Page 50 of Slow Heat
Miner clinked Vale’s glass again. “To surprises, then, and to wolf-god’s blessings.”
Jason offered his seat to Vale, going to stand by the fire instead. He was a quiet young man, from what Vale could tell. He didn’t insinuate himself rudely into conversations the way many alphas did, or insist on Vale’s attention being directed at him. Though his gaze devoured Vale greedily at every opportunity, he grew shy when Vale caught him.
Where was the desperate baby alpha who’d shown up outside his window, eager to know anything about him, driven by the impulse to get closer to his omega? Right there, Vale bet, beneath the layer of shy distance he kept. That was the Jason he should get to know, the one he became when he was alone.
The conversation shifted from Rosen’s recipes to their preferences at the theater, and Vale wasn’t sure if Yosef or Yule was a bigger fan. They discussed the latest plays and musicals, both holding vibrant and well-considered opinions of everything from the leading actors to the pacing and the book. Vale enjoyed theater, but not with the same intensity. He didn’t mind if the lead bungled a line, so long as the hour and a half took him away from the world for a little while and the experience gave him something new to write about.
He wondered if Jason liked the theater. He turned to gauge his interest.
Jason didn’t seem to be paying any attention. Instead, he looked mouthwateringly gorgeous leaning against the wall with his heart in his eyes, and his lanky body encased in that sweetly tailored suit that showed the spread of his shoulders and the bulge of his alpha cock.
Vale’s heart tripped over a tangle of feelings, both primal and surface, a mess of things he wanted and didn’t want, longed for and feared. He cleared his throat and pretended to study the painting over the sofa, a riot of color and form that made little sense. His pulse raced and his mind whirred from the contact high of Jason’s stare.
“Dinner will be served shortly, sir,” a voice said from the doorway.
Vale turned to see a beta-for-hire, recognizable by the traditional black pants and white shirt. Apparently, the Sabels didn’t have regular servants. Betas-for-hire were only arranged for when someone didn’t have help of their own. Vale had used them on more than one occasion to cater a party.
Surprised, he looked to Jason who shrugged and straightened up from the wall.
Rising, Yule gestured toward the door. “Why don’t we all take a seat in the dining room?”
Miner led the way from the room, and as they headed down the hall together, Jason sidled up beside him. “Is everything going all right so far?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“Oh?”
“It’s typically believed that it’s the job of the omega to please and charm the alpha.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Old fairytales.”
“Agreed.”
Jason smiled and then said, “Usually, my father does the cooking in our house, but tonight we hired someone in. I hope the food is good. I can’t vouch for it personally. We’ve never had this chef before.”
A bubble of optimism settled in his gut at the idea that Yule Sabel, the alpha of this mansion and wealthier than many a man could even dream, made dinner every night for his family. If that was the kind of alpha who’d raised Jason, then maybe it wasn’t entirely stupid of him to let his hopes flourish.
“It’ll be wonderful,” Vale said. “Better than anything I could make. I’m a terrible cook. Just ask Rosen.”
“How could you be terrible at anything?” Jason asked.
Vale laughed and shook his head. “Omega persuasion is powerful stuff, darling. Beware. I’d diagnose you with pheromone delirium for saying something as sweet as that.”
Jason was about to deny it when Yule gripped him by the shoulder as they entered the dining room and steered him toward a chair to the right of the head. “Sit by me, son.”
Then Miner closed in to whisper to Vale, “I thought it best to put some space between you so you can both think more clearly. Would you take the seat next to me?”
Vale almost protested. The truth was, he felt more clear-headed when interacting with Jason than when not. The pheromone attraction went both ways; his body seemed to know he was meant for Jason and relaxed.
Yosef and Rosen sat across from Vale, leaving Urho to sit across from Jason. The instant tension between Urho and Jason was palpable, an almost-violence that quivered over the table. Vale could see Miner trying to calculate the risk of leaving Urho seated where he was or asking him to switch with Rosen. If he did that, he’d be placing him closer to Vale than Jason was, and that wouldn’t be a good choice, either.
Inviting Urho might not have been such a good idea. Vale hated it when Rosen was right.
Eventually, Miner seemed to abandon the idea of changing the seating. Vale hoped for the best.
“Jason,” Yule said, after catching Miner’s insistent expression. “Urho used to be a doctor in the military.”
“I’m still a doctor,” Urho interjected. “But I’ve retired from the military. I only use my medical skills for volunteer work now.”
