He turned that down, too.
He had, he decided, spent enough time working for people he didn’t respect.
Lady Dahli was a powerful young alpha and a looker besides, but she had a cold arrogance to her that he didn’t trust. Funny thing was, while she didn’t seem to be all that concerned with paying her gambling debts, she got herself in a right froth about repaying him for his assistance.
She’d been astonished when he turned down her offer of a shag, astounded when he turned down the job, and outraged when he declined to have her fob him off with a purse of jewels that Beckett didn’t even have to glance at to know were as fake as her kindness.
“Whatdoyou want, damn you?” she snapped at him testily. “I pay my debts.”
At his raised brow she’d laughed despite herself, then looked down her nose at him and said, “I pay the important debts. I don’t care about money.”
She would when the gambling lords caught up with her, and he told her so.
When she waved this off carelessly, he shrugged and said that if she was going to get fluffed up about it, then he wouldn’t mind working some place out of the city—and make it a nice one.
She’d sent him to Avendene with a letter of recommendation.
She would, she’d told him, have sent him to Dalbryn Hall, her family estate, but her father didn’t allow alpha servants there.
She could have sent him to one of her brothers, perhaps, but she didn’t see any reason to give them the cachet of an alpha footman if she couldn’t have him. Instead, she was sending himto an old family friend. The duke would certainly appreciate Beckett.
More importantly, he’d appreciate Lady Dahli.
Beckett had never met a more brazen self-interested alpha in his life, and that was saying a lot.
He thought she’d sent him to one of the royal palaces at first. Beckett was nothing if not adaptable, though, and it didn’t take long for him to stop looking around, owl-eyed and impressed by everything.
Though that was more down to the fact Jack came home three months after Beckett had arrived, and from that moment on, Beckett had only ever had eyes for Jack.
Had only been with Jack.
A low churn in his gut and a flicker in his vision made his lips twist in an angry snarl.
Until last night.
And soon.
If this was just a matter of him being in rut, then he wouldn’t do it. It wasjusta rut. He’d had a couple before. He’d got through them alone. He could get through this one.
He didn’t need the duch.
The duch needed him.
So if the duch, who’d put theoneperson in the entire world aside from his mam who Beckett had ever loved, wanted Beckett’s cock?
This time, the duch was going to have to come and find Beckett himself.
The duch was going to have tocommandhim.
CHAPTER 16
ARDEN
Arden opened all the windows in his bedchamber and stood in the cross draft until his teeth chattered, although inside he was burning.
When that didn’t help, he rang for iced water and waved Magda away when she frowned at him and tried to bundle him into a robe, getting quite uppity about it and making comments about his lips—they’re blue, Your Grace!—and his skin—blue! Goosebumps! You’re shivering!—and eventually his wits—mad as a March hare, Your Grace!
He stood in the cold, he drank as much cold liquid as he could, and he ignored how miserable he felt about it, because it was the right thing to do.
