Page 19 of No Mane, No Gain
Olive smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Gerri’s words. “Thank you, Gerri. For everything.”
“Oh, you’re more than welcome, my dear,” Gerri replied, the smile evident in her voice. “Just remember me in your vows when you two eventually tie the knot, hmm?”
“Gerri!” Olive sputtered, her cheeks flushing bright red. “We’ve only just met!”
“Details, details,” Gerri said dismissively. “Now, get some sleep. Something tells me you’re going to need your energy in the coming days.”
With that cryptic statement, Gerri ended the call, leaving Olive staring at her phone in a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.
As she settled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, Olive couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Whatever was happening with Chaos, whatever this new world of shifters and paranormal romance held in store for her, she was ready to embrace it.
Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was of Chaos - his intense hazel eyes, his strong arms, and the promise of adventure that seemed to radiate from him.
NINE
Chaos stood at the edge of the opulent ballroom, his keen hazel eyes scanning the crowd. The charity event for promoting a love of books buzzed with energy with New York’s elite mingling and chatting over champagne and hors d’oeuvres. But Chaos barely noticed the glittering decorations or the soft strains of classical music. His attention had been completely captivated by one woman.
Olive Russo moved through the crowd with effortless grace, her gold dress shimmering under the chandeliers. She paused here and there to chat with guests, her smile radiant and her laughter musical. Chaos couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice drawled beside him. “I haven’t seen that look on your face in... well, ever.”
Chaos glanced at Baxter, who had accompanied him to the event. Baxter’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he followed Chaos’s line of sight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chaos muttered, but he knew his denial was weak at best.
Baxter snorted. “Please. You’ve been staring at that woman for the past ten minutes like a lion eyeing his next meal.” He paused, then added with a smirk, “Pun very much intended.”
Chaos shot him a warning look, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Baxter’s words. From the moment he’d laid eyes on Olive, something inside him had stirred. His lion, usually a calm presence in the back of his mind, had roared to life with a ferocity that had taken him by surprise.
Mine!
Mine!
Mine!
Mate.
Chaos shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. He’d never experienced such an intense, immediate reaction to anyone. It both exhilarated and terrified him.
“So,” Baxter prodded, “are you going to go talk to her, or just admire from afar all night?”
Chaos straightened his shoulders, adjusting his perfectly tailored suit jacket. “I’m going to introduce myself,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “She is the chairwoman of this event, after all. It would be rude not to pay my respects.”
Baxter’s knowing grin widened. “Oh, of course. Just being polite. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s absolutely gorgeous and clearly brilliant.”
Ignoring his friend’s teasing, Chaos began to make his way across the room. As he approached Olive, she turned as if sensing his presence. Their eyes met, and Chaos felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him.
Olive’s blue eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Chaos’s enhanced hearing picked up the slight quickening of her heartbeat, and he couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that coursed through him.
“Good evening,” he said as he reached her, his voice deep and smooth. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Olive’s lips curved into a warm smile. “Not at all,” she replied, her voice even lovelier up close. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Olive Russo, the chairwoman of tonight’s event.”
“Chaos Amato,” he introduced himself, taking her offered hand. The moment their skin touched, that spark of electricity intensified. Chaos had to suppress a growl of pleasure. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Russo. I’ve heard wonderful things about your foundation’s work.”
“Please, call me Olive,” she insisted, her hand lingering in his for a moment longer than strictly necessary. “And thank you. We’re always excited to welcome new supporters to our cause. Are you a big reader, Mr. Amato?”
“Chaos,” he corrected with a small smile. “And I try to be, though I’ll admit my reading these days tends to lean more toward technical manuals and financial reports than novels.”