He smiles, softly. “You might be able to hide your emotions from Southerners, Princess. You forget that I’m a wolf. I can sense things. Your heartbeat. . . your scent. . .” He swallows, hard. “It changes.” My fingers inch down the side of his face, touching his rough stubble. “Don’t smell me.” He laughs and it sounds like a growl. “I can’t help it.”
