“It’s…” The presumptuousness of the gift hits me at once. A heavy thud that lands like a punch. It’s wildly inappropriate to give this to him. To ask this of him. Completely and utterly inappropriate. Forward, rude, and ill-thought-out. Not to mention way too personal. “I. Um. It’s just an idea. Please don’t feel pressured to wear i—”
He opens the lid while I’m still holding the box, and his jaw drops. His eyes dance around the room, and he all but doubles over with laughter. “Oh my God,” he screeches. “It’s perfect! Seriously, Alfie, what a good idea. There won’t be a person in England who doesn’t believe you’re taken after this.” He slows and tilts his head thoughtfully. “You know, if you play your cards right, when I go back to the States, you can act heartbroken. I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to turn down invitations to these kinds of events foryearson account of it.”
“Yes, quite.” I swallow uncomfortably. “Good thinking.”
Objectively, I’ve known since before he got here that he’d be leaving. His position is a temporary placement. A fixed-term contract. A job with a start and an end date. Of course he’ll return to Seattle when it’s over. He lives there. His family and all his friends are there.
He turns away from me, dipping his head slightly to offer me the back of his neck. It takes a beat, but I quickly realize that he means for me to put the necklace on for him.
Naturally, I’m happy to do it, but the clasp is a fiddly little thing. Small and difficult to operate, especially since my hands are a little sweaty from the stress that comes with being required to attend a ruddy masked ball.
At last, I’m victorious, and the clasp is open. I hold an end of the chain in each hand and lower the necklace over Jensen’s head. He raises his chin as I do it, lengthening his neck to give me more room to work. His dark hair forms a gentle V at the back of his neck, and at the base of his throat, where his neck meets his shoulder, his scent gland pulses visibly. A tiny, plump swelling that isn’t noticeable unless you’re as close to him as I am.
I fumble with the clasp, dropping one end of the necklace from my grasp, causing it to slither down the front of his top.
He giggles and fishes it out, handing it back to me, still laughing.
When I finally fix the clasp, he turns to me, long, graceful fingers straightening the lacy ruffle of the neckline of his top, tucking the choker under it so that some of the diamonds are hidden, others on full display.
“How does it look?”
The word I’m looking for isperfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
I can’t make myself say it, though I’m not sure why, so I say, “Lovely,” again.
As we head toward the door, the little mite crooks his arm and offers it to me gallantly as you please. For a second, I think about humoring him and taking his arm as he’s taken mine manytimes. I’m planning on doing it. I’ve made up my mind to do it, when my hand swings back in a broad, involuntary arc and I land a crisp slap on his rear end instead.
It makes him hop adorably, glaring at me as he playfully rubs the sting out.
I straighten my posture and offer him my arm when he’s composed himself.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me. “Fine,” he says. “But only because you’re my employer, not because you’re an alpha.”
23
Alfie
Ahushfallsoverthe room when we’re announced. Heads turn and stay fixed on us. Or at least, they stay fixed on Jensen. Several audible gasps ring out as people notice the jewels around his neck. The atmosphere is stilted for several long seconds before normality resumes.
Beside me, the little mouse beams.
People mill around us all night, some pointedly ignoring Jensen’s choker and talking about everything but our betrothal, while others cave and ask us about it directly.
I must confess, I don’t hate the ruse. It’s ridiculous, but it’s rather fun getting into character and seeing people’s reactions. I can understand why Jensen enjoys this kind of thing so much. It’s freeing to pretend to be someone or something you aren’t.
“I spent weeks designing the piece,” I tell anyone who will listen. “It was so difficult to keep it a secret, as my intended”—I throw a meaningful glance at Jensen—“is almost impossible to surprise.”
“It’s because you’resucha bad liar, Alfie,” he says, giggling sweetly. “You do this thing with your mouth.” He affects a wobble at the corner of his mouth that makes the people around us chuckle. “It’s your tell.”
I sling an arm over his shoulder and pull him close. “I had to forbid myself from so much asthinkingof it in his presence, so as not to arouse his suspicion.”
“You did so well.” Jensen curls into my embrace, looking up at me adoringly. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”
