He’d moved so fast that I might have missed it. One moment he was standing near me, the next, he loomed over my father, his claws dimpling the older man’s throat.
Whereas when he’d grabbed his friend Brakkor by the throat and lifted him off the ground, Garrak had lost control of his rage, this time… This time, his expression was mild, as if merely interested, just trying to communicate. He didn’t lift my father from the ground, and I halted with my hand on my Mate’s arm, not even sure if I wanted to stop this.
My father’s face was turning red, but I couldn’t tell if it was lack of oxygen or anger.
“Let me make something very clear,” Garrak said calmly, bending closer. “Stevie is my Mate.Mine. You will never touch her again. You will never threaten her again, and you sure as fuck will never insult her again. If you do, I will make it very hard for you to breathe. Do you understand?”
As threats go, it was mild, but completely believable, especially when Garrak allowed his tusks to gleam in the soft overhead light. My father’s face abruptly paled.
Honestly? I had no idea how to defuse the situation, or even if I wanted to. Maybe Garrak hadn’t intended todiffusethe situation, and had just grabbed my father to make a point or shut him up. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry, because at that moment, there was a throat clearing from the foyer.
“Gentlemen? The Monsieurs LeClair are ready to begin play.”
Garrak dropped his hold on my father as if nothing had happened, and stepped back, straightening his tie and offering me his arm. “Come on,dkaar,” he murmured, and I stepped up to his side. “I haven’t told you tonight how beautiful you look in that gown, have I?”
My throat was tight. How could I pretend I hadn’t hurt him by running away? Still, I tried to keep my tone light so he could focus on the game when I took his arm. “You told me when you bought it for me. Butyoulook positively stunning in that suit, Mate.”
His nostrils flared, and as we walked, he bent lower to whisper to me, “Do you have any idea how much I want you when you call meMate? I keep thinking that as good as you look in that gown, you’re going to looksomuch better out of it, love.”
Liquid heat pooled between my thighs, and my stomach clenched in anticipation of his growled promise.
But that was when we reached the study, where the game would be held, and there were a dozen people mingling. I couldn’t kiss him, not the way I wanted to. Not here, not now.
Instead, I smiled softly up at him, up at my future.
“Good luck,” I whispered, knowing that had to be enough.
Because I couldn’t sit here and watch him play, not with my father expecting me to help him cheat.
I already knew I could fuck my father over by winking or blinking at random points, but would that be any more ethical than what he’d made me do before? No. I wanted out of this, and I had to trust that Garrak would understand.
I was trusting him to understand quite a lot about me, actually.
Chapter Fifteen
Garrak
I was feeling strangelyat peace.
Yes, I’d just threatened my Mate’s father, instead of ripping him limb from limb like I wanted. And yes, I was about to step into another high-stakes poker game which had the potential to fund the dream I was building on Eastshore. And yes, I still had to figure out how the fuck I was going to get my fifty thousand out of Hendricks.
But right now?
With my Mate on my arm, looking like a million dollars, knowing every male here was thinking how lucky I was? I was feeling calm. Just having her here was enough for me. Her scent, her feel, her taste.
Soon, I would kiss her. Soon, I would claim her. Soon, I would tell her how important she was to me.
In the meantime, though, I had a shit-ton of money to win.
I’d never played against Pierre and Henri LeClair, but as soon as we stepped into the room, it was obvious which ones they were; two older men, remarkably similar-looking, stood on either side of the fireplace, puffing on cigars, each with their arm around a woman a third their age.
Remembering the way my Mate described their playing style, I grinned, knowing my tusks made me look intimidating. A man—clearly in the hosts’ employ—began to seat us around the octagonal table in the center of the room. I took my seat, but rather than allowing Stevie to move to one of the spectator seats with the two women who had been fawning over the LeClair brothers, I pulled her into my lap while the other men were seated.
Besides the two Cajuns and Hendricks, there were three others of various ages, each looking as if they could stand to lose quite a lot of money.Excellent.
MyKteerthrummed happily, and I was pleased that I could maintain enough control not to be pulled in a dozen directions. I had a game to play, and as much as I wanted to bend Stevie over the table, it would mean forfeiting my chance to win.
Still, I couldn’t help nuzzling her neck, and my heart leapt when she sighed happily and leaned against me.
