Zoe suddenly realized that she’d been staring at him like a lovesick teenager. She also realized that he still had no clue who the hell she even was. Oh, smooth. She straightened her shoulders, hoped to Christ that her voice came out semi-normal.
“I’m Zoe.” Oh, good, she sounded like herself. “Wolf said for me to come here and meet you.”
Scars stared down at her, equal parts horrified and delighted. Zoe Parish, in the very delectable flesh, was standing in front of him, and she looked like the best thing he could ever possibly imagine.
The thought that he’d be seeing her almost every day was the best news that he’d ever heard, and made him believe that there actually was a God. She was also totally f*****g off-limits, since Wolf would skin him alive if he so much as touched one hair on
