Dominic wasn’t someone who would ever fade into the background. She really wished he would. Because right then, the air between them was so sexually charged, it was almost stifling. His blatantly lethal sensuality beat at her composure, and it was a sheer wonder that her hands didn’t shake.

“We’d have fun, Mila.”

“We should stick to being strangers with sexual tension,” she said, focusing on the line where the clipper cut met the scissor cut, blending that border by combing sections of his hair upward and snipping off any ends that poked out of the fine-tooth comb. “Since I doubt you’re short of offers from women, it shouldn’t bother you.”

“I’m finding that it does.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s just because I turned you down. I’m guessing that doesn’t happen a lot.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Conceited bastard. “I’ll bet you’re one of those guys who gives his cock a name.”

“I call mine ‘the truth.’”

“The truth?”

“Because women can’t handle it.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “God, you’re weird.” Putting down the scissors, she combed out the lingering hair clippings. He vetoed styling products, so she spritzed his hair one last time and then styled it how he liked it. “Almost done.” Removing the attachment from the clippers, she then trimmed his neck and sideburns. She took a moment to review her work and, satisfied that she hadn’t missed any spots, used a hair dryer and small brush to sweep away hair clippings from his neck.

Grabbing the handheld mirror, she held it at the back of his head so that he could see its reflection in the large mirror he was still facing. “Happy?”

“Always.” Genuinely impressed, Dominic decided there and then that no other barber would touch his hair. Unless she barred him from the shop for harassing her, which was quite likely to happen.

She whipped off his cape. “Let me just sweep these bits of hair out of the way before you stand up or they’ll stick to the soles of your shoes.”

It hadn’t been a request, and Dominic had to admit that he liked that assertive note in her voice. Although she was very calm, there was something fierce about her. Something wild that told him she’d never be tamed, never bend to anyone’s will, never tolerate any bullshit or be pushed into doing anything she wasn’t 100 percent interested in doing. This female knew what she wanted and would settle for nothing less. He respected that.

He would bet that every single one of his pack mates would tell him he was wasting his time here. They’d tell him to walk away and forget about her. The thing was . . . he couldn’t. It wasn’t merely the thrill of the chase. No, she drew him. Made his wolf crave her attention. No female had ever done that before.

At the counter, he paid for the haircut and pulled a lollipop out of the sweet jar. “You didn’t tell me what time you finish work today.”

“And I’m not going to.”

He tilted his head. “What is it? You like to be the one who does the asking? Okay then, make my day, Mila. Ask me out.”

“All right. Get out.”

He laughed. “At least let me tell you your future before I go.” Grabbing a pen from the counter, he quickly scribbled his cell number on the palm of her hand. “Your future is clear.”

Stifling a smile, she narrowed her eyes. “You’re a ballsy motherfucker.”

“And you’re the first thing that’s truly interested me and my wolf in a long, long time.”

Taken aback, Mila didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t been a playful comment. He looked so serious. She wouldn’t have thought he did “serious.”

Just as Mila pulled her hand from his, the door opened. Her frown melted away as Ingrid Devereaux, her grandmother, walked inside. As usual, she was clad in vintage clothes with her hair styled in an old-fashioned updo. She was also adorned in antique jewelry that was similar to those she sold at the antique store directly across the road. Ingrid managed the shop, overlooking the fact that Vinnie often smuggled money via said antiques.

“Hi, Grams,” greeted Mila.

“Hello, doll.” Ingrid’s face split into a wide smile as she spotted the wolf. “Dominic!”

“Mrs. D.” Grinning, he straightened. “How was heaven when you left it?”

Blushing, Ingrid flicked a hand at him. “Always the charmer.”

His eyes briefly dropped to Ingrid’s burgundy blouse. “That color looks good on you.”

It did, actually, but her grandmother would surely snort at that corny . . . Oh my God, Ingrid was lapping this up!

Smoothing a hand down her blouse, Ingrid asked, “You think so?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. You’re totally working it.”

Giggling like a teenager, she lightly touched his arm. “Aw, thanks, sweetie.” Ingrid blew a kiss at Mila and gave her a look that said they’d talk in a moment. She then headed over to Evander, who was cleaning his station.

Mila lifted a brow at Dominic. “You’re flirting with my grandmother? Really?”

“You don’t have to be jealous, Mila,” he said. “The only girl I want is standing right in front of me. Frowning.”

“Yeah, well, I’m unavailable.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you are dating someone?”

“No, but I’m entering into an arranged mating.”

He stilled, his face hardening in a way that made her cat go on full alert. “An arranged mating? When’s the big day?”

“It’s not official yet, so there’s no set date, but it’s likely to happen.”

The tension left him, and his mouth curved. “Not official yet, huh? Well, arrangements like those fall through all the time, you know.”

She cursed, realizing she’d just stupidly presented herself as even more of a challenge than before. God, she was such an idiot. “You should drop this, GQ.”

“Maybe. But we both know I won’t.” He skimmed his fingertip down the side of her face. “Be sure to call me, Mila.” After saying a quick goodbye to Evander and Ingrid, he breezed out of the shop.

Evander started toward her. “Well, well, well. Lothario has set his sights on Mila.”

Ingrid hurried over, her heels click-clacking on the floor, eyes sparkling. “What did he write on your hand? Evander said he scribbled something on your palm.”

“It’s nothing,” said Mila, hoping they’d drop the subject.

Ingrid grabbed Mila’s hand. “Ooh, is that his cell number? I saw him here while I was across the street, and I figured he’d be flirting with you. I met him at Madisyn’s mating ceremony—that boy could charm the birds out of the trees with just a smile.” Ingrid cocked her head. “But I must say, you don’t look charmed.”

“Well, I’m not.” For the most part.

Evander’s brows lowered. “You’re not gonna call him?”

“No,” replied Mila.

Ingrid gaped. “Why not? He’s gorgeous and charming, and you’re both single.”

“Grams, you do realize that he only wants a quick fumble in the dark with me, right?”