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I stand there awkwardly as she stares at my cards for far too long and then finally turns to the sleek desktop computer. Electronics look out of place from the rest of the room, breaking the illusion that I’m in the early twentieth century.
As she stares at her screen, her face only grows more anxious.
I shift on my feet, uncomfortable.
“Is something wrong?” I finally blurt out, and she stops to glance at me. Finally, her face evens out and she sighs.
“No, Miss Chapman, there’s not,” she says carefully. “But if you’ll excuse me a moment, I will be right back.”
I’m even more puzzled as she stands and leaves the room, walking towards the fireplace and turning a corner.
She leaves me alone with the clock and crackle of the logs as my only companions.
I try not to panic.
Maybe there’s something wrong with my card. Maybe theydon’thave a room for me.
Where will I go, then?
A muffled male voice sounds above me, followed by the voice of the Beta woman behind the counter.
Then, the voices are silent.
The clock chimes so loudly I jump.
It’s midnight.
And I’m exhausted.
I want to rest in the canopy bed. I want to bury myself under the covers and not resurface for a week.
Sighing, I walk to the inviting loveseat and sink into the cushions, letting the warmth of the fireplace wash over me.
Please let there be a room.
The woman is gone for a ridiculously long time and as I wait, I focus my gaze out the window, staring into the darkness.
He won’t find me here.
Hecan’t.
I took my laptop with me and he doesn’t have the login to my bank account.
Which is what started our fight in the first place and what put the outline of his handprint on my cheek.
So please, for the love of God, just let there be…
“Miss Chapman?” a low voice asks, and I jolt out of my half-asleep state. I turn my head, following the voice, and…
Oh.
Holy hell.
The woman from earlier is nowhere to be found. Instead, she’s been replaced by a pale, bleach-blondeAlpha, with cheekbones so high and a jawline so sharp it’s ridiculous.
His icy blue eyes are piercing, and he cocks an eyebrow as he stares at me from the front of the room.
Jolting up out of the loveseat, I move my hair out of my eyes and face him. “Yes?” I ask, careful not to let him know how he affects me.
