Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Awkward Encounter #1

My heart stops.

It's him. McSexy from the bar. The man who...

Oh God.

Heat floods my face as memories from last night rush back. His hands on my skin. The taste of his lips. The way he—

No. Stop it. We're at work. This is not the time or place for a pheromone-induced meltdown.

I force myself to breathe, to look at him properly. He's even more gorgeous in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the office. Tall, broad-shouldered, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes that seem to see right through me.

"What are you doing here?" The words come out sharper than I intend, edged with panic. Did I fuck a stalker in a public bathroom?

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have an appointment."

Right.

Of course he does.

Because the universe hates me.

I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "Right. Of course. You must be..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know his name. Last night, in the heat of the moment, names hadn't seemed important. I try to give my calendar a discreet glance, but he chuckles.

"Logan," he supplies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "Logan Everett."

Logan. It suits him. Rough, masculine, sexy as fuck.

I stand, smoothing down my skirt with trembling hands. "Nicole d'Armand. Anti-Magic Security. You're here for a consult, aren't you?"

"Indeed." His lips quirk, and my eyes are drawn to his mouth, remembering how delightful they felt against my skin. "Nicole. It's a pleasure to meet you. Officially."

The way he says my name, like he's savoring it, makes my knees weak. I grip the edge of my desk, steadying myself as he holds a hand out to me.

Right. A handshake.

Professional.

This is my job.

I can do this.

Fuck, this is awkward.

"Likewise," I manage, proud that my voice doesn't waver and my hand doesn't tremble as I shake his. "Shall we head to the conference room?"

Logan nods, gesturing for me to lead the way. As I pass him, I catch a whiff of his scent—a heady mix of pine and something wild that makes my head spin. Doesn't smell like a city guy. Smells like someone I'd imagine is from the free plains of Montana. Or the deep isolation of Alaska.

Basically, someone who hunts. Not someone who navigates rush-hour traffic in the middle of one of the biggest cities in America.

Focus, Nicole. You're a professional. Act like it.

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