“Come on. I think I ought to buy you that print as a thank you for the tour.” With the smallest of hesitations, she follows me. “I understand your hesitation about climbing into a car with a bunch of alphas,” I say, staring straight ahead and trying to show this isn’t a big deal. “But we’d be pretty shit alphas if we sat back and watched you climb into a car with some stranger.”
“You’re a stranger,” she points out.
I clutch my hands to my chest. “Fuck, I’m wounded. We just spent several hours together.”
She giggles a little, a sound I find I really like, and pushes her glasses up her nose as she steps inside the gift shop. For the next half an hour, I pretend to browse the shop, when really I’m browsing her.
I watch as she examines a row of miniature temples, picking each one up carefully and cradling it in her palm like it’s a precious jewel. When she’s done, she moves on to a collection of statues, her fingers dragging along the shelf, then reaching up onto her tiptoes to stroke her finger down the cheek of a bust. Next, something on the ground snares her attention, and she crunches down to drag it forward and look at it too.
She’s captivated by everything and, damn it, I’m captivated by her.
Resting back against the wall with my arms folded over my chest I can’t help imagining all the things I’d like to do to her if this shop were empty.
The other three wave to me through the window, Jake giving me the finger, before disappearing off to find a ride.
I don’t care. I’m perfectly happy where I am, enjoying the view.
I saunter up to the omega. She’s hovering in front of a cabinet of necklaces, each one laden with an Egyptian charm. She captures one in her hand and lets the small figure dangling from the chain rest on her fingers.
“You like them?” I ask.
“They’re beautiful.”
I unhook the chain and take it from her hand.
“Here, you should try it on.” I undo the clasp and motion at her with my head, she creases her brow in puzzlement. “Lift your hair,” I say it softly with a hint of command. Her long, chestnut locks are twisted in a knot and pinned to the back of her head, leaving her neck bare, aside from a few stray strands. The tissue-thin skin of her gland is just visible at the base of her neck. It’s provocative as hell and my own gland tingles in response.
The omega lifts the messy bun and now I see the whole of her gland. The tissue-thin skin quivers and this close to her it smells heavenly. I come to stand behind her, hearing her breath hitch as I wrap my arms around her, the charm falling against her chest and nestling into her cleavage. Then I draw my arms around the back of her neck, fixing the clasp together. I let it fall against her skin, against her gland. She peers down at the charm, her fingers caressing it, and I stand there transfixed by the place where an alpha could claim her.
I inhale her, and, shit, I’m getting hard. I step away.
“You going to have room in your suitcase?” I ask gesturing to the pile of items she’s collected.
She sighs as she removes the necklace and hangs it back on the shelf. “Probably not. I wish I’d brought a second bag. It’s all too beautiful. I may have to throw out my trainers to make room.”
She walks over to the counter and hands over her treasures.
I stare down at the collection of items and chuckle. “I thought we agreed I’d buy you one print.”
“Oh no … I didn’t mean for you to …”
She reaches for her purse.
“Hey, I admire your gumption. I said I’d pay,” I tell her, pulling out my wallet.
She frowns at me. “I can pay for myself.” There’s that tone again, Jake would call it snotty. But I’m not sure. It sounds more defensive to me.
I hold up my hand. Unlike Jake, I’m not going to get into an argument with this omega. There are far better things I’d like to do with her.
“OK, but I’m one to stick to my side of a bargain so I’m buying this.” I take down a photo of the temple, one taken above, showing the full perspective of the place, glittering gold against the blue sky.
“Thank you,” she says, when we’ve both paid and the shop assistant has wrapped our items in grey tissue paper.
I ask the shop assistant about a taxi and he makes a phone call, telling us a car will be with us in ten minutes. Buying us a couple of cold cans of coke, we go and wait on a small wall.
She crosses her long legs as she pulls back the tag and takes a swig of her drink, her elegant neck, elongating as she tips back her head.
“So top of the class?” I say, grinning at her.