Stryker POV
HAVING her close is the sweetest torture.
I know she’s right outside my door. I can hear her heart beating, each breath as she inhales and exhales. Her sugary scent wafts into my office, even though the door is closed. I’m pretty sure I’d smell her from half a mile away, and it’s driving me crazy.
Staring at my computer screen, I delete the last line of the email I’m writing. All it said was, “Mate, mate, mate,” over and over.
I shake my head and lean back in my chair. I’m not in the right headspace to be communicating with the outside world. For the hundredth time today, my thoughts wander to the gorgeous woman Mother Nature gifted to me. Too bad there isn’t a return policy.
When Elowen volunteered to be my assistant, I should have told her no. I should have said I could
