Bianca’s mouth popped open, but only a sputtering sound came out. She snapped it closed again, a look of pure frustration darkening herpretty face. Dante bit the inside of his cheek to fight back a laugh. King had evoked the same reaction from him on quite a few occasions, with his unbothered alphahole schtick. It was maddening, and Bianca Bonnycastle obviously wasn’t prepared for it.
“Either you fire us right now or you cut the shit,” King stated flatly, holding the omega’s gaze and leaning closer still. “I was hired to keep you safe and that’s what I intend to do. You want us to stay out of your way, then do as we say. We’ll make it as painless as possible for you but you’re going to have to play ball, or I’ll terminate the contract right now myself. So, what’s it going to be?”
Dante figured there was a fifty-fifty chance she’d knee King in the balls and fire them on the spot. It would be a shame, both for King’s balls and their bank account. He waited.
Finally, Bianca turned silently and climbed back into the car. Dante thought he heard the Tweedles exhale in unison. King shut the door behind her before glancing Dante’s way. Dante mimed wiping sweat from his forehead. King winked, filling Dante’s stomach with butterflies, and then he was gone, off to help Van sweep the premises.
Dante took a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent of tobacco, whiskey and caramel mixing with the intoxicating aroma of poison apples. The combination made his heart race, and his pants feel a bit tighter. Van might’ve been right about this job being way more fun than expected.
Dante smiled to himself as he took up position at the car door, falling naturally into his role. He scanned the crowd of well-dressed patrons filing into the theatre, automatically taking stock of potential threats and opportunities. There would be plenty of time to enjoy himself once they’d made it through this first night and fully secured this contract. He’d make sure that everything went smoothly, just like he always did.He’d make sure Bianca and her parents wouldn’t be able to imagine life without them, once they’d gotten used to Pack King’s protection.
Dante put his game face on. It was time to get to work.
Chapter four
Bianca
Bianca hated Pack King immediately.
She hated the way the big one seemed entirely too happy all the damn time. She hated how the pretty one watched her with his uncanny eyes—the irises so dark brown they were nearly black—as if he could see right through her defenses. She hated the way the pack leader seemed so sure of himself, so perfectly composed.
Most of all, she hated the way her entire body came alive the moment she saw them. When she caught their scents, her legs had nearly given out and her core tightened with an ache unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Her panties were damp before they’d said a word.
Pack King smelled like dark gothic libraries and decadence. Bianca hardly knew what that meant, but she knew she liked it. And she hated that she liked it.
She couldn’t even bring herself to walk into the office they’d set up in one of her many unused rooms. She’d stood in the doorway like a moron, trying to breathe as much untainted air as she could manage withoutlooking foolish. There was no way she could’ve handled being inside that room, surrounded by their scents and the heat of their bodies.
And, gods, what bodies. The big one looked like one of those professional wrestlers on television. Bianca could imagine him tossing her around or pinning her down far too easily. The pretty one was significantly leaner, but still average alpha size, and he carried it unlike any alpha she’d ever met—lithe and graceful as a panther. He effortlessly exuded the sophisticated cool of a movie star in a cologne ad.
And that pack leader. Quentin King. Damn him to hell.
Nothing about that man should’ve appealed to her. She’d devoured every bit of intel she could find on Quentin and his packmates, and he couldn’t have been further beneath her level based on his background and upbringing. He looked exactly as she’d expected an urchin-turned-Marine-turned-bodyguard to look: like someone who’d graduated from the school of hard knocks and doled out his fair share of knockouts along the way.
If the big one wasn’t so abnormally massive, she would’ve marveled at the pack leader’s size. His broad shoulders and huge arms strained his suit, which Bianca could tell came off the rack of some chain warehouse store, and the dress shirt beneath suggested his pecs would be a marvel to behold. Despite the cheap suit, he’d stood tall with his arms behind his back, emanating danger and power unlike anything the many wealthy, influential alphas Bianca had known could even dream of projecting. She’d immediately wanted to lower her head, to kneel, to submit.
It was utterly terrifying and infuriating.
He wasn’t even her type. Bianca didn’t exactly have a type, but the pack leader wasn’t it, regardless. He had dark brown eyes, a wide nose, and full lips framed by a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. His hair was cut close on the sides, with short dreadlocks ontop, and his skin was a rich, deep brown. When he spoke, there was another surprise: a bit of sparkle that Bianca soon realized was some sort of mouthpiece. Upon further inspection, she saw that all four of his canines were fully gold plated, while each of his lower front teeth were gold framed. She should’ve found such a low class display repulsive.
Unfortunately, Bianca did not find it repulsive.
As a matter of fact, she found it quite appealing, just like their stupid gorgeous bodies and their stupid magnetic scents. The men of Pack King were the three most appealing alphas Bianca Bonnycastle had ever encountered. Every cell in her body seemed to vibrate in their presence, pulling her inexorably toward them. She wanted to touch them, to taste them, to breathe them in until she was absolutely drunk on their irresistible pheromones.
She hated them with every fiber of her being.
It had been a trial to her self-control to ride with the pretty one in the back compartment of the car. Even with Maude and Amelia’s neutral, familiar scents cushioning her on either side, she’d been unable to escape his intriguing aroma of coconut and cloves. It was the perfect match for his appearance, with his artfully tousled dark hair and his so-dark-brown-they-looked-black eyes standing out against his olive skin.
He’d sat across from her, his long legs casually spread, and his arms draped over the back of the seat, and Bianca had wanted to crawl to him. The urge had utterly baffled her. Bianca hadn’t felt such a surge of desire in a decade. Maybe it was the effect of time, but even that memory paled in comparison to this feeling.
She’d felt him watching her, but she couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t trust herself to maintain proper distance as his employer if she let herself look into those black eyes. Talking to him seemed just as dangerous,which was why Bianca had insisted on communicating via Maude and Amelia.
Just when she’d thought she was safe for the evening, the bloody pack leader had cornered her, looming over her in a cloud of sweet tobacco, whiskey, and caramel that made her feel gooey and lightheaded. She didn’t know why she’d capitulated when he called her bluff. She should’ve fired them on the spot and been done with this whole unsettling mess.
But then her fathers would’ve just hired some new imbeciles to show up tomorrow and what if they were worse? At least these alphaholes had agreed to stay out of her way as much as possible. It would just be easier to deal with the devil she knew, since it was only a matter of time before she mated and got rid of her fathers’ restrictions. Besides, her parents would be annoyed if she fired her security detail on their first day. She certainly didn’t need to provoke them right now. That was why she decided to let Quentin King win their little argument, and why she hadn’t tossed his pack out on their muscular asses.
That’s what Bianca told herself when she slid back into the car after their faceoff. She kept telling herself some variation of that same story all night. It only felt a little bit like a lie.
So far, her bodyguards had been true to their word. Once they’d entered the venue, Pack King had melted into the crowd, leaving Bianca and her assistants to work the room. The ballet wouldn’t start for another half hour, and the reception beforehand was an opportunity to engage with donors. Maude had discovered that a pack of widowed alphas who fit Bianca’s list was supposed to attend, and Bianca was determined to meet them.
