry?”
“Since your appointment. Have you eaten since then?”
She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. “No. I haven’t.”
“It’s after five.”
“You said that already.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face. “Are you going to lecture me about eating as well?”
“I’m going to tell you that you’re pregnant and you need to eat.” He took a step closer, into the circle of light. “You’ve been in this dusty basement for hours. It’s time to go home and rest.”
Her chin rose as she stared up at him and for a moment he was afraid she was going to argue.
But then she sighed and pushed herself to her feet, her movements stiff.
He could see the exhaustion in the lines of her face, the faint bruised shadows under her eyes.
She put a hand to the small of her back and winced, a small, unconscious gesture of pain.
The growl started deep in his chest, a low, possessive rumble of fury. He was across the space before he could think, his hands closing on her shoulders.
“Are you hurt?”
Her breath caught at his touch, her body tensing. “I’m fine. Just a little sore from bending over. The baby’s been kicking up a storm today.”
He could feel the warmth of her body beneath the thin fabric of her dress and her delicate bone structure under his hands. Every instinct screamed at him to pull her closer and carry her out of this basement and somewhere safe.
Instead, he forced himself to drop his hands and take a step back, his fists clenched at his sides. “You shouldn’t be down here. Your back shouldn’t be aching. You shouldn’t be exhausted.” The words came out in a sharp, clipped tone. “I’m calling Houston. This ends now.”
Her chin rose again, those warm brown eyes flashing with fire. “You will not. This is my job now. It was my decision and you don’t get to waltz in here and dictate my life because you don’t like the working conditions.”
“This isn’t about the working conditions! This is about your well-being and the well-being of your child.” He gestured at the dusty shelves. “This entire place is a breeding ground for mold. The air quality is atrocious. You’ve been breathing this in for hours.”
“I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” she shot back. “My grandmother spent her entire life working in worse conditions than this, and she raised three children. I think I can handle a few boxes of old paper.”
“Your grandmother is not the one carrying a child in a dusty, unsafe basement when she should be home resting.” He was pacing now, the restlessness coiling in his gut, a snake threatening to strike. “You’re being stubborn and reckless.”
“And you’re being arrogant and overbearing.” She crossed her arms over her chest, which unfortunately only drew his attention to the lush curves beneath her dress. “I appreciate your concern, Doctor. I truly do. But it’s misplaced. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He stopped in front of her, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re exhausted. You’re in pain. And you’re alone down here where anything could happen.”
The words hung between them, charged with meaning.
I don’t need you, her posture screamed, even as her eyes flickered with something vulnerable.
Hyde howled his disagreement. The beast inside him didn’t see a capable, independent woman.
He saw a mate in need of protection, a female carrying their—her—young into a dangerous world, a world they needed to make safe.
The urge to pick her up and carry her out of there, to take her home and tend to her needs was so overwhelming he had to lock his knees to keep from acting on it.
He forced himself to breathe, to focus on something concrete besides the overwhelming scent of her.
The dust motes dancing in the single beam of light.
The water stain spreading like a dark continent across the ceiling tiles.
The rusted latch on the far window that looked as if it hadn’t been opened in fifty years.
A hundred hazards, and she was standing in the middle of them as if this place were a sanctuary.
“Look,” she said, her voice softer now, a truce offering. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired, you’re… intense. Let’s just agree to disagree about this job, and I’ll go home and get some rest. Okay?”
He wanted to refuse. He wanted to stand his ground until she saw reason, until she admitted he was right and she was being reckless. But her eyes held a plea that he found impossible to ignore, even with Hyde roaring in his ears.
“Fine,” he bit out. “For now.”
“Thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “I just need to pack up my things.”
He watched as she bent down to retrieve a worn leather purse from beside the box she’d been sorting. The movement was too quick, too sharp. A soft cry of pain escaped her lips and her hand flew to her lower back, her body freezing in place.
Before he could stop himself, he was at her side. “Don’t move.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice was strained. “Just… a twinge.”
“Let me see.”
“Doctor, there’s nothing to—”
“Let. Me. See.”
The quiet authority in his voice finally cut through her stubbornness.
She dropped her hand, her face pale in the dim light.
His fingers hovered over the fabric of her dress, inches from the small of her back.
He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, and Hyde growled in approval.
Gently, carefully, he pressed his fingers against the tense muscles.
She gave a soft gasp at his touch, then slowly relaxed into it. Her warmth seeped into his hand, a current flowing straight to his groin. He pushed the feeling down, focusing on the knots of muscle bunched beneath his fingers.
“Your lumbar muscles are in knots,” he said, his voice husky. “Probably from overexertion combined with the added weight of the pregnancy. And this floor is freezing.” He shifted his gaze, noting the cold concrete with fresh anger.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, though she leaned slightly into his touch as he worked his thumb in a slow, deliberate circle, easing the tense muscles.
“No, you’re not.” He had to force himself not to pull her flush against him, to press his face into the fragrant softness of her hair. He settled for moving his other hand to the sweet curve of her hip, steadying her as he massaged her back.
“Easy,” he murmured. “I’m just going to help the muscles relax. Don’t fight me.”
Her body softened against his, and for a breathtaking second, she leaned back against him. Her scent filled his senses, a dizzying, intoxicating perfume. Hyde surged, a wave of possessive lust so powerful it almost broke his control.
Mine.
He bit back a growl and forced himself to release her, stepping back so quickly she almost stumbled. He caught her arm, his grip tighter than he’d intended.
“Sorry,” he bit out.
Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s all right.”
“We need to get you out of here.” His voice was rough. “Can you walk?”
“Of course. I’m just stiff.”