made his way back into town with a new resolve in his heart.
Yup.
In his heart.
He was going to seduce his mate.
Chapter Eleven
London
Ten o’clock took its sweet ass time to arrive. London had been at the museum for hours, tidying up his office, answering emails. He had even planned out his next exhibit and started to research his next paper. He hadn’t felt that alive, that invigorated, that motivated in… Well, if London was honest, he had never felt quite so stimulated before.
Every time he looked at the clock and saw that he had more time to burn, he would start another task to keep his mind occupied. Finally, the time arrived, and he knew it before the chime of the large ancient grandfather clock in the corner of his office. It had been a gift from one of England’s kings centuries before. Typically, the smell of the old wood permeated the office, but it was completely covered up just then. The sweet smell of vanilla and honey had taken over.
That could only mean that Bethany was near.
London pounced out of his chair and went to the door. He opened it just as Bethany was putting her hand up to knock. She faltered and took a step back. London reached out to steady her, and in the rapidity of both of their movements, they ended up pressed together tightly. His arms were closed around her waist, and her breasts were crushed to his chest. She was just as breathless as he was, and he could see the light tremor of her heartbeat against the smooth skin of her neck. He wanted to reach out and kiss her at that very spot to see how she would react.
Would she blush?
He was positive she would. Her cheeks would go red, and her smell would sweeten in an impossible way. But London knew that he had to pace himself if he was going to get her to fall for him. He cleared his throat.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you or make you fall.”
That last part was a lie. He had every intention of making her fall. For him. For the life they could have together.
“It’s fine,” she answered as she pushed away from him.
She ran her hands down her legs, pulling at yet another pencil skirt. This one was a patterned color of red. Her blouse was white, and if he squinted just right, he could almost make out her bra through the silky material.
London was a big fan of Bethany’s work attire. It seemed she had a pencil skirt for every day of the week and every color of the rainbow.
“I hope you had a good night.” He motioned for her to come into his office, kicking himself silently for the silly comment he had just made.
“It was fine.” She sat at one of the chairs that framed his large wooden desk—another gift from another king—and took out her tablet. She flipped the device over, revealing the smallest keyboard. She began to type furiously at it, her fingers moving with so much speed, London wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t have shifter blood.
“Are you going to sit down, or are you going to stare at me all day while I work on this?”
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and made his way to his desk. He chose not to sit at the large, leather office chair, but rather right beside Bethany. Her head snapped up as he settled. She seemed confused by his choice of seat.
“This way we can both see what you’re doing on that tablet of yours.” He gave her big wide smile, hoping she didn’t see right through him. He wanted to be close to her because he wanted to bask in her scent. It tickled his nose in the most pleasant way. He had to sit on his hands to keep from reaching out to her. He had the insane compulsion to touch the silky mass of brown hair that waved around her face.
“As I mentioned yesterday, I really do think that a benefit for literacy would be good. Not only is the charity in dire need of funds right now, but it would also go very well with your own exhibit. I thought that we could invite some of the women who have learned to read to speak for the charity at the event. There is one person in particular. Ananya Patel. She learned to read at one of the schools funded