Page 106 of Knot Their Safe Haven
"—understand that our shareholders have concerns about?—"
"Then sever all ties."
Alessandro's voice cuts through François's pompous rambling like a scalpel through tissue. I look up to find him dressed in dark jeans and a henley that makes his shoulders look broader, his green eyes focused on the phone with predatory intensity.
"Excusez-moi?" François chokes. "Who is—is this Mr. Devereaux?"
"Whether I'm Mr. Devereaux or not is irrelevant." Alessandro's arm tightens around me, pulling me back againsthis chest. "What matters is that anyone who speaks to my omega with such disrespect forfeits the privilege of her association."
"Your omega? This is highly?—"
"Let me clarify something for you, François." The way Alessandro says his name makes it sound like profanity. "Your company posted losses for three consecutive quarters. Your board is under investigation for embezzlement. Your pharmaceutical subsidiary just failed FDA approval for the fourth time. You need the Morclair Foundation more than we need you."
I can hear François's sharp inhale through the speaker. Alessandro continues, relentless.
"But please, by all means, withdraw your funding. We'll ensure everyone knows why—that François Dubois thinks omegas over thirty-five shouldn't have romantic lives. I'm sure your shareholders will appreciate that perspective, especially the forty-three percent who are omega females."
"That's not what I?—"
"Have a pleasant day. Don't bother calling back. This number will be blocked within sixty seconds."
He ends the call with surgical precision, then picks up the phone again, fingers flying across the screen. True to his word, François's number joins the blocked list.
"Better?" he asks, looking down at me with concern softening those impossible eyes.
"Much better." I turn in his arms, my hands finding his chest. "Though I could have handled him."
"I know. But why should you have to?" He leans down, pressing lips to my forehead. "Good morning, by the way."
A giggle escapes—when did I become someone who giggles?—as his lips find mine properly. The kiss is gentle, tasting of coffee and intention.
"Did I wake you with my yelling?"
"No. Been up since dawn planning." His hands settle on my waist, thumbs stroking through the silk of my robe.
"Planning what?"
"Surprise. Pack field trip." His smile carries mischief. "But you won't know details until you get dressed. Think autumn in the mountains. Layers. Comfortable shoes."
"Oh?" I shape my lips around the sound, watching his eyes track the movement. "Everyone's going?"
"The twins are upstairs coordinating outfits—apparently our lack of color coordination offends them. Alexis is showering and threatening violence if they enter her room."
Excitement bubbles in my chest like champagne. "What are you wearing?"
"Black."
"Alessandro!" I roll my eyes dramatically. "Wear color for once."
"Why?"
"Because I want us to look like we stepped from a fashion magazine." I trace patterns on his chest, feeling muscles tense beneath cotton. "Want everyone staring, wondering how I collected such gorgeous Alphas."
His laugh rumbles through both our bodies. "If that's what our omega wants..."
"It is."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I open for him. When we break apart, we're both breathing harder.
