Page 31 of Protected By Her Mate

The kiss. It was the best thing I’ve ever experienced, but it wasn’t right. I didn’t have her permission and though she was enthusiastic after she got over the shock, it was ungentlemanly. A loss of control.

I’ve spent centuries working around and with women. I have seen their strength and resilience. Their dogged determination to prove themselves in a world dominated by men.

Charlie is no different. In fact, she has to work twice as hard because her chosen field requires a certain amount of physical strength. The challenges she must’ve had to overcome to become a firefighter has my chest filling with pride at my mate.

She is fierce and determined. She deserves my respect, not some slavering wolf taking her decisions from her.

Charlie doesn’t wake when we arrive at her building so I pay the driver, then look down at her, indecision warring inside me. To the driver, a man in his mid-fifties, I ask, “Are you married?”

He looks surprised to be asked a question from someone who barely acknowledged his presence during the half hour drive we took together. He nods guardedly, “Been married 27 years.”

“Would your wife want you to carry her if she fell asleep in the cab or would she prefer to be woken so she can walk herself?” I feel like a fool for asking such a thing, but he’s my only resource.

He cracks a grin. “Well, I can’t pick my wife up as I’m short and she has several inches on me, but if I could, she’d love it if I did.” His eyes touch Charlie for a moment, not enough to piss off my wolf. “Take your woman upstairs. She’ll thank you for it later.”

It’s the best advice I’m going to get, so I gently maneuver Charlie out of the cab, hefting her in my arms without jostling her. The cabbie opens the building door for me and I thank him, carrying Charlie inside.

It’s nothing to carry her up to the third floor where I push the key I fished out of her purse in the lock. As I shove the door open, a head pops up from the couch.

“Mom!” Luke exclaims, but when he sees us, his smiling face becomes a map of confusion.

Shit, I didn’t think of the child. I should’ve woken her up in the cab.

“What’s wrong with her?” His eyes are wide and fearful.

“She’s just sleeping.” I say it as quiet as I can. Charlie doesn’t move, so I whisper, “Which way is her room?”

Luke slides off the couch, a frown creasing his small brows. He leads the way, showing me down a hallway before pushing open a door. For a moment I stand frozen as the concentrated smell ofherhits me.

Her inner sanctum. The place that holds her most private moments.

I force my limbs to move and lower her gently to the mattress, careful not to jostle her more than necessary. I brush the hair from her face so it doesn’t bother her while she sleeps. Pulling her shoes off her feet, I drag a blanket over her and leave her alone in the room.

In the hall, I’m confronted by an irate seven-year-old. His arms are crossed over his chest, his lips are set and his brows are knitted. Before now I thought he looked like his father, but I can see Charlie in his serious face.

“Explain,” he says.

Biting back an amused smile, I nod toward the living room and we move further from Charlie’s door.

Lowering myself to the couch, I allow my body to feel the panic of the day for the first time. Someone targeted Charlie. Why? Because she’s my mate or because we’re investigating a murder?

In the end, it won’t matter. Whoever did this to her is going to die by my hand.

When I open my eyes, Luke is standing in front of me maintaining the pose he had in the hall.

“Your mom ran into some trouble today.” How much should I tell him? I’ve never had to explain something to a child before.

“What kind of trouble?” His frown grows fiercer, as though he’s about to accuse me of causing the thing that troubled his mom. His protectiveness toward Charlie warms me.

Deciding I probably shouldn’t tell him about the body, I give him the closest thing to the truth I can. “Someone tampered with her truck and gave her a scare.”

He shakes his head. “Mom doesn’t scare easily.”

The kid is sharp.

I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees and giving him a level stare. “Your mom wouldn’t want me telling you and I’m bound by her wishes. What I can tell you is that she handled herself very well in a tense situation and that I got to her quickly so she wasn’t alone.”

His eyebrows lift, then he nods and climbs onto the couch next to me. “Sometimes I worry when she goes to work.”

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