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I turned to the manager. “You can go.”
Jergin seemed disappointed by the dismissal, but he didn’t leave right away. “Can I get you anything else, Alpha? Another bottle?—”
“You can close the door behind you,” I informed him flatly, stepping toward him to ensure he left.
He shuffled backward, the strong hands of my guards guiding him away as the door shut in his wake.
Slowly, I pivoted back toward Maren, my eyes searching over her, memorizing every aspect of her face and body. She had changed out of her stage outfit, but that didn’t bother me. I didn’t need to see her half-naked to see how beautiful she was. Even in a simple, button-down dress of apple green, her dark hair now flowing freely over her shoulders and upper back, she seemed lovelier than when she was covered in makeup on stage.
“Maren, is it?” I asked, hiding my own excitement seamlessly.
“Yes, Alpha.”
I smiled at her and gestured for her to sit in one of the empty chairs. “Would you like a drink?”
She shook her head quickly, but took her seat. “No, thank you, Alpha. I don’t drink.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Never?”
She raised her head and finally met my eyes, the honey brown tantalizing and drawing me closer. I sat beside her, noting her body language. To my relief, she didn’t turn away, and I sank back, folding my hands over my chest.
“You sound shocked by that,” she replied. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but she enunciated well.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a dancer who didn’t indulge on occasion,” I admitted. Her face hardened, if only slightly.
“Do you meet a lot of the dancers?” she asked.
The blunt question took me aback. But for some reason, she didn’t anger me. There was a guilelessness about her, as if she were unfiltered in the purest way.
“Yes,” I replied. “I do.”
To my bemusement, a smile quirked at the corners of her lips.
“Is that funny to you?” I asked.
“No. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so honest,” she admitted.
“I see. What were you expecting?”
Maren pursed her lips and twisted her hands nervously in her lap as I leaned forward. “I don’t know, but I definitely wasn’t expecting to be called on by the king. Have I done something wrong?”
I laughed lightly and reached out to touch her hand, unable to resist. Again, I expected her to withdraw or tense, but she merely lifted her head to stare at me imploringly, allowing me to hold her trembling fingers. “Is that the only reason I’d call on you? Because you did something wrong?”
“I don’t know why else you would.”
My brow furrowed slightly as I came to realize that she was nothing like any of the other dancers I had bedded over the years. Maren didn’t hold an iota of arrogance or self-righteousness.
It’s almost like she doesn’t see her own beauty. How can that even be?
“Where did you come from, Maren?” I asked, deciding not to explain what her physical nearness was doing to me.
She blinked at the unexpected question. “Come from?”
“Are you from South Havenmire?” I pressed.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she nodded. “Yes. I was born here.”
“And your family?”
