Chapter 3 #3
“When’s the last time you minded your own business?”
A grin tugs at my mouth despite myself. I step closer, watching her pupils dilate even as she lifts her chin in defiance. “Is this how you talk to everyone, or am I special?”
“You’re not special, Mr. Wolfe. You’re just persistent.” She moves toward the door, and I catch the quickening of her pulse. “And I need to get back to work.”
“Have dinner with me.”
The words are out before I can stop them. Where the hell did that come from?
She stops. Turns slowly. “What?”
We’re standing close in the small break room. Close enough that her scent wraps around me, warm and distracting. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.
“Dinner. Food. You know, that thing people eat when they’re hungry. I owe you one.”
“I know what dinner is.” Her tone could freeze fire. “The answer is no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s the only reason you’re getting.” She crosses her arms. “Now leave.”
I sigh, lacing my fingers behind my head. “With that attitude, no wonder you’re single.”
Her eyes flash. “How do you know I’m single?”
Shit. I can’t exactly tell her I don’t smell a man on her. That my wolf senses would pick up another’s scent immediately.
“Lucky guess,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “And based on your reaction, I’d say my guess was dead on.”
Her jaw clenches. “For your information, I have a lunch date this Saturday. At a fancy French restaurant on Halim Street.”
I almost laugh. “People who lie usually overshare information. Nice try.”
“I’m not lying!”
The thought of her sitting across from some other man makes something possessive and irrational twist in my gut. “Sure you’re not.” I lean closer, watching her pupils dilate. “What’s his name?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“Get out.”
“What does he do?”
“I said get out!” Her voice rises, echoing in the small break room. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”
“The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” I hold up my hands. “Doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy proving you wrong.”
I make it to the door before I look back. She’s standing there, clipboard clutched to her chest, cheeks flushed with anger. Her breathing has quickened, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that draws my eyes. Beautiful and infuriating in equal measure.
“See you around, Miranda,” I say, just to watch her eyes widen when she realizes I know her name.
Then I leave before she can throw something at me.
The hallway is busier now, more nurses and doctors moving between rooms. I’m almost to the exit when I see him.
A doctor, tall and conventionally handsome in that bland way some women probably find attractive. He’s walking toward the break room I just left, and the scent hits me as he passes.
Lust. Sharp and unmistakable, directed toward wherever he’s going.
And underneath it, another scent. Female. Recent. The kind that comes from bodies pressed together in dark corners.
My wolf curls its lip in disgust.
“Miranda,” the doctor calls out as he reaches the break room door.
I stop walking.
Miranda appears in the doorway, and her whole face changes. Softens. She smiles at him like he’s not covered in another woman’s scent.
“Dr. Hudson. I was just about to check on the patient in room four.”
“I already handled it.” He touches her arm, familiar and possessive. “You should take a break. You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine. My shift is almost over.”
“You’re always fine.” His thumb strokes her forearm. “How about I pick you up on Saturday? We can grab a movie before our reservation.”
Saturday. The French restaurant on Halim Street.
She wasn’t lying.
And she’s an idiot.
The image of her sitting across from him, smiling while he touches her, burns through my mind. That possessiveness is back, stronger now, clawing at my control.
I turn away, jaw clenched. This is none of my business. She can date whoever she wants. If she wants to go out with some horny bastard who can’t even wait until his shift ends to screw around, that’s her problem.
Not mine.
I make it to my car and sit there, engine running, telling myself to drive away.
I should warn her. Maybe she doesn’t know.
Every possessive instinct I have rebels at the idea of that man’s hands on her.
At the idea of Miranda sitting across from him at some restaurant, smiling and laughing, letting him touch her arm, lean close, whisper things that make her blush.
While he probably has another woman’s number already saved in his phone.
While he reeks of someone else’s perfume.
The thought makes me want to shift and hunt.
Thirty minutes pass. Then forty. I don’t move.
This is stupid. I should go home. Check on Ethan. Get some sleep.
Then I see her.
Miranda walks out of the ER entrance, no longer in scrubs but wearing dark slacks and a cream blouse that makes her skin glow under the parking lot lights. She’s parked far from where I am, in a section that’s poorly lit. I watch her make her way across the lot, her steps slow and weary.
I should go home. Check on Ethan. Get some sleep.
But I don’t move.
Then I see them.
Three men emerge from between parked cars. They’re holding baseball bats and crowbars in their hands and heading straight for her.
Miranda notices them too. I see the exact moment she does. Her body language changes instantly. Her grip tightens on her bag, and her expression morphs into one of fear. Her steps quicken.
Then she runs.
My heart slams against my ribs.
The men run after her.
“Shit.” I’m out of my car, moving fast.
Miranda disappears behind a row of vehicles, the men right behind her. I lose sight of them completely. At least fifty yards of concrete and parked vehicles separate me from where they vanished.
But I can hear everything.
The beast inside me surges forward, and my senses sharpen. Every sound is amplified in ways human ears could never catch.
“Well, have you thought about our boss’s offer?” A male voice.
I’m running now, weaving between cars, trying to close the distance.
“I told you,” Miranda hisses. “I’m making payments like we agreed. And my answer is still no.”
“This will all go away if you just spread your legs.” One of the men laughs, and something feral snarls within me.
“I’m not a whore, so tell him to kindly fuck off.”
My nurse certainly spares no punches. Her mouth is going to get her into trouble one day.
I hear the lunge. The scuffle of feet. A sharp cry. The heavy thud of flesh hitting flesh.
“Get your hands off me!”
The beast inside me snaps, unexpected rage bursting through my veins. It takes everything I have not to shift on the spot. However, I leap forward, using the hood of a nearby car as a springboard, and land on top of Miranda’s vehicle with a metallic thud that echoes through the parking garage.
Two men have Miranda pinned against her vehicle, each holding one of her arms. The third is on the ground, blood streaming from his nose as he staggers to his feet.
All three men look up. Miranda’s eyes go wide, shock on her face.
I bare my teeth in something that’s not quite a smile.
“Let go of the lady,” I say, my voice coming out low and dangerous. “She might have zero personality, but that doesn’t mean you get to put your hands on her.”