“Why am I not convinced?”

“Because you’re paranoid from all the crack pipes?”

He leaned forward, still holding her gaze. “Tell me.”

“Look, even if there was anything to tell, I’m not the kind of person who likes to share, okay.” Like him, he mused. That should have been enough for him to drop it, but he couldn’t. Even if he’d wanted to, his protective instincts wouldn’t have let him—not when it came to Jaime. Even when she was a cutely plump, annoying little kid who’d followed him around, he’d been protective of her; seeing her being constantly targeted by bullies had reminded him of exactly what he was forced to deal with at home with his brothers. “If you don’t tell me what the problem is, I can’t help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Well you’re getting it, baby.”

That endearment shouldn’t have made something clench low in her stomach, but it did. “Come on, Dante, you must know the drill by now. You pester me, and I ignore you.” His mouth curved into a grin. “You really think I’ll be put off that easily? Oh, Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. What you have to understand is that I am vigilant in protecting my wolves. If I think one of them needs protecting—even from themselves—then I’ll see to that. It’s what I do and it’s who I am.

You can lie to me as much as you want, but I’ll know, and I’ll just keep on asking until you talk.” She put her hand over her heart. “Wow, I almost gave a f**k.” His grin widened. “You are one stubborn little shit.”

“Not stubborn, just determined.” The waitress returned then with their drinks, once again eyeing Dante like he was a snack. Again, he paid her no attention, which Jaime quite liked.

“No, you’re stubborn,” he insisted when the waitress was gone. “But guess what? I’m more stubborn. Now, tell me what’s got you so stressed.” When she said nothing, he pressed. “Jaime.” Just like yesterday, the pull in his voice to answer him, to give him what he wanted, sent pleasant tingles down her spine. There was that dominance and assertiveness that had females flocking around him. As much as she wished it wasn’t a turn-on, it damn well was. She liked dominance in a male as long as they understood and accepted that she had a rebellious streak a mile long. She imagined that Dante would know just how to handle it in the bedroom. Quickly she shut the door on that thought.

“Tell me.”

“Why?”

“You’re upset. I don’t like it. I want to fix it.” He wanted to see her bright and lively again, wanted whatever weight she was carrying gone from her shoulders.

“I’ve just had a rough day. People have them all the time, you know.”

“Maybe if you went on a run later it would help. I noticed you didn’t go on the pack run. Your wolf has to be going crazy.”

Crazy? Well, yeah, she was definitely that. Had been for a while. “Maybe I will later.” Without thought, he reached out and wound a strand of her hair around his finger like he’d often imagined doing. “So soft.” The smell of her vanilla shampoo tickled his senses. “I like your hair long. You used to always have it short.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Jaime, a little thrown. Uncomfortable by the intensity in his gaze, she looked away, casually scanning the restaurant. She almost growled as her attention fell upon a particular female—a female who was glaring at her with utter hatred in her eyes as Dante fiddled with her hair. “Well, well, well, look who’s here.”

Following her gaze, Dante growled. Glory. He was tempted to confront her—not harm her, he would never harm a female. But he was interested in ensuring that she understood just how pissed he was.

“Don’t,” said Jaime gently, earning his attention. “All you’ll gain from it is losing our pack’s alliance with Nick. Let him deal with her.” In truth, Jaime wasn’t convinced that Nick would be able to do much. The fact was that Glory was a law unto herself.

Jaime wasn’t a person who looked down on others, but with Glory it was impossible not to.

The girl was kind of like a doorknob—everyone got a turn. That, combined with her penchant for spreading false gossip and her love of stealing other people’s boyfriends, made for a very toxic person.

“How come you never did that whole ‘I told you so’?” She had told him so, had warned him that Glory was poisonous and he’d do better to avoid her. His own instincts had told him that, too.

But he’d been so hot and hard for the female sitting opposite him, and he’d needed a reprieve. Glory had happened to be there when he most needed it.

“I figure you’ve learned your lesson without me rubbing salt in the wound. Besides, it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t listen. You’ve always thought with your dick.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“In that case, do you wanna blow my mind?”

Jaime smiled. “You got that from Dominic, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” He laughed.

That gruff laugh was like a caress. God, how pitiful was she to be lusting after someone who didn’t want her! Maybe she could have gotten past it if it wasn’t more like a craving than a lusting. It reminded her of that feeling she got when she was unbelievably hungry and all she could think about eating was chocolate; that always made no sense to her, as it wasn’t like chocolate would ease the hunger or was good for her, and yet still she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Only instead of the hunger being in her belly, it was somewhere much lower, and instead of chocolate, it was Dante.

Thankfully, he seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to answer his questions and simply drove her back to pack territory. Or, at least, he seemed to accept it for now. No doubt he’d do as he said and pester her. While she was confident that she wouldn’t let anything slip, she still couldn’t help but worry that he would catch her at an extremely weak moment—like when she was so damn aroused that he’d be able to smell it and all she’d be able to think about was jumping on him. Her objective would have to be to spend as little time with him as possible, she decided. That and address her hungry libido this weekend before she broke down and assaulted him.

After three days of nothing more than polite smiles and having Jaime expertly avoid his company and questions, Dante was at a point where he wanted nothing more than to strap Jaime to a chair and torture her secret out of her. He could liken his experiences with Jaime to the act of holding a fish—it was smaller and weaker and therefore should be easy to grab and restrain, but it had a way of slipping out of his grip and going on its merry way.