Cliff paced back and forth in his enormous office. It was a beautiful summer day, and outside the massive picture window rolling green hills were interspersed with jutting rocky outcrops under a sky where clouds settled into the blue in white-gray layers, like the ingredients in a cocktail. A hawk wheeled overhead.
But Cliff was blind to the stunning natural tableau outside. Females always played hard to get. It was expected. It was part of the game, and Cliff had looked forward to chasing Taylor down as she flirtatiously evaded him. Rolling her over on a soft carpet of leaves and… He gave a brief growl and shook his head irritably. She wasn’t playing hard to get – she was playing impossible to get.
His beta, James, who was used to Cliff’s moodiness, leaned back in a comfortable leather chair and watched for a while.
Finally he said, “Would you like my opinion?”
“Hell no,” Cliff growled. “Why would you think that? When have I ever?”
James ignored him. And it wasn’t true, anyway. When Cliff wasn’t stressed out and furious, he always sought James’ counsel. “In my opinion, that was the worst proposal in the history of our species. And you followed it up by getting her fired. Nice job.” He did a sarcastic slow clap
“Well, obviously she won’t need to work anymore, because she’ll be my mate. And I’ve done all right for myself, so I think I’ll be able to provide her with a meal or two.” Cliff irritably gestured at his luxurious surroundings.
God knew it wasn’t what he’d have chosen for himself – he did most of his work at home, in a room where he wasn’t afraid he’d scuff the pristine white carpet or get fingerprints on the glossy surface of the desk. But it did what it was intended to do, which was to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind – clients, prospective business partners, press – of the Bronson family’s obscene wealth.
“You think she’ll be your mate? I think it will be a miracle if she’s not speeding through the border right now, headed to Winnipeg.”
Cliff paused to glare at his friend. “Any other pack member would be dead five minutes ago for talking to me like that. You’re lucky you’re the pack’s only Truth-Maker. And my best friend.”
James smiled and arched an eyebrow. “I know. Why do you think I do it?”
“This is funny to you?”
“Somewhat, yes.”
Cliff deliberately turned his back on James and resumed pacing. “Just order Richard to prepare the honeymoon suite for Monday after the mating ceremony.” Richard was his Omega, and the man who oversaw all activities at Bronson Manor. He scowled. “We won’t have time for the traditional after-party. Damn Alpha Trials. Figures I’d meet ‘the one’ right before the trials start.”
“So, to be clear, you’re going to force her to mate with you? Shall I have some handcuffs or a ball and chain delivered to the honeymoon suite?” James’ tone was laced with enough sarcasm that it was clear he wasn’t actually planning on delivering either of those things.
Cliff stopped pacing and whirled around to stare at James. His heart lurched. “I’m sorry? You’re trying to say that you really don’t think she wants to be my mate?” That wasn’t possible. Taylor was his – from the moment he’d seen her she’d been like a hunger, like a drug in his veins, an itch beneath his skin.
James sighed, obviously thinking his Alpha was being exceptionally thick-headed today. “She told you she wouldn’t even go on a date with you. How exactly should I interpret that?”
“I assume she was playing the typical Alpha mate games, in which she makes the Alpha chase her.” Cliff bit the words out.
“The typical Alpha mate games, where you shift and chase her through the forest… and she pauses so that you can catch up? Where you chase her through the house, and she hides…and makes a noise so you can find her?” James shook his head. “Normally you’re excellent at reading people.” He sat up straight and folded his arms across his chest. “What was your read on her? Did she seem overjoyed when you barked at her that she should deliver herself to you immediately?”
“I did not bark!” Cliff barked at him.
James stared at him unblinkingly for several seconds before averting his gaze. Even James knew better than to directly challenge Cliff that way.
“I’m the Alpha! Every woman wants to be with me!” His face flushed with anger. Normally he had women crowding around him begging to be with him, even if just for the night. But a creeping unease began to ice his spine.
James wasn’t the least bit rattled. “Every woman but her, apparently. You were extremely rude and abrupt. That might have worked with a woman from this pack, but every pack is different. They must have different traditions than we do. It can’t possibly hurt to woo her and charm her.”
Cliff painted over his uncertainty with arrogance and testosterone – it had always worked before. “Woo and charm? Who has time for that? I have a company to run, a pack to protect, and Alpha Trials to prepare for! To say nothing of keeping my brothers from killing each other! Or me. And how dare you try to give me advice on romance? Who do you think you are?”
James abruptly stood up and walked towards the door. His tone turned cold. “Mated for twenty years. Father of eleven cubs. You do the math. And now, if you want my help, I will be in my house with my lovely mate. Possibly fathering a twelfth, so knock first.”
He stalked off, back stiff. Cliff flopped back down in the seat behind his enormous desk and rubbed his face with his hands, stifling a groan.
“Nice.” A sarcastic voice jabbed at him from the doorway.
He looked up with a growl of annoyance.
Grant stood there with an amused look on his face. “Thanks for making my job so easy.”
“Sorry, I don’t speak moron.” Cliff clicked on his computer keyboard, and the monitor turned on. He made a pointed show of ignoring Grant, but as usual Grant failed to get the hint.
