Page 2 of Reject Him

“Father,” she greets. The group, all men, turn to greet her. Some smile sweetly at her and excuse themselves until only two remain. One man, in particular, catches her eye. He’s broad across the shoulders, and his dark hair is cropped close to his head. Her gaze slides across his square and stubbled jaw. He’s dazzling, and when she catches herself staring too long for comfort, she moves her attention to the slightly shorter, stockier man with blond hair, and nods her greeting. He has bright blue eyes that match a genuine smile.

“Eme, I’d like you to meet Mr. Brook,” her father introduces the taller man.

She swallows thickly and looks at the hand the alpha of the Brook Pack extends. She had no idea that this . . . well, handsome man, would be the alpha. If she had, she would have avoided her father and found someone else to talk to.

Mentally shaking herself, she takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Brook.”

“Please, call me Logan.” His deep voice sends shivers down her spine.

She releases his hand, wets her lips, and works not to fidget. As part of the alliance, as part of any beginning to any imprinting, sex must take place. This man, Logan, all rugged and handsome, looks like someone out of her league. She’s been called pretty, but this man is beyond pretty.

“Logan,” her father gestures with a hand toward Eme. “This is Emeline, my daughter.”

Logan’s eyes sparkle but just for a moment. Eme blushes and looks away at the crowd whose eyes are falling on them curiously.

Her father clears his throat and startles Eme. He turns toward the crowd. “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming tonight.” He takes a champagne glass from a server and hands one to Eme and another to Logan. He raises his glass in a toast. “Tonight, we celebrate a union, one for the betterment of the shifter world and one I’m glad for. Please, welcome Eme and Logan, the newest mates and the first of many between our packs.”

Logan Brook watches the way Eme fidgets under the gaze of so many people. She guzzles her champagne as soon as her father finishes his elaborate speech, all of which he doesn’t listen to. As Head Alpha of all the United States shifter packs, he’s used to being the center of attention, but he’d wager that the daughter of the Stonewell Pack alpha is not used to the spotlight. She’ll have to get used to that.

He observes her from head to toe, from her brown hair to the way her breasts press against her dress, to her hands in which her nails show evidence of artist’s paint. His gaze travels further to her shapely body, slender calves, and her red high heels.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” her father says, placing a comforting hand on Emeline’s shoulder. “I’m sure there’s much to talk about. Eme, darling.” He excuses himself, but not before pressing a kiss to his daughter’s cheek.

When he’s gone, she peeks a glance at Logan, and he says the first thing that comes to mind. “So you paint?”

Logan has never been much for painting or for art in particular, but if she’s passionate about it, he’s willing to show interest. Anything to make her feel more comfortable because she’s clearly nervous about this. She can’t stop tapping her empty champagne glass.

She turns to fully face him and frowns. “What - How did you know?”

He inclines his head to her fingernails. She examines the evidence of red and blue.

“Oh. Yes, a bit.”

“Tell me about it.”

She mumbles under her breath, “I’d rather not.”

He blinks at her and the way she just dismissed him so easily. As if he were nothing but trash. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected to be dismissed.

They both turn back to the party and watch the people converse once more. He doesn’t know what else to say. Normally, he’s had no problem holding up a conversation, but how does one comfort a woman he’ll soon fuck? She’s obviously not interested in him because she’s made no effort in discussing . . . well, anything for the five minutes they’ve been standing here.

“Here,” Logan begins. He reaches forward and takes the empty champagne glass from her hand. “Let me get you another.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. She crosses her arms and rubs at a bare shoulder.

“Sure,” he murmurs back in concern. “Finish mine. I’ll be right back.” He passes her his and watches as she downs the drink. With nothing left to say, he makes his way to the bar where a bartender tends to the crowd. Wayne, his beta, follows closely behind.

“She seems nice,” he says sarcastically.

“She seems scared,” Logan corrects.

“Yeah, that too. Do you think she’ll allow the mating tonight?”

Logan blows out a short breath. “I’d hope so.” If she doesn’t, then the alliance won’t be complete. But he doesn’t want to force her into anything. Forcing feels wrong. That, and he’s worried he’ll hurt her. He towers over her. He makes a mental note to be gentle tonight.

“Well, if you don’t take her, someone else will. She’s beautiful.”

Logan growls low. “Watch it.”