Page 12 of Knot Your Romeo
“You didn’t give me much choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Jolie.” The way he says my name makes me shiver. And not in a good way. “The question is whether you’re brave enough to make it.”
I stop just outside what I hope is a safe distance, close enough to talk but far enough that his proximity doesn’t completely overwhelm me. It’s a futile effort—Romeo’s presence seems to fill the entire space around us.
“What do you want?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself defensively.
He studies my face with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. “I want to know why you’re here.”
“I live here now. My mother works for your family.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He pushes off from the tree, taking a step closer. “I want to know why you’re really here. What are you running from?”
The question hits too close to home, and I take an instinctive step backward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” Another step closer, and now I can see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes. “You reek of fear, Jolie. And desperation. Whatever brought you to Silvercrest Manor wasn’t just a job opportunity.”
“You know nothing about me,” I say, hating how defensive I sound. But he smells my fear. Does that mean he smells the real me?
“I know you’re an Omega trying very hard to hide what you are.” His voice drops to a whisper that somehow carries more menace than shouting. “I know your scent makes my alpha want to do things that would terrify you. And I know you feel it too—this pull between us.”
Heat floods my face, and I take another step back. “I don’t—“
“Don’t lie to me.” He follows my retreat, stalking me like prey. “I can smell your arousal. Your pupils are dilated. Your pulse is racing.”
“You can smell me?” I whisper.
“Yes. Honey and lemon.” The words sound like they’re torn from his throat. “And I hate every fucking second of it.”
It’s what I expected to hear. He doesn’t know it but he’s not my scent match. Nobody can smell the real Emmie Darling—Jolie Masters. If someone smells that scent, it means something entirely different. And it’s too rare—I’m too rare to believe I’ll ever have a match.
But he said he smells my fear.
“Why?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “Why do you hate it?”
Romeo’s jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he won’t answer. When he finally speaks, his words are carefullycontrolled, as if he’s fighting to keep some deeper emotion in check. “Because I don’t want a mate. I don’t want the complications, the expectations, the inevitable disappointment when you realize I’m not the Alpha you think you need.”
“What if I don’t need an alpha at all?” I counter. “What if I just want to be left alone?”
“Then we have a problem. I have fought it since you got here. I know you must be too,” he says quietly. “Because biology doesn’t care what either of us wants. This thing between us—it’s not going away. It’s only going to get stronger.”
He’s right, and the thought terrifies me. I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid exactly this situation—being claimed by an Alpha who sees me as an object rather than a person.
“Even if that were true,” I say through gritted teeth, “it doesn’t matter. You have a girlfriend.”
Romeo’s laugh is harsh and humorless. “Cerise? She’s a Beta who likes the status of dating an Alpha.” The admission hangs between us like a live wire. I can see the conflict in his eyes. Desire fighting against something that looks almost like loathing. He wants me, but he hates wanting me.
“So what do you suggest?” I ask, proud that my voice doesn’t shake.
Romeo’s expression grows cold, and when he speaks, his words hit me like ice water. “Stay away from me at school. Don’t acknowledge me, don’t seek me out, don’t give anyone reason to think there’s anything between us. As far as the world is concerned, you’re just the housekeeper’s daughter and I’m completely indifferent to your existence.”
Each word cuts deeper than the last. “I wasn’t planning on chasing you. I’m the same as you. I don’t want anything.”
His smile is sharp and cruel. “Then we can have an arrangement. I keep Cerise as my public girlfriend—the relationship everyone expects. And you...” His eyes rake over mybody in a way that makes me feel exposed. “You help me manage the biological needs she can’t fulfill.”
I stare at him in horror, finally understanding what he’s offering. “You want me to be your secret fuck toy? To service your Alpha needs while you maintain your perfect public relationship.”
“I want you to be practical,” he corrects coldly. “This match exists whether we like it or not. We can either pretend it doesn’t and suffer the consequences, or we can find a way to manage it in a way that works for both of us.”
