Vincent Roth holds me like I’m something deeply precious to him. His hand curls around mine, his arm at my waist, his heart beating huge and heavy against my cheek.
“Rosette.” The way he says my name is silken. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak it aloud before. “I want to know you.”
Tilting my head, I peer up at him. “Know me? You know me already. Both versions of me.”
“Yes, but I sense there are three.”
He might not be wrong about that. I do play a certain version of myself at work, and adifferent one at Octavio’s. But who is Rosette without either at play?
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been that version of myself since moving to this city,” I say after a time. “The one who’s just Rosette.”
He lifts his hand to my hair, threading his fingers through it. “I guess we will have to find her and lure her out.” Leaning down, he noses my hair and inhales. All at once, I can feel his cock against me through his nice suit pants, but he continues dancing as if nothing has changed.
“Who is Vincent?” I ask after a while. “I know he enjoys learning new things.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know that there is one.”
“Surely there is. A Vincent who isn’t Mr. Roth.”
He rubs one of his tusks thoughtfully. “I’ve always wanted to go up. Up, and up, and up.” He shakes his head. “Then I saw you. You walked into my office for your interview, and then it all became about you.”
What?
I stare up into his face, not quite believing what I heard. “When you interviewed me?”
“You’re all I’ve thought about since.” He leans down, cupping my chin in his hand so I can’t turn away, and looks right into my eyes. “I’ve been obsessed with you, Rosette. Perhaps that’s who Vincent really is. The orc who cannot get his mate out of his head.”
It’s as if an electric current has been sent through me.
“Would you… like to go back to my house with me?” Vincent asks.
Oh, right.What mates do, he said. I think I might have an idea of what that means after the night he’s shown me, and now I want to find out.
“All right. Let’s go. I need to get these heels off my feet.”
He shoots off a message to George on his phone before tucking it away in his pocket, then he leads me out of the ballroom. We wave goodbye to his coworkers as we go, who all turn to murmur to each other the moment we step out.
We’ll be the talk of the office for a while.
Then we head into the cool night air, which I’m immensely grateful for after all the wine I’ve had. Vincent simply holds my hand as we stand on the curb, waiting for George to arrive. When the black SUV slides into the pickup area, Vincent opens the car door for me and helps me inside before going around tothe other door.
“The house, please,” Vincent says to George. The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, nods, and drives off.
We don’t talk as we leave the city, but our hands stay linked, Vincent’s thumb gently brushing over my knuckles. As the road narrows along the river, George turns off into a driveway at an enormous, beautiful house.
Wow. Big bay windows look out at the street and then the river, and we first enter through a gate into a quaint yard, clearly maintained by a professional gardener. A wide-set door welcomes us inside.
The ceilings are vaulted, the interior decoration mostly white and minimalist. There are accents of black and red throughout, with black countertops and white cupboards, and paintings with red splatters and black-and-white photographs.
It is very much a Vincent Roth home, if I were to have imagined one.
The living room is sprawling, with a television hanging from the ceiling. Another big window looks out over the river and the city beyond it, immense buildings on the skyline.
“Do you want a drink?” Vincent asks, leading me into the kitchen.
“I think I’ve had enough tonight.” I scratch my cheek. “I’m actually a bit of a lightweight. I don’t drink at Octavio’s, and when I do go out, I only need one or two to feel tipsy.”
Vincent’s lip quirks. “All right. Then I suppose there’s nothing to do but to take you to my room.” He curls an arm around my back and draws me in closer, tipping his head down so our noses are only a few inches apart. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to do first.”
