I blinked, my breath catching in my throat as my heart did a sudden, traitorous somersault. *Hold on, what is with this...*
Before I could pull away or mask my confusion, he reached out, resting the cool back of his hand directly against my forehead. The unexpected warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"Did you catch a cold last night?" he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto mine, completely devoid of their usual corporate arrogance.
What's he doing? I swallowed hard against the heavy pressure of his palm on my forehead, my brain momentarily short-circuiting under the sheer intimacy of the gesture.
"What are you doing?"
"Wolves aren't good with rain," he said, stepping even closer until his scent completely enveloped me. "I didn't know it was gonna rain. I just
