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She reached behind her, touching a sore spot on her shoulder, where the Dream Bruin had bit her. She felt something there, a raised bump, maybe? But it was already feeling better. Probably a damn mosquito. If she’d really been bitten, she’d hurt like hell, right?

When her alarm clock went off at seven the next morning, Genna wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But she needed to get into the habit of getting up for work, and then memories of the dream snapped her wide awake.

Wow.

She took a hot shower, her sore muscles protesting another day of moving and organizing. Out of curiosity she wiped the steam from the mirror and turned to look at the spot on her shoulder. An odd pattern of pink bumps, no longer sore even, but probably from a damn mosquito repeatedly feasting on her bare shoulder all night long.

That’ll teach me to sleep naked.

* * *

Jeremy padded away from her apartment, feeling conflicted. He reached his car, parked in a dark patch of asphalt under an oak tree. No one around and hidden in the shadows, he shifted back, pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, and got into his car.

He knew what he’d done wasn’t usual. Claiming a mate was for life. He accepted that and was more than prepared to take care of Genna.

He hadn’t expected to develop feelings for her when he claimed her. She was, technically, still the enemy, even if she was now his mate.

Never mind, that didn’t change anything. Revenge for pack blood spilled by that fucking asshole took precedent over all else. Especially when the packmate murdered was his cousin and best friend.

He started the car and drove home.

* * *

It took her most of the morning to finish moving. She made another furniture-shopping run, stopping to get more cash from the safe-deposit box. By evening, she cooked her first meal in her new kitchen.

Okay, so it was a one-person omelet. It was her kitchen.

Now that she had time to sit and relax, Genna thought about the previous night’s dream. How could she dream like that again? She’d do it every night, if she had her choice.

She sipped her chamomile tea. Facing Bruin every day would be a challenge. No doubt his real body matched his dream body. Between her legs, her pussy contracted in a hot and pleasant way at yet another thought of the dream-fucking she’d enjoyed more than any real-life roll in the sack with Lester.

It was hard to go to sleep despite her exhaustion. She was too excited about starting work the next morning, too hopeful the dream would return.

Eventually she drifted, but when her alarm clock sounded at seven, she looked at it with disappointment. No dream lover had boinked her brains out, Bruin or otherwise.

“Well, damn.”

With a disappointed sigh she showered and dressed for work.

* * *

Genna decided to go in a little early and perhaps miss the worst of the dog crowd. Ivan didn’t greet Genna in the lobby, though Lindsey sat behind her desk already. The large dog could have easily been on the floor at her feet, but Genna didn’t want to risk mentioning his name for fear he’d come say hi.

“Good morning,” Genna said.

Lindsey smiled. “Good morning. Mr. Bruin called and said he’s running late this morning, but he left some things on your desk to get you started. You’re to call his cell if you have questions. And if you get stuck, call me and I’ll come up.”

“Thank you.” Genna raced for the elevators, breathing a sigh of relief when the doors slid closed behind her without her spotting any sign of Ivan. She’d brought her lunch and would hopefully not have to leave her office except for bathroom breaks. Maybe in a few weeks she’d be braver, but for now she wanted to focus on her new job.

And on not drooling over her hunkster new boss. Or worrying about passing out over a puppy.

There were several folders spread out on her desk in an orderly arrangement. She sat and read through them. The first was a specific list of several requirements Bruin had about her job. She’d signed a confidentiality agreement the other day, and he emphasized her silence was a requirement to keep her job. She could listen to music as long as it wasn’t disruptive or interfered with answering phones. She could take an hour lunch as well as two half-hour breaks during the day.

Wow, generous!

She would be available to him via phone twenty-four seven, three sixty-five for questions or issues, but those instances would most likely be rare. Still, she would receive a corporate cell phone. Travel would be a requirement—paid by the company, of course. Other specifics such as how to answer the phone, how to handle certain calls, it was a dizzying amount of information.

At the bottom of the first list, he included a handwritten comment.

I’m sure you’ll do fine, Ms. Pangborn. Relax.

She smiled at his tidy script. Lester always wrote like a trembling chicken.

When Bruin arrived around eleven, Genna had read through all the information and familiarized herself with the computer system.

He carried a Starbucks cup and wore dark sunglasses. Her heart fluttered as her mind briefly conjured the dream.

“Good morning, Mr. Bruin.”

He nodded. “Ms. Pangborn. Any problems or questions?”

“Not yet, thank you.” He almost seemed a tad…chilly.

Then again, she’d spent less than twenty minutes total with him. Who knew how he normally acted?

He paused at his office door. “I’m expecting a visitor in about twenty minutes. When he arrives, please send him straight in.”

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t want to ask the visitor’s name in case she shouldn’t know, but he looked at her.

“His name is Ivan.”

She shivered. “The dog?”

Then he smiled. “No, that’s a coincidence.” With that he closed the door behind him, and she ran her hands over her arms to smooth the gooseflesh. Her panties were already damp from just the thought of what his dream counterpart’s lips had done to her.

Nineteen minutes later, a large man walked in, nearly as tall as Bruin, with broad shoulders and familiar grey eyes, but she couldn’t place from where. His black hair was dusted with grey. It looked good on him despite how young he appeared, maybe Bruin’s age.

His stern demeanor concealed all emotion. She got the distinct impression he didn’t approve of her presence.

“I’m here to see Jeremy. Ivan Biendino.”

He made her nervous, no doubt about it. “Please go right in, sir. Mr. Bruin is expecting you.”

She held her breath until he closed the inner office door behind him. He was nearly as terrifying as Ivan the Dogzilla. Maybe Ivan was Russian for “can scare the living crap out of you with a look.” If so, both man and dog were appropriately named.

Ivan stayed in Bruin’s office for two hours. At one point she thought she heard raised voices, but she ignored it and continued working. When Ivan angrily emerged, Genna hoped she didn’t jump too much. This time the look he sent her was…

Sympathetic?

His face softened a fraction as he stared at her. “Have a good day, Ms. Pangborn.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir.” She noticed Ivan’s ass was as cute and tight as Bruin’s.

Bruin opened his door. “Ms. Pangborn, please bring a notepad with you.” He left the door standing open as he returned to his desk and dictated several notes for her to add to one of the files. He made no mention of Ivan.

By five o’clock, she wanted to leave but stayed a little later to finish a few things. The work was easy, and from the looks of some of their clients, she understood the need for stringent secrecy. Engineering agencies, chemical corporations, medical research firms—she still wasn’t exactly sure what Bruin and Associates did, but apparently they coordinated behind the scenes activities that had to remain silent.