Free Cinder's Wolf: A Shifter Retelling of Cinderella (A BBW Shifter Fairy Tale Retelling Book 2) by Sylvia Frost

ribbons holding up his black mask. When it slid down his nose into his trembling hands, he still managed to catch it with his wolf’s reflexes. “I shouldn’t have done that. I hurt you.”
    “Really, I’m fine,” she said, but the trembling of her shoulders gave away the lie. “You just surprised me.”
    “Cynthia.” Like the cleanness of her scent, saying her name calmed him. The whole world was complicated, but saying her name, that felt simple.
    “You get the wine and glasses and meet me outside?” Cynthia inclined her head to the wine cabinet next to his mammoth refrigerator. “I think I need some air.”
    “Of course.” Rex’s hand fell to his side, where he tapped his pant leg. She wasn’t leaving. He exhaled through his nose, trying to keep himself from showing the giddy sense of relief loosening his joints.
    He realized a beat after Cynthia had already begun walking that he still hadn’t turned on the light, but Cynthia managed to find the door to the terrace herself just fine. Secure in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him, Rex allowed himself to not quite smile—he was still too shaken up by his lapse with his wolf from before—but grimace pleasantly.
    He hadn’t ruined things completely. Or perhaps not even at all. When he reached the wine chiller, he plucked out a bottle of premier cru Burgundy pinot noir he had bought at auction. The glass was cool in his hand, and he turned it to read the label.
    Domaine de la Romanee-Conti. Originally, the bottle retailed for a mere thousand dollars, but since Romanee-Conti only gave small allocations to very few wine stores, the bottle went for much, much higher at auction. If you could get it at all.
    This particular bottle had battle for its back story. Bane Stilskin had tried to bid it out from underneath Rex —not because the bastard actually wanted it, but because he knew Rex did. Rex had ended up spending a clean hundred thousand for the privilege of wiping the smirk off that cat’s face. He’d promised to save it for something else that was worth victory at any cost.
    For Cynthia, it was perfect.

Chapter 10
    O nce Cynthia stepped out onto the balcony, the cool, March night air dampened her lust and confirmed that she had made the right decision. It breezed against her cheeks, stealing away the wisp of hair Rex had only just tucked in and sending it flying. The sounds of the city drifted up to the rooftop from the streets below, cutting through the whirring of her own thoughts. Her knees straightened.
    The door she had shut behind her creaked open, and she could feel Rex’s gaze on her half-naked back, but she ignored it the best she could and focused on the view. Central Park was laid out nineteen stories below. The trees looked as tiny as a model train set, but the actual square footage of the park itself was larger than she remembered. It was a spot of dark wilderness in the insomniac neon of the rest of the city. Much like the man standing behind her.
    The easy mastery he had over her body unnerved her, but not as much as how good it had felt when his teeth had pinched the skin of her neck. A warning. A promise. If she had thought Rex was dangerous when he was in control, she had no idea how badly her body would burn for him when he was out of it.
    Behind her, a cork popped, and she turned to see Rex standing over a small table, pouring a dark red liquid into a wide-bellied wineglass that looked large enough to hold a full bottle. His long-fingered hands worked with calm precision once more.
    “What are we drinking?” she asked.
    “Pinot noir,” Rex said, not looking up as he topped off one glass and started on the other.
    Carefully, Cynthia ambled over to the chair on the other side of the table. She pulled it out and kept pulling until she had about a foot of distance between it and Rex. The scraping sound it made against the brick of the balcony made her cringe, but Rex didn’t even waver.
    She sat. “I don’t really know that