Chapter 8

Only a few hours after their conversation, Alexander snatched up a towel and strode out of the wet room where he had cooled his hot blood under a long, cold shower. It was four in the morning, and he had barely slept. How could he sleep? The girl was always on his mind. He had tossed and turned, as overheated and hungry for a woman as a sex-starved teenage boy. He was not amused by that reality, and he was bewildered and frustrated by the sexual intensity Miah Baker had fired in him. And he knew he could resist her. She had something—something he hadn't seen before—and he was a force not to be reckoned with. Miah was challenged.

And he damn well liked challenges. He was an alpha for a reason.

With a brooding frown stamped on his lean, strong features, he logged onto his notebook PC and brought up the photo of his bride-to-be. It was a source of irritation that the woman in the picture somehow contrived both to look like Miah and yet not like her. In the flesh, her face was softer and