Page 29 of Beast

Mya looks empathetic. “He’s the club president, there is a lot he has to take care of.”

“Then perhaps he shouldn’t have kidnapped me if he’s so busy.”

Although, maybe this is the chance for me to learn more about my enemy before our meeting.

“So tell me about him,” I say, shoveling in another mouthful of waffles and syrup.

“What do you want to know?”

What his weak points are. What buttons to push. The list is endless. “Why does he want a wife?”

Her eyes widen, and she looks around as if we’re being watched. “If a president is unwed at the time of being voted in then he needs to be married within six months.”

“You mean to tell me this Beast guy is serious about me marrying him?”

“He could lose his position in the club if he doesn’t uphold tradition.”

“Why not marry someone who wants to be the president’s wife? He’s a hot guy for a kidnapper. Surely there are women who would be happy to marry him.”

“Oh, there would be. Lots of club girls would kill for the opportunity. Not to mention the outsider women who hang around wanting to get close to a Knight.”

“Then why me?”

“He wants a marriage of convenience. Not one that involves feelings. Marrying a club girl or an outsider would only confuse the situation.”

Mya seems to know a lot about him.

“You two are close?”

“He is my prez, but he is also my friend.”

“Do you and he…” I don’t know how to ask but thankfully Mya understands.

“Never. He doesn’t indulge in the club girls. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Since when?” I ask, trying to learn more about the man I’m meant to marry.

“Since as long as I can remember. And I’ve been here for almost five years.”

“And you’ve never seen him with a woman?”

“Never.”

“Maybe he has a girlfriend in town?”

“There’s been rumors lately because he’s been disappearing every night for a few hours. Whispers suggest he has someone in town. But I don’t know if he has or not. I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“He has a complicated past that stops him.”

I spoon in another mouthful of waffles. “Then where has he been disappearing to every night if he isn’t visiting with a girlfriend?”

She shrugs. “He hasn’t said. If I didn’t know about his past then I’d think he’d met someone, because every night he rides off on his Harley and doesn’t return for a couple of hours. But it’s very unlikely.”

I pick a strawberry off the plate and bite into it. “Go on.”

“It’s not my story to tell. I’ll let him tell you when he’s ready.”

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