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Opal had made the decision to find him again … after she finished the tasks that she was supervising. Her tiger wasn’t happy, but that was the best compromise they could come up with.
Violet kept shooting her looks from across tables or aisles, but Opal refused to stop long enough to think. Violet's eyes reflected … sympathy? Hope?
Opal couldn't tell, but she wasn't comfortable with the emotion, whichever it was. Opal decided not to talk to Violet until later. She couldn't possibly keep it together right now.
Gerri, with her knowing smile, was conversing with all of her many connections. Watching her laugh and talk vibrantly, Opal was puzzled about how Gerri knew that Benton was her mate. Opal wasn't sure whether to hate Gerri or thank her. Based on her current emotional state, she was leaning toward immense dislike.
She had to keep busy, or she would go insane. She arranged the dealers and made sure the tables were properly prepped with the equipment they needed. She double-checked the headcount and compared it to those who had checked in. She did everything in her power to keep from being idle.
And still, she would catch a whiff of fresh pine and melt a little. She felt the tension rise if she went near where he was. She had it bad. She was at his mercy. She just hoped he felt the same.
FOUR
BENTON
Benton was speechless.
That was a first for him. He didn't know what to expect after Gerri had coerced this little venture. Her first attempt at luring him with a female had failed. Then she had done something which made him suspect she was much more clever than he had given her credit for. She found what made him tick.
Not that he minded … too much.
Her sharp eyes had lured him with the one thing that he held above all others…glory. The chance to stand on top as the best of the best. It didn't matter that he would be playing for charity. He didn't need the money.
But he wanted the title.
He had walked into the tournament space with Gerri, eyes sweeping the room as he cataloged the competition. The wide circular space was filled with players, audience members, and, of course, benefactors. The small woman led Benton through the throng of people with the self-assured composure of a queen.
“Don’t you just love charity events?”
“No, but I must say, I’m liking this one,” he said.
He had no idea who he was representing, but Gerri had mentioned that this female was his true mate. Whatever that meant. He had never thought about having a mate, and he certainly wasn't in the position to consider something like that now.
At least, that was what he told himself.
He should have noticed Gerri’s confident smirk when her pace slowed. Benton followed her gaze, and his mouth went dry. The woman standing in front of him froze him in place. His tiger perked up, prowling curiously to the front of his mind.
Her scent wrapped around him, an exotic dance of vanilla, peonies, and spice. Benton bit his lip, biting back a purr. A fucking purr! He felt like his world was tipping, spilling over into the unknown. The rules changed before his eyes.
The second the sweet, curvy blonde slipped her delicate hand into his, he knew there was no one else for him. Electricity burned where their skin met. The trails of fire rose up his arms and settled between his thighs.
Her long, dark blond hair fell in a smooth glossy sheet behind her. Her eyes were two lagoons, ice dancing through her irises like facets of a diamond. The full curve of her perfect rosebud lips pulled up in a smile.
Mate,his tiger growled.
A possessiveness pulsed through his body. His hands grew gluttonous with the need to consume her skin. He needed her more than he had ever needed anything.
She introduced herself.
Opal.
He tested the word in his mind, and his tiger growled in approval.
Benton stifled a groan. How could a woman’s voice sound so sweet? He felt it slither over his skin. Dark magic, like honey and sin, he shuttered at what his name would sound like on her lips. What would it sound like if she screamed it?
A flush took over Opal's stunning face, and she pulled her hand from his. Benton clenched his fist at his side, forcing his body not to chase her. He held himself there, despite how much he wanted to take her hand and put it back in his where it belonged. Or how he wanted to chase her when she rushed away from him.
Was this what finding your mate felt like?
