It's just that he's so actively wooing me. He's proving he can provide, taking care of my every need. It's sweet as hell, but also unnerves me if I think about it too hard. I feel like I'm on a reality television show where I have a limited amount of time to get to know bachelor number one and decide if he's the guy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.
Um, no.
Carlos and I have chemistry, no doubt about that. But I can't decide how much of the rest of it is real. Is he here wooing me because his biology forces him to? His wolf won't let me go now that he's marked me?
Isn't there some better girl for him? Someone from his own culture, who speaks the language and doesn't mind the crazy council?
But even as I think that, I hate this imagined mate. She'd be all wrong for him, I just know.
I set down the leather bag I'm examining.
"Do you want one?" Carlos asks.
I shake my head. "No thanks, money bags."
He lifts a brow. "Money bags?"
"Are you trying to show what a good provider you are?"
He chuckles. "I'm old-fashioned. Maybe so."
"What is your financial situation, anyway?" I ask, then immediately kick myself because now I sound like the bachelorette interviewing her prospect.
"My pack has wealth. Generally, it all goes to the hacienda and the rest are left with nothing."
He says this matter-of-factly, but I know it's not something he's accepted, or he wouldn't call it to my attention.
"So are you going to redistribute the wealth?"
"It's not quite so easy. I want to divert the money to infrastructure-plumbing and electricity, better housing. But I think we could also change the way we do business to increase profits. I've been examining the books and we should be making more. Much more."
"Do you think someone's stealing it?"
He meets my eye. "To be honest? Yes."
I squeeze his hand. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure out who and take care of it. That's why you're there, right?"
He loops an arm around my waist and twirls me into him, my breasts pressing up against his ribs. "Everything seems doable when I'm with you."
My heart stutters and I melt into him, lifting my face for a kiss.
He ghosts his lips over mine. "You give me reason," he murmurs.
Part of me wants to draw away, to deny him me as his reason. I'm not ready for that commitment. But fireworks are going off in my chest and I'm smiling up at him like a goofball.
His kiss is warm and tender, infused with something deeper than passion.
It scares the crap out of me.
Carlos
I step out of the shower after a day spent touring the Gaudí House Museum with Sedona. I swear she makes everything magical. Gaudí's architecture is impressive, no doubt, but seeing it through her eyes made it all the more glorious.
With a towel wrapped around my waist, I walk out of the bathroom into our hotel room and find Sedona. In the red dress.
"Oh no, muñeca. You're not wearing that out," I say with complete authority. I have to prevent this catastrophe, or I will be ripping out the eyes of every male who sees her tonight.
Not to mention the additional problem of us not making it to dinner because I now want to throw her up against the wall and ball her brains out.
"Dress off. You can't wear that." Bad move on my part, but I can't stop the dictate from flying out of my mouth.
She throws her hands on her hips. "Fuck. You. I'll wear whatever I damn well please."
Okay, yeah. I totally fucked up on that one.
I stalk toward her, a hunter after his prey. I shove my wolf down before speaking this time. "Forgive me, mi amor. I didn't mean it like that." My hands reach for her hips and I slide the fabric up to reveal more thigh. "I just meant if you wear that, the only thing I'll be eating tonight will be you."
One of those beautiful smiles lights up her face. "I'm counting on that."
I groan. "But you're starving. You already said so-twice-before we got back here to shower and change."
"You'll have to contain yourself until after dinner." She covers my palms with hers to stay them.
"Impossible."
She shrugs. "Then I'll go alone."
"The hell you will," I growl. This time I can't help but crowd her back against the wall and trap her between my arms. "Take off. The dress."
Her eyes dilate. The corners of her lips kick up. "No." I hear the challenge in her voice. It's the same one that tells me to chase when she runs.
But somewhere, somehow, I also remember that she's hungry. It's my duty to provide for my female. So I'll have to make this quick. I spin her around to face the wall and fist the fabric of her skirt in back to pull it up.
She's wearing miniscule panties-tiny, G-string satin threads with a scrap of fabric between her legs.
I rip them off her, unable to contain myself enough to take them off gently. "Who are those for?" I growl, insanely jealous because she had those panties with her, she brought them to Paris, before she knew I'd join her.
"Easy, big guy," she soothes. "They're for you. Only for you. Like this pussy." She reaches between her legs and touches herself.
Oh no she didn't.
I snake an arm around her waist to hold her in place and spank her lush ass, my hand falling fast and hard. My other hand slides down her belly to cup her mons. She's dripping wet. I press one finger into her wet heat, use it to spread moisture up to her clit. She closes her fingers over mine, rocks down for more attention down there.