Page 3 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

"No, but I did invest in the restaurant. The chef is an old friend."

"Of course he is." She rolls her eyes, but her smile remains. "Is there anyone in this city you don't know?"

"The hot dog vendor on Fifth. We haven't been formally introduced."

Her laughter fills the car, and for a moment, I forget about surveillance and security threats. This is what matters to me… to us. Her happiness, her safety.

The restaurant welcomes us with the appropriate fanfare. The ma?tre d' escorts us to a private alcove with a view of the city lights. I requested this specific table for its privacy and the fact that it puts my back to the wall with clear sightlines to all entrances.

"This is beautiful," Dahlia says as she takes her seat.

"Only the best for you."

Our server appears with water and menus. "Mr. Blackthorn, Dr. Baldwin, welcome to Lumière. Chef Michel has prepared a special tasting menu for you this evening, if you'd like."

"That sounds perfect," I answer before Dahlia can respond. "And a bottle of your best non-alcoholic champagne."

The server nods and disappears.

"A tasting menu?" Dahlia raises an eyebrow. "Are you planning to keep me here all night?"

"That was the plan."

She smiles and reaches across the table to take my hand. "I like this plan."

The first course arrives. It's delicate canapés, arranged like a work of art, and Dahlia's eyes widen with delight.

"These look amazing." She takes a bite and makes a sound that should be illegal in public. "Oh my god, Evan. You have to try this."

I watch as she devours the appetizers with unusual speed. When the server returns to clear our plates, she looks almost embarrassed.

"Sorry," she whispers after he leaves. "The pregnancy has turned me into a human garbage disposal."

"Eat as much as you want. You're feeding five."

"True." She rubs her belly absently. "Though I worry about what will happen when they get bigger. Will I need to eat every hour?"

"We'll hire a full-time chef if necessary."

She laughs. "Of course you will."

The second course, a truffle risotto, arrives soon, and it makes Dahlia close her eyes in bliss with the first bite. I notice a man at a nearby table staring at her with unusual intensity. He's not the only one. Several male patrons keep glancing our way.

I shift my position slightly to block their view of Dahlia. Her pregnancy has intensified her natural Omega scent, making it nearly irresistible to any Alpha in the vicinity.

"So," I begin casually, "I was thinking about expanding our security measures at the house."

Dahlia's spoon pauses halfway to her mouth. "Evan, no."

"Just hear me out. We could install a more comprehensive system that…"

"Not tonight." She sets down her spoon. "Please. I don't want to discuss security, threats, Hammond, or any of that. Not on our date night."

I start to argue, but stop myself when I see the look in her eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Thank you." She resumes eating. "Tell me about your day instead. Did you fire anyone?"

"Only two people." I smile. "And that's a record low for me."

"You're growing soft in your old age."

"I'm thirty-eight."

"You're ancient." She grins. "Soon you'll need a cane to chase after our four little monsters."

"I'll hire someone to chase them for me."

She kicks me gently under the table. "You will not. You'll be right there in the trenches with the rest of us, changing diapers and cleaning up spit-up."

"That's an alarming prospect."

"But it's worth it." Her expression softens. "Can you believe it? In six months, we'll have four babies."

"Four perfect little nightmares."

She takes another bite of risotto. "God, this is good. Do you think the chef would give me the recipe?"

"If he doesn't, I'll buy you the restaurant."

"Stop that!" She laughs. "You can't solve everything by throwing money at it."

"Watch me."

Dahlia eats with impressive enthusiasm through the following three courses, and even requests seconds of the duck confit. The server seems delighted rather than surprised, which makes me suspect the staff has been briefed about her condition.

By the time dessert arrives, I notice her cheeks are flushed and her pupils dilated. The pregnancy hormones also affect her arousal levels, a fact that has benefited all four of us.

"You look... warm," I observe.

"It's hot here." She fans herself with her napkin. "Or maybe it's just you in that suit."

"Are you flirting with me, Dr. Baldwin?"

"Is it working?" She leans forward, giving me a view of her cleavage.

"Definitely." I shift in my seat, my pants suddenly too tight. "Perhaps we should skip coffee."

