Page 71 of Unbonded
He can probably sense the hero worship leaking from my pores, but he just gives me a kind smile and turns my hand over to study my ring. “I believe Corbus had it cut from the same seam that gave us the famousAurora Australis.” He looks at me and his smile grows. “Once again, Janssen has displayed stunning good taste.”
If he wasn’t holding my hand, I’d probably levitate off the floor. Somehow, I manage to find my voice to say, “I think Corbus prefers pink diamonds, but I’ve always loved black opals.”
“I like to think of them as caged lightning.” Garth smirks, as if he knows that’s exactly how I’d describe his scent. Like a bolt of lightning wrapped in a very nice pair of bespoke suspenders. “Once you’ve settled into your salon, we should talk about a collaboration.” He leans in, his voice a teasing rumble in my ear. “Especially if we can get Paragon gems at pack rates.”
I laugh, but Suzanna is staring at us like she wants to claw my eyes out – or bite the ring off my finger. I’m tempted to flip her off, but Grace steps between us and clicks her tongue at the other omega. “Isn’t it fabulous, Suzanna? I love seeing someone get everything they deserve.”
With Lee still sniveling into a bloody Kleenex, it’s clear to everyone she’s not just talking about the rings on our fingers. Suzanna takes a step towards me, but before she can say whatever is brewing behind her rage-filled gaze, Bram appears at my back. I sense him before I see him, but there’s no mistaking the impact he has as he slides a comforting arm around my waist. Lee’s eyes bug out of his head, while Suzannastops in her tracks. Even Garth Rose stiffens before he turns all the way around and takes in Bram’s face. “Ah, Webber.” He looks him over carefully. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d wear Valentino.”
“Valentine,” I correct him, smoothing down Bram’s lapel. “He’s wearing me. I mean… my designs. He’s wearing one of my jackets.”
Grace is openly laughing at my flub, but Bram’s chest seems to have puffed out another couple of inches, so I can’tcompletelyregret it.
“Well, if you can make Webber look that good, we should definitely drop by your salon,” Garth says, drawing Grace back on his arm. “And now we all should return to the party.”
There’s just enough authority in his voice to get people moving, but before Grace departs, she winks at me with all the glee of the girl who just bested the playground bully.
Bram is less amused, tucking me tight to his side as he glares at the LaGrange pack. I can feel his heat through the fabric of his jacket, along with something that might be the very angry thumping of his heart. “The next time you even think about speaking to Kate, you better have your lawyers on speed dial.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Suzanna huffs, glaring at me. “Her mutt of a beta hit my mate! Unprovoked.”
Oh, lady. If you only knew…
But Bram seems to swell up another whole clothes size, his dominance leaking into the hallway like a smothering mist. Instead of his familiar leather and ink scent, some of that trapped lightning Garth was talking about dances across my tongue. And for a moment he doesn’t sound like the Bram I know at all when he says, “Then think what her alphas will do if you insult her again.”
Suzanna’s mouth shuts with a snap, but a cold voice says at my shoulder, “And never underestimate the vengeance of a pissed-off omega.”
I turn to find Dash and Corbus stepping up behind me. While I didn’t get a chance to see Dash’s jacket make its grand entrance into the party, the look of horror in Suzanna’s eyes almost makes up for it. And Dash looks every inch the principal danseur as he lifts his chin and glares at the other omega. “If you need it spelled out, this is me uninviting you to the party.”
“But Mr. Devereux! Mr. Janssen!” Suzanna is all trembling lips and beseeching eyes, but my pack is an impenetrable wall at my back, their silence speaking volumes. Since her packmates don’t seem to be offering much help, Suzanna flicks a disgusted hand at Lee, who’s still groaning into his bloody Kleenex. “For God’s sake, stop whimpering, would you?”
I just shake my head, but as I turn to go, I can hear him struggling to get to his feet. “Kate! Don’t forget, we built that house together. I deserve my share.”
Self-serving to the very end.
There are a lot of things I could accuse him of, but what’s the point in wasting my breath? Dash’s hand tightens in mine, and I cast the LaGrange pack a fleeting backwards glance. “You made your nest, Lee. For all I care, you can suffocate in it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - KATE
We left the party not long after our run-in with the LaGranges, so the next morning we’re up early, exchanging hasty kisses as we head off in all directions. The company has booked a spa treatment for the dancers, Lachlan has a mandatory training session, and despite it being the weekend, Bram and Corbus have meetings and paperwork waiting in the office. I catch a ride with Dash to Sweet Eternity, still smiling from his effusive kisses when I find a frowning Florence waiting for me in reception. One glance at the newspaper in her hand and I know that we’re about to have a difficult conversation.
She slaps the paper on the desk, a picture of our pack staring back at me. It must have been taken as we left the party, because Dash is wearing his jacket, and there’s a fierce gleam in my eyes. “I wish you’d talked to me before you started promoting your business all over the society pages, Kate.”
I nod, because I haven’t handled that part well, but then gesture towards her office. “I’m happy to discuss it further in private.”
She sighs, but leads me into her office, some of her anger melting into resignation as she looks at the ring on my finger. “Itsays you’re wearing a Janssen Jewel. As in, one of the million-dollar rare gems handpicked by Corbus Janssen himself.”
I sink onto her elegant visitor chair, staring numbly at the ring on my finger. “He didn’t tell me that part.”
Florence snorts, but turns away to start making tea. It’s a good sign, since she rarely shares her Earl Grey with anyone other than her most valuable clients. “So, you’re leaving?”
“Not necessarily. I’m starting my own brand, but it won’t be bonding dresses.” I think I see a little more tension leaving her shoulders as she hands me a steaming cup. “I want to make other things. Unexpected things. Clothing for people who don’t think fashion is for them. And maybe fashion for people who think they’ve seen every style that’s out there and are looking for something new.”
She sips her tea, studying me with a shrewd eye. “That won’t be easy to market.”
“I guess I’ll have to learn as I go along, but there’s always word of mouth.”
“And a spread in the society pages of the Times,” she adds wryly, tapping a finger on the newspaper. “There’s a quote here, from your business manager, Lachlan Cook. He says you’re the designer to keep an eye on. The city’s newest rising star.”
