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Tilly
Thefollowingnight,a powerful knock at my door made me jump, and I glanced in the mirror and checked myself quickly. I dressed in a floaty dress, not sure what to wear for an evening with dinner with my boss. I didn’t know if it was a casual dinner or a fancy night at the Ritz. Choosing this dress covered both angles.
A pair of boats and high-heeled sandals sat next to each other at the door. Waiting for my choice when I saw what he wore.
I glanced through the spyhole. He was in a nice charcoal suit with a button-down white shirt, no tie, though, and the top two buttons were open. I took that this was a casual date.
I opened the door, and he smiled. “Ready,” he asked. Luca was the typical tall, dark, and gorgeous, and his presence demanded power. But he had a magnetism money couldn’t buy.
“I am,” I said, smiling, and glanced at the floor as I went to pick up my boots to wear.
“Nice sandals,” he said. His tone wasn’t commanding, it was almost coaxing, like he was hoping I was going to choose differently.
I was going to wear my boots out of spite, but picked up the sandals and strapped them on my feet.
“Beautiful,” he said when I rose to look at him. He held his elbow to me and I took it, and we made our way to his car that was idling at the kerbside.
On the journey, I kept glancing his way in the car. He was so damn handsome. Unfortunately. Fashionable trimmed espresso coloured hair, so shiny and radiant as it flopped stylishly over the top. His dark chocolate eyes seemed bottomless in their depth. Countered by the brightness of his straight white teeth. But it was the angles of his face and sharp bone structure—he was a perfect work of nature.
And I noticed at work that whenever I looked around the office, Luca always had the room. When he smiled, when he laughed, even when he was completely silent, everybody stopped and stared.
But it was when he looked at me. The intensity of his glare burned my face every time. It was like he was looking into my soul, seeing the very person underneath, seeing the omega—seeing me.
“We’re going to an art gallery first,” he said and my heart rate spiked as he moved close, not because it was a fast action, but because it was the slow and deliberate. His eyes pierced mine, and I sat there, waiting. He moved closer in small, measured steps. All omegas put up with this behaviour, demanding but with a quiet strength of power, making it appear I had a choice.
Did I have a choice here?
Was he the same as my father?
Luca held his hand against my lower back as we walked into the art gallery. It was only then I realised this was a lavish occasion and Luca had buttoned his shirt and now had a tie around his neck. I felt underdressed in my floaty dress.
“You should have said we’d be coming here. I could have worn something special.”
He leaned closer and his lips touched the shell of my ear. “You look perfect.”
I smiled, and he took my arm and we strolled around the many people, stopping and staring at the artwork on the walls and the sculptures, encased in glass and others roped for safety.
“Do you like this art?”
I nodded, and he placed a delicate hand on my shoulder. The sensation was unlike anything else, and I prayed to God my padded bra was enough for him not to notice my nipples had hardened.
What was wrong with me?
First Jackson and now Luca. I was falling apart.
He turned me to him, leaning closer and his lips fluttered to my ear, the warmth of his breath scattering down my neck, and I was wishing he would move his lips closer to mine. I suddenly wanted to kiss him.
What was wrong with me? I craved him like an omega about to go into her heat and I was nowhere near that stage. I’d foolishly let myself go into a heat occasionally, knowing my body needed the relief.
He cleared his throat as a bell tinkled in the background, glad of the intrusion. I wasn’t sure if I was about to kiss him; him kiss me. But something was brewing.
He rewarded me with a smile. “Let’s take our seats.” Luca and I entwined our arms together as we walked from the main gallery area and into a large conference room filled with round tables graced with black tablecloths and fine white china on the top. A waiter showed us to our seats.
Sipping my champagne and staring around the table, listening to different people making conversation. But seeing Cruz and Jackson walking up to the table interrupted my eavesdropping. I sucked in a breath as they pulled out the seats opposite me.
I smiled courteously, but couldn’t stop my spine from stiffening as I tried not to look at Cruz, but knew his eyes were on me. I smoothed my napkin over my lap.
“Did you like any of the artwork, Tilly?” Cruz asked.
Our eyes locked in an instant, but my throat was too dry to answer.
I shook my head and lowered my head and kept my eyes on my plate and refused the champagne for the rest of the dinner.
Not that I ate much with the devil sat in the seat opposite, but there was a fire growing in my belly, a burning wish to get what I wanted.
I wasn’t sure what that was anymore.
I glanced from Luca to Jackson and finally to Cruz, and smiled. This was the way—the only way—I would get my answers.
Jackson cleared his throat, and I glanced at him. He smiled. “What did Sandy want from you?”
“How do you know?” I asked, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting to Cruz, but I wouldn’t pretend any longer. Somehow, I would let him know I knew who he was and wait for his reaction.
“We know everything,” Luca asked.
“I haven’t spoken to her yet. She had to leave early.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Apparently the rumour going around is that she was a lover of a boss, maybe all of them and apparently she didn’t like me being summoned to the office.” Hopefully, they would take the hint and not do it again.
