A Wolf's Obsession by Asa Maria Bradley

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He has good reasons to hate witches. But she’s got him under her spell.

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Bolt Varg in a tuxedo took her breath away. The tailored jacket perfectly fit his broad shoulders. Although the expensive material was too thick to reveal any of his toned body, he somehow managed to look muscular. Regie had to swallow twice before she could speak. “Well, I stand corrected. You do know how to dress appropriately for a ‘hoity-toity’ benefit.” She tried to sound haughty, but the new sexy spy looks of his threw her off-kilter. She sounded a bit breathless instead.

He smirked, hopefully because she threw his own words back at him and not because she’d become all flustered. “That dress looks amazing on you, Babe.” The sparkle in his eyes told her he knew exactly how much he pissed her off by using that nickname.

She was about to tell him off but swallowed the words when the mayor’s wife strolled by with a little wave to Regie and a very appreciative glance for Bolt.

“Let’s dance.” He held out his hand to Regie, one eyebrow raised.

She considered turning him down, but that would ruin the image of the happily engaged couple her PR team had worked so hard to create. “I didn’t know dancing was part of your skillset,” she said while placing her hand in his.

He interlaced his fingers with hers and placed his other hand just above the small of her back, pulling her close.

She worked hard to suppress the flush of heat that started low in her abdomen and flooded her body. Bolt’s quiet chuckle told her she’d not been successful. His lips brushed against her temple so lightly she thought maybe she’d imagined it. But his breath was hot against her neck as he whispered in her ear. “You haven’t even scraped the surface of my skillset yet, Babe.”

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