Page 49 of Pack Choice

“I was.”

“Why?”

“I think that’s obvious, Omega.”

“Enlighten me anyway,” she says, as I take a seat on her right and her bodyguard takes one on her left.

“I wanted you to come with me.”

She stares at me. I stare right back. “You’re far more sneaky than I gave you credit for.”

“Probably, but you can hardly blame me,” I say, letting my eyes snake down her jaw-dropping body. “But I had other reasons too.”

“Oh Jeez. Do I want to know what these are?”

“I need you to bid on me.”

She glances towards the bodyguard, and flops back in her chair, rolling her eyes in that way that has me wanting to bend her over my knee. “Is this a sneaky way of getting me to go on another date with you?”

“Whether you redeem the date or not is up to you … of course the charity gains a lot from the publicity of the dates going ahead. They usually send a photographer.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Back when I lived in New York City.” I open the bottle of sparkling water on the table and pour her a glass.

“And you want me to spend my own money bidding for a date with you?”

“No, you can use my credit card.”

“So you’re paying for a date with yourself.” She grins and the bodyguard chuckles. I glare at him. He’s meant to be discrete, not listening in to our conversation. I need to find a way to lose the guy pronto.

“Actually, I’ll be preventing certain individuals here tonight from buying a date with me.”

“You’re very sure of yourself,” she says, taking a sip from her water, and drawing attention to her scarlet-painted lips. Same damn color as her dress. Just like a firecracker. Red for danger. Red for warning. Why do I find this woman so alluring regardless?

“I’m taking precautions.”

The omega sits up straight in her seat, and scans her gaze around the ballroom. “So who exactly are you concerned about?” she says, with a trace of tension in her voice. “Is there an ex here?”

“No.” I pour myself some water, wishing it was something stronger, and take a gulp. “Deborah.”

Molly’s eyes scan around the ballroom until landing on someone on the far side.

“Deborah Monroe?”

“Yes.” Molly frowns. I can only assume she’s not a fan. “I take it you aren’t friends.”

“No, her daughter, Cassidy,” the omega leans into me, filling my senses with that spicy scent of hers, “is the biggest bitch on the planet.”

“And here I was, thinking that was you,” I say.

She laughs, tossing her hair. The bodyguard growls. “I am not even in her league.” She turns to meet my eyes. “For example, I will fulfill your request. I will bid for you.” Dramatically I sigh with relief. “Even though it would be fun to see you go on a date with Deborah. Even though it would only be fair after dragging me here under false pretenses.”

“They weren’t false. You knew I wanted you to be my date tonight.”

She narrows her eyes. “You said you wouldn’t come unless I did. You know, if you’d told the truth and said you needed someone to bid for you, I would have come.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” I say as several people arrive at the table. One of them is a client of ours, a news anchor with his wife and oldest son. He’s accompanied by someone I recognize as a philanthropist – an elderly woman with her latest husband.