Page 35 of Knot Your Romeo

“Five minutes,” she says finally. “That’s all.”

My car is parked in a faculty spot that, technically, I’m not supposed to use, but board membership has its privileges.

Emmie—Jolie—slides into the passenger seat with obvious reluctance, keeping as much distance between us as the confined space allows. The moment the doors close, the smell of the industrial-strength suppressants she’s using fills the car. But I can detect traces of that impossible sweetness that haunted my dreams for weeks. It’s weird, it’s something so unique it makes every possessive instinct I have roar to life. Just as it had in that bar. When my feet walked toward a girl I knew was too young for me. One night was all I thought I needed. Looking at her now and knowing how I haven’t slept properly since that night, I know I need so much more.

“Start talking,” she says, staring straight ahead through the windshield.

“First, I want you to know that I had no idea you were coming here. No idea your mother was our new housekeeper. If I had known—“

“You would have what? Fired her before we arrived?” There’s bitter amusement in her voice. “Or maybe you would have arranged for a different kind of welcome party?”

The accusation hits like a slap. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what? Because from where I’m sitting, this looks like an incredibly convenient coincidence. The kind that happens when wealthy Alphas decide they want to add a particular Omega to their collection.”

“My collection?” The suggestion is so far from the truth, it’s almost laughable. “Emmie, I haven’t been with another Omega since that night. Haven’t even looked at another woman.”

She finally turns to meet my gaze, and I can see the war between want and mistrust playing out across her expressive features. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because it’s the truth.” I resist the urge to reach for her, to touch her and prove through scent and contact what wordsapparently can’t convey. “That night in Boston...it wasn’t just casual sex for me. It was...”

“What? Meaningful? Special?” Her laugh is sharp with pain. “Special enough that you left money on the nightstand like I was some high-end escort you’d hired for the evening?”

The hurt in her voice cuts deeper than I expected. “The money wasn’t payment, Emmie. It was—“

“It was humiliating,” she interrupts, her composure finally cracking. “I woke up thinking we’d shared something beautiful, something real. I let you knot me. It was my first time and then you ruined something beautiful by leaving four hundred dollars and a business card for a spa, like you were taking care of some unfortunate problem.”

I was her first Alpha.

“That’s not—“ I start, but she’s not finished.

“Do you have any idea what that felt like? To realize that the most incredible night of my life was just a transaction for you?”

“It wasn’t a transaction,” I hiss. “It was the opposite of that.”

“Then why did you leave? Why disappear without a word if it meant something to you?” The question hangs between us, loaded with weeks of hurt and confusion. How do I explain I left because staying would have meant admitting I was already half in love with a stranger? That the money was every cent I had in my wallet and was left there so she could have a massage and soothe away the aches I knew she would wake with? That every instinct I had was screaming at me to claim her, mark her, make her mine in ways that would have terrified us both?

“Because I’m fifteen years older than you and powerful enough to destroy your life without trying,” I say finally. “Because you deserved better than being in someone’s midlife crisis. Because I thought the kind thing was to let you go before I did something we’d both regret.”

“And now?” Her voice is barely audible. “What’s changed?”

Everything,I want to say.Everything changed the moment I saw you from my study window, the moment I realized fate has dropped you directly into my world. Everything changed when I understood that walking away was just a coward’s way of postponing the inevitable.

“Now you’re here,” I say instead. “And running away isn’t an option for either of us.”

“Isn’t it?” She reaches for the door handle. “Watch me.”

“Emmie, wait.” This time I do reach for her, catching her wrist and wrapping my fingers around it. The contact sends electricity shooting up my arm, and I see her pupils dilate in response. “Your mother’s job, your safety, your education—it’s all connected to my estate now. You can’t just disappear.”

“Are you threatening me?” But even as she asks, her body is responding to my touch, leaning slightly toward me despite her obvious anger.

“I’m stating facts.” I release her wrist, immediately missing the contact. “Like it or not, we’re going to have to figure out how to coexist. The question is whether we do it as enemies or...”

“Or what?”

“Or we continue what we started in Boston.” The suggestion hangs in the air between us, loaded with possibility and danger in equal measure. I can see the conflict in her eyes. I see her desire for me fighting against the hurt I’ve already caused.

“I’m not interested in being anyone’s secret,” she says finally. “I’ve had enough of Alphas who want to use me.”

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