Page 12 of In Knots

The alpha’s words are spinning in my head, around and around. That command tugging at my gut, making my fingers twitch.

Call me.

I lean my head right back and blow out through my teeth. I shouldn’t phone a man like him. If my parents found out … But I want to. I want to hear that deep growly voice in my ear, feel that shiver of excitement.

Swallowing, I snatch up my phone and fling open the drawer of my bedside table, digging around for my copy ofPride and Prejudiceand finding his note buried between the pages. I didn’t throw it away. Of course, I didn’t.

My heart races as I punch in the numbers. The line connects and rings in my ear.

I do and don’t want him to answer, and I screw up my eyes waiting for destiny to decide my fate.

“Princess,” comes the response down the line and my stomach spasms so violently in surprise I nearly drop the phone.

There’s a drawn-out moment of silence. I can hear the rumble of traffic down his line and the murmur of voices.

“You said to call,” I blurt out.

“I did. Good girl.” Why on earth do those words have my insides tingling? “What are you doing?”

“I’m in bed,” I say, the heat immediately rising to my cheeks when I realise the implications of those words.

“A little early, isn’t it? It’s only nine.”

“I didn’t have anything better to do. I will probably just read a book and go to sleep.”

“I’m at a pub. I stepped out to take your call. You wanna come? I’ll come pick you up.”

“Oh, no, I …”

“You don’t do pubs?”

Do I do pubs? I do drinks parties. I go to the restaurant and the bar at the country club. I’ve never been to a pub. I realise now just how pathetic that must be.

He doesn’t seem to notice that I don’t respond to his question, though, because he asks another straight after. “So, you’re in bed, huh? What you wearing?”

“Wearing?”

“Yes, tell me what you’re wearing, princess.”

“Just my underwear,” I tell him truthfully.

“Just your underwear,” he repeats with what sounds like a groan. A noise that makes me shiver a little. “Fuck.”

“It’s hot,” I protest.

“It is. And you’re making me even hotter thinking about you all laid out on your bed in just your underwear.” I gulp. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come pick you up?”

“My parents are home.”

Silence.

I cringe. I didn’t say my parents wouldn’t approve of him, but I may as well have. Is he annoyed?

“You still live at home.”

“Yes.” And will do until I get married.

“Right.”

---