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"Your detail will rotate every night. You won't see them but they'll be there." He straightened his jacket one final time, the gesture so controlled it was almost a performance.

"You want me to go home and then you'll come over and fuck me?"

"We're business partners now. Officially. A wise person said they don't fuck where they file."

"That was before she knew what you had in your filing cabinet."

He grinned, taking his last lick of his fingers. "I'll be in touch when there's something that requires your attention, Ms. Odhimabo."

"Of course, Mr. Blackwood," I said. "Business partners."

He held my gaze for one beat too long. Then he walked to the door, opened it, and was gone.

I stood in my office — my office, my name on the door, my nameplate catching the lamplight, my desk with all my tools still neatly arranged — and listened to the elevator arrive and depart.

Business partners. Alright, Magnus Blackwood. Game on. Because I was going to fuck that man, and then file the experience away.

I went back to my desk. Sat down. And resumed working.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MAGNUS

Istopped at the cabin first. It was a detour of four minutes off the main road to the estate. I parked, let myself in, and went straight to the shower.

The water came out scalding. I only knew that because of the steam surrounding me. My body felt none of it. I stood under the spray with my hands braced against the tile and let the heat do its work.

Her scent was on my jacket, my shirt, my hands. It was embedded in the fabric and my skin. Vanilla and incense and the warm-dark note underneath that I had stopped pretending I couldn't identify. My wolf was not helping. It sat at the back of my skull in sullen protest, making its displeasure known in a low, continuous whine.

I thought about her on the desk. The way she had gripped the edge of it. The sounds she had made when I found what I was looking for. I thought about the totalness of her surrender. She'd held nothing back. Two climaxes had not been enough. If I'd worked her up to a third, I'd have used my mouth. Then I'd have sunk into her for a fourth and likely would not have withdrawn until the workday was well and truly over. She had come apart under my hands with the same directness she brought to everything, and I had pressed my mouth to her temple afterward like an idiot, like a man who did not have a pressing engagement at all.

Nell had been in that office for four hours. Four hours and she had found and begun restructuring the solution to a problem I had just signed my freedom away to solve.

The scent of her on my fingers was almost gone. Almost.

I put my thumb in my mouth. The taste of her hit the back of my throat. My wolf let out a sound that was like the call to a hunt. My other hand found my cock. I worked myself, desperate for a release. The heat of the water and the taste of her on my tongue and the image of her gripping the edge of her desk assembled themselves into something that moved through me like a current and broke with an intensity that brought me to my knees.

I stayed under the water for another minute. Then I washed my hands with soap, turned off the shower, and got dressed.

I walked to the main house instead of driving. Instead of running. I used the time to put my face back together.

The kitchen was lit when I came in, warm and smelling of whatever Ma had been cooking since late afternoon. The family was assembled in the family room informal configuration, which meant this was not a meeting. My father was in his armchair. Vidar stood by the window. Gunnar was on the couch with his feet on the coffee table until Ma looked at him, at which point his feet came off the coffee table without a word being exchanged.

I came in, poured myself a scotch, and stood at the edge of the room.

"The transit network is secured. I met with Sorsha this morning. She's giving us access to her courier operation. We can move anything we need to route through channels the Volki aren't watching. It's all handled."

Dad nodded once, but those gray eyes of his studied me.

Vidar's shoulders dropped a fraction. Satisfied.

Gunnar said nothing. He was looking at the middle distance with his arms crossed and his jaw set, which for Gunnar — who generally expressed every thought he had within three seconds of having it — was the loudest silence in the room.

Ma poured tea. She and my dad shared a look. I'd been watching them exchange wordless glances all my life. I knew this look well. It meant our son was hiding something from us. Do you want to get it out of him, or shall I?

Dad drew the short straw. "The price?"

"The wedding date moves up. Formal introduction to Rosalind in a couple of weeks. Ceremony before the New Year."