ONE
LEIGHTON
“Why the hell did you let her into my apartment?”
I could hardly take my eyes off the omega sitting on my couch, not even to hiss my question at Liberty.
Liberty was focused on my uninvited guest as well, her candy apple red bag of cleaning supplies sitting on my small dining table.
“Look, you haven’t been up close and personal with her yet,” Liberty said defensively.
“What isthatsupposed to mean?”
We were both keeping our voices hushed, although a glass door separated the breakfast nook from the living room where the omega sat. Her gaze was focused down, her posture prim and proper as she perched on the edge of my black leather couch. Liberty hadn’t even thought to get her name before she’d let her in.
“You know that feeling you get when you look at someone and realize they would do anything to get their way?”
Heaving a sigh, I turned to her. “Libby, the woman on my couch is a five-foot-tall omega who can’t be more than twenty-one years old. What was she going to do to you?”
Liberty still had one eye on the omega when she answered me, her weight shifting nervously from foot to foot. “Talk to me again when you’ve tried to stand in her damn way.”
Admittedly, it was concerning that my housekeeper, best friend, and assistant was this freaked out. She wasn’t unfamiliar with dangerous men and women—if she was easily unnerved, she wouldn’t have done well working for me. However, I was having trouble seeing what she saw.
“Fine. Let anyone in my apartment without permission again, and I fire you.”
She snorted, grabbing her cleaning supplies and heading through the kitchen toward the condo’s front door. Her spine was straight, watching my guest until she couldn’t anymore. “Who would replace me? Toss out these empty threats all you want, Leigh. You know I’m irreplaceable,” she teased.
Liberty fled like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels before I could respond, my front door slamming behind her.
When I looked back at the omega, she was looking at me.
Blue eyes caught and held mine, her eyelashes thick and dark. Honey brown hair fell in waves around her face, the strands so long they brushed the couch cushion she sat on. A dark dress hugged her curves before flowing out from her waist, the style ultra-feminine with ruffles and lace. She wore dark flats adorned with bows.
Paying closer attention, I tried to pinpoint what had unnerved Liberty.
The way she held herself was poised but tense, her hands on the couch like she was ready to push to her feet and run. A bandage wrapped around one hand, giving no sign of what the injury was. Her dress was discoloured in places, the stains barely visible on the dark fabric and hidden by ruffles. Those flats were caked in dirt and sand, bits falling off and dirtying my shag rug.
And her eyes…
I blinked first.
Shewassurprisingly unnerving to look at, after all.
Pushing through the glass doors and into the living room, I strode across the open-concept space until I was standing in front of her. We were separated by my glass coffee table, adorned with a display of fake florals in whites and blacks. I took only shallow breaths, not wanting my impression of her to be influenced by the siren call of her omega scent.
The less I inhaled, the less it would affect me. I had a bad feeling about the hints of chocolate and coconut I caught from her.
“Who are you?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Closer, I could see a thick scar slashing through her left eyebrow. Whatever gave it to her had almost taken out her eye.
“Kiara,” she said.
Short fingers tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement of her hair wafted her scent toward me, making it impossible to avoid. That coconut and chocolate scent was heavy and sweet. It called to me, admittedly, and tempted me to see if it smelled even sweeter between her legs.
I raised an eyebrow, used to keeping my reactions off my face. “I’m going to need more information than that, after you barged into my home.”
“There was no barging,” she denied. “The housekeeper let me in.”
