Page 67 of Furry Equations
“I should write a paper on it. ‘The Impact of Alpha Mate Bonds on Scientific Objectivity: A Case Study in Complete Professional Ruin.’”
“Very thorough.”
“Stop laughing at me. This is a serious scientific crisis.”
“Of course, it is.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Want to know a secret?”
“What?”
“I love you too.”
She stilled in his arms. “That’s... I mean... you can’t just...”
“Can’t just what? Tell my stunning mate that I love her?”
“Yes! No! I mean...” She buried her face in his chest. “I had a whole speech planned. With scientific metaphors and everything.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She pulled back, eyes shining. “It’s completely illogical. Scientifically improbable. All my careful research protocols, ruined the moment you walked into my lab with your stupid perfect face and growly voice and protective instincts. And now I’m completely, hopelessly, unscientifically in love with you.”
“Unscientifically?”
“Utterly.” She smiled through her tears. “There isn’t a single peer-reviewed study to support how much I love you.”
Marcus kissed her then, pouring everything he felt into it - pride in her brilliant mind, awe at her brave heart, fierce love for everything she was.
“You are perfect and you are my everything,” he said. Tears rolled faster down her cheeks. He kissed each one away.
“Come on,” Marcus guided her back to her workstation, “let’s finish these protocols so we can go home.”
Her smile lit up the lab. “Home?”
“Home.” He kissed her temple. “Where I can protect you properly.”
“And by protect you mean hover incessantly.”
“Obviously.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
“Yeah.” She leaned into him. “I really do.”
FORTY-ONE
Natalie’s hands trembled as she gripped the edge of her lab bench, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Tomlinson’s face—twisted with greed and malice—faded from her nightmare into the dim light of the secure lab. The clock on her computer blinked 3:47 AM. She’d fallen asleep reviewing the new data.
“You’re fine. Everything’s fine.” The words came out in a shaky whisper as she straightened the stack of papers she’d scattered during her violent awakening. The soft hum of the state-of-the-art security system Marcus had installed filled the silence, a constant reminder of the protective measures surrounding her.
The private elevator dinged, and Natalie spun around, her fingers closing around the nearest weapon—a stapler. Marcus burst through the doors, his gray eyes scanning for threats before landing on her. His broad shoulders relaxed a fraction, but the tension in his jaw remained.
“Natalie.” Her name came out as a growl, concern wrapped in authority. “What happened?”
She turned back to her work, trying to hide how his presence already made her feel safer. “Nothing. Just reviewing theseformulas for the counteragent.” She shuffled papers, avoiding his gaze. “The molecular structure needs?—“