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Pack Ashe.
My eyes bounce between the three men who must be over six feet tall. All are in their late twenties to early thirties, wearing suits so form-fitting they must be custom-made.
Rune Fontenot, the CEO of Ashe Investments, resembles a big, gold lion with shoulder-length dirty-blond hair, a dark, gold beard that looks surprisingly soft, and amber-gold eyes.
His scent is sticky apple pie, freshly baked bread, and a log fire. All things that make a girl want to move a little closer andsnuggle.
Safe.
He smells safe, warm, and deliciously moreish.
I once overheard one of Lawrence’s friends say that despite his big, friendly smiles, he’s the most dominant among them. He’s certainly the biggest. Wide, heavy shoulders strain a white shirt and a black tie that doesn’t look the least bit comfortable.
He’s so big, I feel myself shying away. He maysmellsafe, but no alpha is ever safe with the potent power their pheromones have over an omega like me.
“Problem, cher?” rumbles from Rune’s powerful chest.
Oh, I forgot about that.
He’s from the South. Louisiana or New Orleans, I can’t remember which. I’d forgotten about the impact his Cajun drawl has on a woman.
Cher.
Rune draws the word out as if savoring it, makes it thick and syrupy sweet.
He once had an omega running to the powder room to ease the ache that drawl put between her legs.
I feel the full effect of that cher way down low.
As if he knows—with an alpha’s potent sense of smell, he likelydoesknow—a wide smile stretches his lips.
I remember all the ways Lawrence controlled me, turning me into someone I barely recognize. All things I hated. Despite all that, I remember still begging for his knot when my heat came around the way it does every three months.
As an omega, I will always crave an alpha’s knot, and I will always hate that I do.
I inch back, creating more distance between this big alpha and me.
As his smile dims, a strand of blonde hair falls into my face. I bat it aside.
I have scratches up my arms, and I’ve ripped my dress. I’m not the same perfect omega they would have seen in the ballroom. But I throw my shoulders back and tilt my chin up as I prepare to do the only thing I can.
I lie out of my ass. “No problem. I was a little overheated, is all. So I came out here to get some fresh air.”
Rune’s dark blond brow rises. “Fresh air?”
I nod. “It was hot in the ballroom.”
His amber eyes slide to the hedge and back to me. “It looked as if you were trying to climb it.”
“Did it?” I ask, feigning ignorance. “You must have been mistaken.”
Silence.
I notice where the other alpha, the one with lazy khaki-green eyes, is looking.
My jaw. Myrightjaw. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t think much of his attention since I’m used to Lawrence showing me off. And I’m an expert at applying concealer.
But I’ve just spent the last few minutes desperately trying to climb a twenty-foot box hedge. Exertion like that is going to cause sweat. One thing youneverdo if you want your makeup to last the night is sweat.
