Animal Instincts by Gena Showalter

bed, that is. He sure hadn’t acted like it that first day in his office. Yes, he had called me a few times after the reception, but that had been strictly business. Hadn’t it?
    My chest constricted with…hope? Fear? “You said something else,” I insisted. “Something about Royce.”
    He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
    Yes, he had, but I decided to let it slide. I didn’t know if I truly wanted to hear the answer.
    Perhaps I’d set Mel up with Colin. He seemed nice enough, and she’d go wild for his non-lazy eyes. I thought Kera was more his type, but she was now interested in her neighbor.
    Just then, a hard, uncompromising form came up behind me. Two hands anchored on top of my shoulders. I didn’t need to see who it was to know. I felt who it was, experiencing warm, electrical currents through my entire body.
    Royce.
    My clothes and skin soaked up the delicious heat of him, the erotic scent of him.
    “I said ten minutes, Naomi. Not eleven. Not twelve. You’re late.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just sailed past me and inside his office, forcing me to follow.
    “Please tell Daisy I said thank you for all her praise and recommendations,” I told Colin over my shoulder. What was wrong with Royce? I didn’t understand that man. Not even a little bit. “That means a lot to me.”
    “You bet,” Colin said.
    With that, I nodded goodbye, pasted a professional smile on my face and curbed the urge to flip Elvira off as I skipped past her astonished face.

7
    Animals of every species sense those who are weaker than themselves. They sense it—and attack. A Tigress must never let down her guard. She must realize danger lurks behind every bush, deep in every shadow and around every corner.
    S HAKING WITH THE FORCE of my sudden nervousness, I slowed my pace as I entered Royce’s office. Why was I nervous? I thought in the next instant. The man was, well, a man. He wasn’t God (as he’d reminded me himself yesterday) or even a superhero. Unless he rescued small children from burning buildings and I just didn’t know it. With his Triple C attitude, though, that was highly unlikely. However, I could easily picture him ordering said children to jump out a window, landing mat optional.
    Anyway, he didn’t decide the fate of my world.
    He stood at the bar. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his features as he said, “Have a seat.” His tone was stiff. With a wave of his hand, he indicated a chair. Even his motions were stiff.
    Watching him warily, I smoothed my skirt and eased down.
    He shifted from one foot to the other (stiffly), then poured himself a drink (even more stiffly), downed it (still more stiffly). Poured two more. “Would you care for anything?” Yep, stiff.
    “No, thanks.” The slightest bit of alcohol always went straight to my head. Probably because of my “delicate bone structure,” as my mom would say. Or, as my stepdad would say, because of my “horrendous eating disorder.”
    “I’ll drink yours, then.” He gulped back both drinks, slammed the glasses on the bar and bowed his head. He stayed that way, silent, unmoving, for a long while.
    “Next time, please tell your assistant I’m expected,” I said, just to cut through the tension. I tried for a professional tone, rather than censuring.
    “I told her this time,” he replied, confused. Still stiff, though.
    My eyes narrowed. That bitch! She’d lied to me about not being on the precious list. I should have told Colin to go ahead and fire her.
    “I didn’t mean to shout at you,” Royce said, finally, blessedly relaxing. He sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I…apologize.”
    The apology sounded strained, a bit forced, but I didn’t care. I was surprised he’d even made the effort.Disciples of evil that they were, most men wouldn’t have. “Apology accepted.”
    He pivoted on his heel and stalked to his desk, where he sat on the corner, his gaze locking with mine. I shifted in my seat. His expression was