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My sketchpad.
Rune must have pulled the sheets back to slide me into the bed, which means he might have seen my drawing. How could he miss it sitting on crisp, white sheets?
I almost pull it out so I can examine the rough sketch. The need to capture Rune as he’d moved around the kitchen had been so intense, I couldn’t have ignored it. I was seeing something magical and I couldn’t let it pass me by. Irefusedto let it.
I want to ask him what he thought about it, if he liked it, hated it, or was completely indifferent toward it.
He has a Renoir hanging in his entryway, Everleigh. You should be so lucky to have him like your sketch.
“Maybe he didn’t see it,” I murmur as I stare up at the chandelier over my head.
Why do I want him to like it? To think it’s amazing? For my drawing to be as impressive to him as his cooking was to me?
Is that a stupid thought to have?
“Probably,” I tell myself.
I think of him again, flashing me a cheeky smile as he cooked for me. That sweet kiss on the tip of my nose and his hot hands framing my face. And I think of Kylian pinning me against the pool, driving his cock deep in me. My body shifts restlessly across the sheets and I have to fight with myself not to slip my hand between my thighs and think of it some more.
When I realize my vanilla-coconut scent is growing stronger, I tilt my head to the side, focusing on the glass dish with white pills.
“Dealer suppressants must not be good at all,” I breathe.
Sitting up, I reach for two of the pills, try not to notice how few I have left, and swallow them with the bottle of water before I get up to head for the bathroom.
I didn’t find any scent blockers in the shower, not that they’d make any difference to the gradual approach of my heat. Blockers are for omegas who are trying to hide their designation from the world.
What I need are stronger suppressants. Or more of them. Because if these suppressants don’t start having a stronger effect, I’ll be begging Kylian, Cian, and Rune for their knots before I know it.
I take my time in the shower, scrubbing my body clean.
Fear makes me reluctant to rush. Soon, I have to go downstairs and potentially learn even more about alphas preying on omegas in this city. I don’t want to know it. But I need to. So I shower, brush my teeth, and dress in a pair of denim shorts, a white oversized linen shirt, and run a comb through my hair.
I’m halfway down the stairs when muffled voices reach me from the room Rune stepped out of before. Not the gym, though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing with my growing desire for the three men in the house or a source of bitter disappointment. The one with the big, round table. It must be their home office, and it sounds like they’re deep in conversation.
When Kylian’s muted curse drifts out, I halt at the bottom of the staircase. My hand tightens around the balustrade, convinced they’ve learned some new horrifying thing.
I swiftly turn toward the kitchen.
Perfectly aware that I’m being a chicken, I need time to brace myself for more shocks to the system. Maybe a minute. That’s all.
The kitchen isn’t as inviting—or as interesting—without Rune moving about in it. Nancy has her back to me as she riffles through a cupboard.
As if she senses my presence, she glances over her shoulder.
“Finally.” Her frown melts into a smile. “Oh, hi, Everleigh. Sorry, I thought you were my disappearing daughter.”
I tilt my head, confused. “Disappearing daughter?”
Nancy closes the cupboard and turns to face me. “I sent her to the kitchen garden to pick some rosemary for a roast I’m making for dinner. Guess how long that was?” Her voice is wry.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.” She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling fondly. “Constantly distracted. I bet she’s swimming instead.”
“I can go get her if you want. And I’d like to see the kitchen garden.”
Before I learn what had Kylian cursing. It can’t be anything good.
