Page 28 of Star Claimed Omega
‘Efficient,’ he murmured. ‘I appreciate your hands-on effort.’
His eyes glittered, dark and amused, like a panther that had just swatted a mouse for fun.
She turned away and fiddled with a wrench before she melted into the floor, pretending she missed his soft chortle as he strolled off down the hall.
SANTIAGO
Fokkin’ hell.
Had he really spouted out ‘greasing pipes and hands-on efforts’?’
Santi masked his faux pas with a timbred chuckle and a turn on his heel.
He strolled out of his cabin with a calm, effortless swagger that hid the fact that his gut churned.
Why had he freakin’ let the banter drift so close to the line?
Why had he also sounded like a kid with a major crush?
He wasn’t some reckless nineteen-year-old letting his pulse steer the conversation. He knew better.
Yet he couldn’t seem to help himself around her.
It went against the norm of his legend; Santiago Alvarro, infamous across the fleet for his unadulterated charm and self-control.
He was a man who made desire appear effortless and left lovers convinced they’d been the ones in the driver’s seat all along.
He built his life on the quiet art of holding people at arm’s length with nothing but a smile and a lingering glance.
However, with Soleil, words tangled somewhere between his chest and throat, and all his curated finesse twisted into a raw and uneven mass of emotion.
Every time she walked into his cabin, when she bit her lip while scrubbing the corner of his desk, he almost lost it.
Or when she hummed as she washed dishes or rearranged his cushions.
Hell, if it didn’t play games with his careful restraint, which threatened to shatter like glass under pressure.
She didn’t know what she was doing to him.
Or maybe she did.
Either way, he was in trouble.
Her quiet, yet sensual presence made his blood heat and sent his lycan spirit flaring like a live wire at the sound of her voice, her curses even as she went about her duties.
He freakin’ couldn’t deal, so he left his home, hoping to get more tasks done at the office.
Gathering his work bag, he headed toward the Deck 27 express lift, where he jabbed the controls with a little too much force.
The doors whispered closed, sealing the chaos of her presence behind them.
He exhaled hard, letting go of the breath he’d been holding.
The elevator docked on the executive level, where the elegance of Signet’s office met him: dark glass, titanium alloy, and clean lines. Precision. Control.
He prowled into the boardroom, jaw tight, seeking quiet and focus.
He needed to remember whohewas.
