Page 49 of The Alpha Escort Agency
Can a relationship built on this, that’s started the way theirs has, last? She gazes at him, the brown of his eyes almost black in the dull daylight, his dark hair falling against the brows of his cheeks. He is so very beautiful, and kind and sensitive. Her heart brims with him.
She curls up against him, snuggling her head under his jaw, and his body relaxes around her as he inhales her scent and kisses the crown of her head. Then he makes that sound, a low guttural growl, almost a purr, at the back of his throat and her body loosens, her mind mellows, her worries float away.
Maybe this will work.
Except, by the time she arrives at the office, her emotions are a mess and she's not so sure. She’s a little sore, a little bruised where his hands gripped her and his mouth sucked her hard, pleasant reminders, twinges that have her returning to various moments of the evening before.
But their conversation in the alleyway has left her with an unease. She's been careful and cautious all this time, only to let down her guard for this Alpha. Is it all a mistake?
There's no time to dissect it, though, because Maria sticks her head around the office door.
“Lisa’s on the phone to Symix,” Maria says.
“Really?” Alice springs from her chair and rushes into the corridor. “How do you know?”
“Ryan just told me he put through the call.”
Alice swallows and rushes along the corridor towards Lisa’s office, hovering outside the door. She can see Lisa on the phone through the frosted glass, but she can’t tell if it’s disappointment or excitement written on her face.
She shuffles on her feet impatiently and, finally, she hears the phone hit its cradle, and Lisa spots her through the glass and waves her in.
“You heard who that was then,” Lisa says with a grin.
Alice nods, twisting her hands behind her back, wishing Lisa would put her out of misery. The anticipation of this has been killing her for days.
“Well ….” Alice’s pulse jumps around in her throat. Lisa stands up. “We got it!”
A yelp escapes Alice’s throat and she can’t help bouncing up and down on her toes as a mixture of excitement and relief cascades down her body. “We got it?”
Lisa nods and strides over to a mini fridge in the corner of her spacious office, three times bigger than anyone else’s with views down to the busy London streets and expensive furniture. She pulls out a bottle of champagne, unraveling the foil and popping off the cork.
“Grab some glasses from that cupboard, will you?” she tells Alice.
Alice fetches two flutes and brings them over to Lisa, who pours the foaming liquid into each one and, taking one for herself, clinks the rim against Alice’s. “Congratulations, Account Director. This is an amazing opportunity. Don’t blow it.”
“I won’t,” Alice says, holding her gaze and taking a long gulp of the cold acidic liquid.
“A client like this is going to need your full attention and dedication. These are the big boys. If they say ‘jump’, we say ‘how high?’ If they call us in the middle of the night, we are up and answering their demand.” Lisa pauses to take a gulp of drink. Then chuckles. “Well, you will be up anyway — this is your client and you are going to have to be married to the job. Thank God you're single because this client will take over your life.”
Alice lifts her chin. If Lisa is trying to freak her out, she’ll have to try harder than that. She’s been waiting for a challenge like this all her working life. Nail this, and she’s set on course for the rest of her career. She’s not going to screw it up.
And as for her love life? Okay, she’s not technically single anymore, but she’s not going to let it distract her from her work. So she may be deviating a little from the plan, but, no, she makes up her mind now, she's not going to scrap it altogether, not yet. She can't.
The plan is not something she’d bin just because an Alpha with pretty eyes makes her pulse flutter. An Alpha who is reluctant to give up his work as an escort. Who, now she thinks about it, made her no promises to quit his line of work. She might not be able to stay away, but if he’s not taking it seriously, then she won’t either.
She’ll stick by her plan of eight years.
The plan was made for a reason.
???
Eight years earlier
The day is wet and mournful, rain pouring from the suffocating blanket of grey cloud in a constant stream, murky puddles growing on the pavements and rivers flowing along the sides of the roads. She’s worn her only pair of black heels and her feet are wet as soon as she steps out of the house.
The black limousine waits in the middle of the road. The hearse with the polished coffin, laden with bright red flowers, sits in front. She can only glance at it, unable to believe he could really be in there. Her dad, so full of life and energy, so loud, so vibrant, silent and still under the glass of the motionless vehicle.
Her left arm is twined through her mum’s right, and Bea grips her on the other side as together they support her, guiding her forward through the dampness. As they take the few paces along the driveway towards the cars, she half expects him to tap her on the shoulder, a cheeky grin spread across his face, mischief in his eyes, and announce it was all a horrible, horrible joke. Or he’ll come dashing from the house, late as always, with cries of ‘wait for me, ladies’.
