“Mmm. Turns out we’re scent mates, but he didn’t know because of his condition. You could say our relationship got off to a rocky start.”
Another wow. Scent matches are unusual, but between alphas and betas they’re a lot rarer. Not that I’m surprised, really. Grace gives off a warm aura that would attract any alpha.
“What about you and Corbus? I definitely sense something there, or am I totally off base?”
I meet her gaze, a denial on the tip of my tongue. But I need to talk tosomeoneabout this, and there’s something to be said for the sympathy of a stranger. “I think we’re scent matches, too. I recognized him the second we met, but he didn’t react at all. Still hasn’t, other than being excruciatingly polite. I’m now second-guessing myself, wondering if I made it all up out of wishful thinking.” I grimace and she grasps my hand. “Another possibility, of course, is that he’s ignoring it.”
“But why would he do that?”
I turn my head so that she can see the hard knot of scar tissue on my throat. “I’m unbonded. Not only did my mate cast me aside, but the unbonding ruined my scent. No alpha wants an omega who smells like bitter old coffee.”
“Oh, Kate. I don’t think Corbus thinks that way at all.”
“Because he’s such a gentleman? Richard is right. He and Bram are courting Dash. They adore him, and so do I. If there’s anything else between us, I’m not going to mess that up by forcing a connection Corbus doesn’t want.” Grace makes a humming sound that’s not outright disagreement, but close to it, and I shake my head. “I’m okay. But do you have a Band-Aid I could use?”
“You don’t need to cover up on our account.”
“Thanks, butIneed it. I can’t really explain it, but I don’t want to be a pariah here. Not in the place I’ve been reading about in magazines since I was a teenager.”
“I get it,” she replies, “but if anyone so much as points in your direction, they’ll be out on their ass before you leave the building.” I snort at the thought of this elegant woman wrestling someone across the lobby, but she just smirks. “I always maintain a good relationship with our Head of Security.”
A week ago, I would’ve said I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel protected, but that was before Bram took an interest in my safety.
“That smile suits you,” Grace says, unwrapping the House of Omega scarf from around her neck. “And this is much more stylish than anything we’ll find in a First Aid kit.”
I gape at the stunning silk offering. “Oh, wow. Is this from thePainted Poetrycollection? I didn’t think they came in this lapis lazuli shade.”
She gives me a sheepish shrug. “Ah, that’s because it’s a print Richard made exclusively for me.”
I gape at her, pushing the treasured scarf back into her hands. “Are you kidding me? That’s better than a personalized love sonnet. I can’t take this, Grace.”
“Thenborrowit. You can give it back to me when we catch up for lunch.” She turns me towards her, looping the garment around my neck. “Now let me fuss. There’s nothing I love more than dressing someone who appreciates beautiful fabrics as much as I do.”
I bite my tongue, standing still as she loops the scarf around my neck and ties it in an elegant bow. I expect her to step away, but she takes a diamante pin from her hair and starts fiddling with my bun. “One of my first arguments with Richard was over scarf styling,” she muses, setting the pin in my hair and teasing tendrils around my face. “I told him that his traditional design was stuffy, and that their marketing campaigns were missing the mark. He wasn’t impressed, but now our Omega Free scarves outsell all others.” We smirk at each other for a moment, and then she nods at the mirror. “Have a look.”
I turn reluctantly, but I have to admit, Grace has worked some Fairy Godmother magic. “Come on,” she says, taking my arm. “Chin up, and let your beauty speak for itself.”
I’m shocked by how invested she is in my situation, but I grab her hand before we reach the door. “Thank you. For helping me, but also for listening.”
She clicks her tongue, her blue eyes as warm as the scarf around my neck. “You were born to shine, Kate. Don’t let some jackass from your past convince you otherwise.”
I nod, because who in their right mind would argue with Grace Rose when it comes to the definition of beauty and style?
Corbus Janssen, that’s who.
Or so it appears, storm clouds darkening his expression as we enter the room. He’s standing next to the table, Richardnowhere in sight, and Grace clicks her tongue in either surprise or annoyance.
“Richard was called to another meeting,” he tells her, but his gaze is locked on my neck. “We should be leaving, too.”
Grace widens her eyes slightly at his clipped tone, but there’s a spark of mischief in her gaze as she turns and gives me a quick hug. “Well, we’ll just have to catch up again another time. Lunch, if not before. I’m assuming I can contact you through the Paragon offices?”
I blink, but Corbus is suddenly taking my arm, his hand covering the patch of skin still warm from Grace’s touch. “Kate will have her own phone and business cards by the end of the day. Until then, you can contact her through me.”
I’m still trying to find my words as I’m frog-marched towards the elevator, Grace’s soft laugher ebbing in our wake.
“Corbus, I’m sorry if I ruined the meeting, but you don’t have to escort me out of the building.”
He pulls his hand away like he’s been burned, but I can feel him hovering all the way back to the car.
