Shawn cleared his throat. “I, um, I guess I’ll see you later.” Jaime waited until Shawn was out of hearing distance before speaking. “You know, there’s really no need to bully him.”

Dante shackled her wrist with his hand. “Come on.” Ignoring the sizzle of heat that traveled up his arm, he led her to his SUV and opened the passenger door.

“What about my car? I can’t just leave it here.”

Dante snorted. “That is not a car. That is an accident waiting to happen. There is no chance I’m letting you drive that. Give me your keys, and I’ll have Ryan pick it up later. Once it’s in a better condition, you can have it back.” He hated the idea of her driving that rusty old thing.

Immediately Jaime’s hackles were up. Even her wolf didn’t like the orders, despite being such a huge fan of Dante’s. “There’s nothing wrong with my car. I’ll drive it and follow—”

“No, you will not put yourself in danger. Give me your keys, and I’ll have Ryan pick it up later,” he repeated, making it an order this time.

The f**king shit-stain. No woman, submissive or not, would appreciate being spoken to like that, but a submissive female would follow an order from her Beta when it was related to her safety.

So, gritting her teeth, Jaime dug her hand into her bag, took out her keys, handed them over, and then hopped into the SUV without a word.

Inside her head, she cursed him repeatedly as indignation surged through her. Not only because of his high-handed behavior, but because she didn’t want to be in such close proximity with someone her body reacted to as if it thought it belonged to him. “So where are we going?” she asked when he reversed out of the parking space.

“The Steakhouse. Okay with you?”

“Fine,” she grumbled. The cocky jerk seemed to find her mood amusing. “What is it you want to talk about anyway?”

“Like I said before, we’ll talk at the restaurant.” He wanted to be looking at her when he quizzed her. Wanted to be able to observe her posture and see right into those mischievous eyes while he tried to solve her secret.

Earlier, as he’d been pondering Jaime’s current state, he’d realized that this hadn’t been the first time he had seen her looking like that. Although on the outside she always seemed strong, bright, and lively, there was an undercurrent of melancholy about her. Some days she seemed…tired. Not physically, but mentally, as if there was something weighing hard on her that ate at her natural enthusiasm. He didn’t like it, and neither did his wolf.

He had tried asking Gabe about it, but the male had played dumb. Dante hadn’t been surprised, and he didn’t blame Gabe—his loyalty to his older sister was admirable. That had left Dante only one option: he’d have to go straight to the source. He was determined to solve the mystery that was Jaime Farrow.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up outside the restaurant. “Wait, I’ll get the door for you.” She gave him a look that said she could do it herself. “I know, but I want to do it, so wait.” When he opened the passenger door, he took her hand and helped her slide from the SUV. Rather than release her, he kept her hand in his as he led her inside the restaurant. He probably should have released her purely for the reason that he liked touching her. Liked it a little too much. He’d give himself a hard time about it later.

He wasn’t oblivious to the number of eyes that tracked her as she followed the waitress to their table. He couldn’t blame the guys, especially since she was sexy as hell in those jeans that looked as though they’d been painted on. Still, he shot them glares that had them quickly averting their eyes. His wolf settled a little, satisfied that they had been warned off.

As she sat in the seat opposite Dante, Jaime barely refrained from snarling at the waitress for ogling him like she wasn’t even there—even though she wished she wasn’t. Her body was already heating at the close contact with him, and she just hoped to God that he didn’t sense it. As they placed their orders, he didn’t return the waitress’s flirtatious smile or give her any kind of encouragement.

That earned him some points. He earned even more points for not paying any attention to the waitress when she accidentally-on-purpose dropped her pen, offering him a view of her ass. Instead, he looked only at Jaime.

“So,” he finally began after a minute of silence, “how are things going with you and that damn human?”

Oh this was getting tedious. “Fine. Although it would be better if you’d lay off.”

“I’m looking out for you—it’s my job.”

It hurt that that was all she was to him—a duty. “I’ve told you once before, what happens between Shawn and me is really none of your business.”

Those words made his blood boil, though he wasn’t sure why. His wolf reacted just as strongly. “Don’t ever say that to me, Jaime. Don’t,” he rumbled.

“Then back off and give me some space. I’m serious, Dante, if you don’t stop butting in, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…” Damn, she’d nearly threatened to kick his ass—something no submissive wolf would ever do.

He smiled crookedly. “You’re going to what?”

“I’m going to sulk.”

He chuckled but quickly sobered as he said, “You look kind of stressed out today. Care to tell me why that is?”

“I’m just having an off day,” she said with a shrug.

Her shrug involuntarily drew Dante’s gaze to those br**sts that he’d been fantasizing over since she joined the pack. Damn, her ni**les were hard. His entire body clenched at the sight of them poking slightly through her aqua-blue T-shirt. It was a struggle to tear his eyes away. “Why?” She was looking down at the table, doodling circles on the mahogany wood and worrying her lower lip. “I didn’t have a great sleep last night, that’s all.” He had been interrogating people long enough to know when someone was lying to him. He cupped her chin and raised her head so that he could seize her gaze. He didn’t drop his hand as he probably should’ve. “I told you yesterday that if there was anything wrong, you should come to me.”

“And I should come to you about sleep deprivation?”

“There’s more to it than that, Jaime.”

She lounged back into her seat, moving out of his hold before she did something dumb, like lick his hand to find out if he tasted as good as he smelled. “I can assure you, there isn’t.”