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“She is,” I replied softly, placing one hand on her arm to keep her from storming across the dining room. Sylvia was walking toward us, her chin jutting out in defiance, but her eyes dancing with mischief and something else.
Happiness.
“What do you think?” she asked her mom when she got close enough, but before Lore could answer, I stepped up to her and bowed.
“I think that may be the most beautiful dress you’ve ever worn, Silly.” Our eyes met, and she wrinkled her nose at the pet name I’d given her when she was a baby. But she didn’t complain.
“Look, Uncle G,” she said softly, then turned so I could watch the skirt flare out. She’d always done that as a little girl, too.
Upon closer inspection, the dress wasn’t black, but a dark, midnight blue, that flowed from a collar of rhinestones at the neck down her arms to matching rhinestone cuffs, and all the way to her feet. Silver flats peeked out at the hemline when she finished her turn, but the ship pitched slightly. I caught her before she fell, and murmured, “Please tell me you didn’t sneak any champagne?”
“Uncle G, I’mtwelve.” She giggled, and a second later, I heard Lorelei smother a sob. It was the first time I’d heard Sylvia laugh in two years. It might’ve been the same for Lorelei.
“Where did the dress come from, Sylvia?” I asked.
“The betasitter made it for me,” she said with a strange smile, directed at her feet. “She’s the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”
Where was she? My eyes flew to the door.
“What do you mean, weird?” Lore asked. “And how did she make you a dress?” Her tone was slightly sharp, and I squeezed her arm gently.
Sylvia’s chin jutted out mulishly. “She’s weird in a nice way. And she used Nana’s sewing stuff. She cut up one of her own dresses.” A tiny giggle escaped again. “She didn't even have to hem it. Soleil is short, for a… beta. Betasitter, I mean.” She winked at me, and I frowned back.
“Where is she now?”
“Oh, um.” One silver-clad toe rubbed at the teak floor. “This was her only fancy dress—she said she had no idea she was going to be on a boat, right? So she stayed in her cabin. I’m going to bring her some food later.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. “No, Silly. I’ll take her some dinner.”
She grabbed my hand as I began to do just that. “I like her. Don’t be grumpy at her.”
“Me? I’m not grumpy.” I scowled ferociously at her, making her smile once more, then strode to the door as fast as I could. The yacht was rocking slightly more than I liked, given that the weather reports had been mostly clear. I ordered dinner to be served to the waiting diners, and two additional meals to be plated up and delivered to Miss Soleil’s cabin. Then I texted the captain to keep an eye on the weather and left, ignoring my sister’s calls and the fluttering complaints of the photographer who seemed to think I’d care that their head table shots would be ruined.
The night was warm and when I reached the cabin—which was unacceptably far from mine—I was already sweating at the thought of the woman inside, and half-hard from the floral, tropical scent seeping out into the hall.
The door swung inward after my second knock, and Soleil’s voice greeted me. “Sylvia, didn’t you— Oh! Mr. Grantham?”
I blinked, then rubbed my eyes. “What… what is this?” I stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind me. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. The woman I’d been obsessing over, the dazzling creature I’d been imagining, was dressed in… “Ducky pajamas?”
The most ridiculous printed tank top I’d ever seen—yellow rubber ducks sitting in duck-shaped inner tubes—floated across her generous breasts and coasted down to a pair of bright orange shorts that hugged her ample thighs. My teeth began to ache again, and my mouth began to water at the thought of biting those luscious thighs, leaving my marks on her. She would bemine.
Shit. Not mine.This woman, this innocent-looking, possibly duplicitous woman was a stranger. Maybe an alpha-chaser, for all I knew. Maybe taken. Definitely too young for me.
Fuck it,a dark voice growled inside. None of that mattered. I would let myself have this, have her in my grasp, just once. Touch her, taste her. I didn’t care if she had a thousand fiancés back home.
“Mr. Grantham?” she repeated, confused. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Sylvia get to the dining hall? I walked her halfway; I saw her go through the door—” I set one finger over her mouth.
“Shh.” I took in every inch of her, memorizing each detail. Glittering pink polish decorated each nail on her bare feet. Her legs and arms were gleaming and smooth, her hair tied up in a ridiculously high ponytail, her face scrubbed clean, and her skin… “Damnit, you’re so young, Sunshine. So bright, and soft, and forbidden.”
As I stepped further into her cabin, that last word seemed to shimmer in the air between us. I had held on with an iron grip to my own instincts, my desires, for so long. Had kept myself separate from women, especially omegas, with one notable exception. And I’d never approached a woman this young.
But her breath was already coming fast, her perfume blooming, merging with my own scent. Telling me she was receptive.
I’d spent my life hiding what I desired. Emotions, desires, hopes… They were all weapons that could be used against you in business, and in bed. I’d crafted the stony face I showed the world, keeping my true feelings hidden to everyone. Maybe too well hidden. It felt like a part of me had petrified. My heart, maybe.
And perhaps that was for the best. But it was almost impossible not to feel when I was around Soleil. Painful, to hide the desire that mounted inside.
I wanted to be with this deceitful omega more than I’d wanted anything in so long. To feel what it might be like not to be alone, just once. I was so damn tired of holding on, holding back. She was a perfect temptation. I wanted to strip her bare and do every filthy, depraved, forbidden act I could imagine… and that she had probably never even dreamed existed.
