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I forced a smile and replied to Lorelei. “Yes, ma’am. On deck or…?” But she was already halfway out of the room. I pushed back my chair and followed her, unsteady as the boat began to pitch slightly.
Once outside, Lorelei whirled. “I gave you a schedule. I expect you to keep it. I need to know where Sylvia is at all times. And where you are.”
“Where I am?” There was something I didn’t understand in her expression. Suspicion, and fear. I sensed my omega pheromones beginning to spill out, and tried to control them.
“Where were you today, Miss Fairweather?”
I frowned slightly, trying to think. “I had breakfast with Sylvia this morning. I was ill shortly afterward, and your brother kindly escorted me to the medical office. Dr. Rimbolt said it was probably just a touch of seasickness,” I rushed to explain. I didn’t want her to think I’d been taking care of her daughter while I was truly ill. “Then Sylvia and I spent the rest of the day together in her cabin, doing needlework. She has a hundred colors of thread. A very interesting collection for a young girl.”
Lorelei's eyes softened, and turned her gaze to the ocean. “She used to do that with my husband’s mother. Cross stitching.”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s working on a pattern she found online. She’s very talented with a needle; the back of her design is almost as clean as the front.” I didn't mention her talent with scissors, or how evenly she’d sliced up all of her gowns.
“And she was with you all day,” she said, her eyes boring into me. “You were together.”
“I already told you that, Mother.” Sylvia’s voice emerged from behind me. “Not that you pay attention to anything I say.”
Obviously flustered, Lorelei stammered, “I-I only needed to be sure, Sylvia.”
“I’ve never lied to you. Not that I expect you to listen to me, or believe me, or care. But leave Soleil alone. She’s not a liar either.” Sylvia brushed past us, and I tried not to stare as Lorelei’s face transformed into a mask of pain.
The ocean around us began to pound against the yacht, and we both grabbed onto the sturdy railing. After a long moment, Lorelei spoke, though I wasn’t sure she was addressing me. A swirl of burned cinnamon and marshmallows swept past my face. “She doesn’t understand. I’m so lonely.”
I took a breath, knowing it wasn’t my place. “Sylvia is, too. Perhaps you could join her tomorrow morning for breakfast. Swim with her.”
I shouldn't have said a word. “Isn’t that what you’re here for,betasitter?” She spat out the wordbeta. “That perfume you wear will fool most betas, but not an omega. Not an alpha. I’m still not certain what is it that you think you're doing.”
“A job, and that is all. I understand. I’ll keep Sylvia out of your hair and make sure she follows the schedule to the moment. I’ll go check on her now, to see that she arrived at her cabin safely.” Before she could say anything more—and before she noticed the calming omega pheromones that were swirling around us in the ocean breeze—I gave a half-bow and left.
Sylvia was safe in her room, and I went straight back to mine, fuming. I scanned the most recent dozen of my mom’s angry texts. Apparently, Mr. Grantham had informed her of my employment, so she was no longer filing missing persons reports. But the all-caps demands toRETURN HOME IMMEDIATELYand her reminders that I had not had permission to sign the contract—therefore making it void—had my heart racing at what exactly waited for me back there.
Normally, I would have rushed to answer them, to assure Mom I was okay. To do what she wanted. Like I always did.
But I was just tipsy enough to go against all my years of training.
So I deleted them all and texted Rain instead. She’d be so proud of me.
Feeling cute. May never come home.
I attached a picture of me in the backless gold top.
Of course, there was no signal. I threw the phone on the bed, pondering my options and folding the edges of the blankets in even pleats. The room was rolling back and forth, though that may have been the ocean or the wine.
I was hot, so I stripped off my clothes. That was better.
The mini-heat Dr. Rimbolt mentioned had been on my mind all day. I’d been in enough Omega League educational sessions to know precisely what he’d been referring to. And it terrified me. For this grumpy jerk to be my perfect scent match… I refused to follow that thought down to the two words at the end of it. But they bubbled up in spite of my denial.
True mate.
Normally, omegas only had one heat each year, a week-long fertile cycle where they would be frantic for sex with an alpha. I’d had enough heats to know how awful going without an alpha felt. It was five to ten days of absolute torture: feeling like my insides were being blowtorched, biting down on pillows so my parents wouldn’t hear me screaming, though they sometimes checked me into a secure penthouse apartment for those weeks.
A naughty part of my mind wondered what would happen if I called Giovanni to the room. Asked him for help, just for the night or two.
Ha!He’d probably throw me off the boat to cool me off, I’d sink to the bottom of the ocean, and he’d be glad.
Lots of omegas would ask an alpha they knew, or a well-endowed beta, to help them through their annual cycles. But there were so many stories of omegas either being bitten in the moment by an alpha they would never have chosen for a lifelong partner, or getting knocked up even with triple birth control in place, I’d never wanted to chance it. So I’d always made do with knotted dildos, vibrators, and an assortment of other sex toys.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have any of the extras I needed for a really great self-care session in my cabin. But I had some quality reverse harem smut downloaded on my phone, and two hands.
