Instead, however, she was exchanging rote pleasantries with regular patrons while being acutely aware of the locations of each member ofPack King. Bianca irritably snatched a fresh glass of champagne from a passing server. It was too early in the evening to be this annoyed.
Unfortunately, it only got worse. Bianca’s mother arrived on a cloud of floral perfume, exchanging air kisses before taking her arm and steering her to the edge of the crowd. Bianca steeled herself for whatever nonsense Astrid was worked up about today.
“Really Bianca, are you trying to bankrupt your fathers?” her mother scolded, beginning, as always, as though they were already in the middle of a conversation. “I know you’re your daddies’ princess, but twenty-four-hour security is just excessive.”
Bianca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I agree. As I told them, it isn’t at all necessary.”
“You know how they worry about you, and yet you insist on remaining unmated,” Astrid went on as if her daughter hadn’t spoken. “It’s really unattractive, Bianca. You shouldn’t get used to the level of indulgence your fathers give you. No mates are going to spoil you like this.”
Bianca sighed. It had only taken thirty seconds for this to become about her relationship status. It was actually kind of impressive how her mother managed to make any situation Bianca’s fault. She’d honed her technique over the last twenty-seven years, but Bianca was still surprised by the ingenuity.
“I’m hoping to meet a pack of interest this evening,” Bianca said, just to throw Astrid off balance.
Her mother abruptly cut off whatever insult she was forming, blinking her wide gray eyes a few times as she processed Bianca’s words. Then she leaned toward her and sniffed delicately.
“You do smell of alpha,” Astrid said accusingly. “No one we know, which is a bit concerning, I might say. You know you don’t have the best taste in men, darling.”
Bianca exhaled slowly through her nose, trying to keep her anger at bay. This was mild for Astrid. She’d said much worse on many occasions. Bianca was just on edge this evening. She couldn’t let her mother get to her.
“You’re just scenting my new security detail. The pack I’m looking for is–,” Bianca snapped, and Maude appeared, flashing the name from her notes app. “Pack Willoughby. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting them, but I assume you know them?”
Bianca could almost see the dollar signs in Astrid’s eyes. Her mother was an expert on all families over a certain net worth. She eyed Bianca appraisingly.
“Why, elskling, I hadn’t expected such a…maturedecision,” Astrid said with her approximation of a warm smile. She’d switched to Norwegian endearments, so Bianca knew she was especially pleased. “Pack Willoughby was good friends with your father’s fathers’ pack. Their second omega passed a few years ago, I believe.”
Bianca grimaced. These old-timers had already outlived two mates? She needed to find out more about their health before pursuing them seriously. She didn’t want to juggle their saggy balls for the next twenty years, but she wouldn’t write them off just yet. Perhaps they’d used up all their energy on their first two mates and would die soon. Maybe the third time would be the charm.
“I do think they’re here somewhere. Come and I’ll introduce you.” Astrid clamped a greedy claw on her arm and frowned. “Goodness, Bianca, how much have you been working out? Your bicep is hard asa rock. How many times do I have to remind you that men don’t like muscular women? Alphas expect their omegas to be soft.”
Bianca took another deep breath. This, too, was a well-worn argument, and one that never ceased to annoy her. Norwegian women tended toward sturdier stock, so Astrid’s expectations were truly baffling.
“You were a prima ballerina when you met your first mates. They didn’t care that you had toned arms.” Bianca kept her voice even when she replied, though she felt like screaming.
Astrid gave an affected laugh that grated on Bianca’s nerves. “I had other attractions that you lack, like demureness, femininity, and passion. You’re too hard and cold, elskling. It’s why you didn’t go farther in ballet, and why you haven’t found mates. Oh well, it can’t be helped now. Stand up straight and push your shoulders back. You need to show off the assets you do have. There they are!”
Bianca regretted every decision that had led her to this point in her life. She suddenly wished she was anywhere but in Astrid’s grasp in this damn theatre surrounded by these boring people. She thought she might start screaming if she had to hold her tongue much longer, and she hated the fact that she’d let her mother get to her.
Astrid’s words stung because there was truth in them. Bianca’s cold calm didn’t endear her to others. She’d effectively suppressed her emotions for so long that she might never rediscover anything like passion. Nor did she want to.
Passion led to foolishness. It led to dumb mistakes and hurt feelings, and Bianca wanted no part of that.
What Bianca wanted was for Astrid to choke on her champagne. It wasn’t as though her mother was a model of feminine fire or anything. Whatever passion Astrid possessed must’ve been reserved for her mates; she’d always been distant with Bianca. Which was just fine, since Biancahad no desire for a closer relationship. Astrid’s approval was every bit as exhausting as her displeasure.
Bianca shouldn’t have told Astrid about her interest in Pack Willoughby. It had been a momentary lapse in judgement, borne out of spite. She didn’t want to meet the old geezers on Astrid’s terms, didn’t want to be weaving through this crowd of people, and she definitely didn’t want to be in her mother’s grip for another second.
“Ms. Bonnycastle.” A smooth voice came from her other side and a light touch at her elbow sent electricity coursing through her body. She turned to meet the pretty bodyguard’s dark gaze. “I need to escort you to the stage now.”
Bianca blinked at him, dazedly. She’d been a breath away from losing her shit, but he had certainly distracted her from that. She nodded at him sharply and pulled free of Astrid’s hold.
“Introductions will have to wait, I’m afraid.” Bianca gave her mother a tight smile. “I’ll find you at intermission.”
The pretty bodyguard placed a hand on her lower back and steered her through the crowd. Bianca knew that Astrid wouldn’t be deterred so easily, but it was still a relief to escape her, however temporarily. Between the champagne and the emotional rollercoaster her mother put her through, Bianca felt a little unsteady. That must’ve been why she didn’t insist that her security guard take his big, warm hand off her back.
All too soon, they were in the relative dimness and quiet bustle of backstage, and his hand was gone, leaving a desperate ache in its wake. Bianca tried to tamp the emotion down, to bury the heat and excitement he’d awakened beneath layers of ice and composure. Around them, dancers stretched, and stagehands scurried about doing their final checks. On the other side of the curtain, Bianca could hear the murmur of the audience members who’d already taken their seats.
“I thought I had another ten minutes before I was due back here,” Bianca said, after they’d stood in silence for several long minutes. She didn’t look at him, but she knew those black eyes were watching her.
“You did,” he replied simply.
