Rafe
I follow Adele out of my office, admiring her slender form in her fitted dress. She moves with a feline-like grace. Actually she’s very cat-like, this female, which is probably why the two of us don’t mix well.
My wolf wants to dominate, and she’s ready to scratch my nose.
The truth is, I like the idea of the beautiful spitfire Adele Fabre working for me far too much. The feisty foodie is the farthest thing from my type of female. Not that I have a type. Or time for females. And civilians—aka, humans—are supposed to be off-limits, according to my own rules.
But that rule obviously didn’t stick with Deke or my young brother, who both just mated humans—friends of Adele.
After what happened with her business partner and her shop last month, I’ve been concerned about her. The murder
