“If you’d prefer I can break the tension by taking you to bed and you’ll find living with three alphas so much more pleasurable.”
“Pleasurable.”
“Fucking is pleasurable.” We locked eyes.
“I wouldn’t know.”
He growled as I stepped into the pajamas one leg at a time. I ignored the slick that was building there. I also ignored the way Etienne’s back rose as he took in a deep breath.
“Have you ever been scent profiled?” he asked. “To find out if you were matched to an alpha?”
“Do I look like I can afford a few thousand pounds to have my scent profiled?” I didn’t want to ask why he wondered.
“Princesse.”
We were close enough that I saw gold flecks in his hazel eyes.
"Dinner," he said, stepping back, breaking the moment.
“Dinner.”
He gestured toward the door like nothing had happened. "The others are waiting."
I walked to the dining room on wobbly legs. The silk pajamas whispered against my skin with every step. My hair was still damp but combed. I felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with clothing and a lack of make-up. It had everything to do with the three sets of eyes that locked onto me the moment I entered the room.
All three of them stared.
Hastings was seated at the head of a long marble table. His suit jacket was discarded, his shirt sleeves were rolled and showed his corded forearms. His gray eyes tracked me from doorway to table with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
Fritz was mid-sip of wine, but the glass had frozen halfway to his lips. His dark blond hair wasslightly rumpled, like he'd been running his hands through it. His gaze dropped to the lace at my collar, then snapped back up.
And Etienne, who had followed me in, moved to stand behind an empty chair, pulling it out with a gesture that felt almost reverent.
"You look..." Fritz started, then stopped. Cleared his throat. "You look good."
"Different," Hastings said, his voice rough. "Without the sweaters."
"I can put them back on if you'd prefer." The joke fell flat, my voice too breathy to land it properly.
Nobody laughed.
The silence stretched, thick and charged, until Etienne broke it by pushing my chair in as I sat.
"Let's eat.”
As platters were uncovered and wine was poured, I felt their eyes on me. Watching and waiting like wolves circling prey.
11
Hastings
The video conference callhad dragged on for forty-three minutes longer than scheduled. I kept my expression neutral as the CFO of our Singapore branch droned on about quarterly projections that could have been summarized in an email.
My finger tapped against the edge of my mahogany desk. The rhythm betrayed nothing to the twelve faces arranged in neat squares on my monitor.
"Mr. Hastings?" The CFO's voice crackled through the speakers. "Do you agree with the proposed timeline?"
My jaw shifted. "Send me the full breakdown by the end of business Singapore time. We'll reconvene Thursday."