"Perhaps we should." She runs her foot up my calf under the table.

I signal for the check, which appears almost instantly. I don't even look at the total before handing over my card.

"In a hurry?" Dahlia asks innocently.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?" She takes a final bite of soufflé, licking the spoon clean in a way that makes me want to drag her into the bathroom and bend her over the sink.

"The things I'm going to do to you when we get home..." I murmur.

"Promise?"

The server returns with my card. "Thank you for dining with us, Mr. Blackthorn, Dr. Baldwin. Chef Michel hopes you enjoyed your meal."

"It was wonderful," Dahlia says. "Please tell him thank you."

I help Dahlia from her chair, positioning myself to hide the obvious bulge in my pants.

"Let's go to the rooftop garden first," I suggest as we exit the restaurant. "I have something for you."

"Can't it wait until we get home?" She presses herself against my side. "I have something for you, too."

"Patience." I kiss her temple. "This is important."

She sighs dramatically but allows me to guide her to the car. The drive to my downtown office building takes only minutes. I park in my private garage and escort Dahlia to the executive elevator.

"I haven't been here in ages," she comments as the elevator whisks us to the top floor. "Not since that day I stormed into your office and called you a corporate parasite."

"The day I fell in love with you."

She looks up at me, surprised. "Really? Was it that day?"

"The moment you told me to go fuck myself when I offered you a job." I pull her closer. "No one had spoken to me like that in years."

"So, it was my charming personality that won you over?"

"That and your incredible ass in that pencil skirt."

She smacks my chest. "You're a pig."

"Your pig." I lead her through my office to the private staircase that accesses the rooftop garden.

The space has been transformed since her last visit—strings of fairy lights illuminate winding paths between lush plantings. A small table with champagne on ice awaits us in a secluded corner.

"Evan..." Dahlia breathes. "This is beautiful."

"I had it redone for you." I guide her to the table. "For us."

She turns in a slow circle, taking in the city lights that stretch to the horizon. "It's perfect."

I pour two glasses of non-alcoholic champagne and hand one to her. "To us."

"To us." She clinks her glass against mine. "And our growing family."

We sip in silence for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Then I reach into my pocket and withdraw a small velvet box.

"What's this?" Dahlia asks as I hand it to her.

"Open it."

She lifts the lid to reveal a pendant – a teardrop-shaped sapphire surrounded by diamonds on a platinum chain.

"Evan, it's gorgeous." She lifts it from the box. "But you already gave me jewelry for my birthday last month."

"This isn't just jewelry." I take the pendant from her and turn it over to show her the back. "See this small button? Press it three times and it activates a GPS tracker and sends an alert to me, Leo, Onyx, and Axl simultaneously."

Her expression changes. "A panic button?"

"A precaution." I try to keep my tone light. "It also monitors your vital signs and will alert us if anything changes dramatically."

She steps back, crossing her arms. "So, it's a leash."

"No, Dahlia…"

"I thought we weren't going to talk about security tonight."

"I know, but…"

"But you couldn't help yourself." She sets down her champagne glass. "I'm not a child, Evan. I don't need a tracking device."

"It's not about your capabilities." I step closer, but she maintains the distance between us. "It's about peace of mind."

"Your peace of mind? What about mine?" Her voice rises slightly. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to have four overprotective Alphas monitoring my every move? I can barely breathe without one of you asking if I'm okay!"

"We worry because we love you."

"You smother me because you're paranoid!"

I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "After what happened with Hammond…"

"Hammond is in prison." She cuts me off. "It's been months, Evan. We can't live in fear forever."

"It's not just Hammond." I run a hand through my hair. "People are watching the house. The photographer you saw today wasn't the first, and he won't be the last. The public is obsessed with you, with us."

"So, we hire security. We take reasonable precautions. We don't turn me into a walking surveillance system!"

I move to the edge of the roof and look out over the city. "You don't understand."

"Then help me understand." She comes to stand beside me, her anger softening. "Talk to me, Evan."

I turn to face her. "I had nightmares every night for weeks after we rescued you. In every one, I was too late. I found you..." My voice breaks. "I found you dead, or worse."

Her expression softens further. "Oh, Evan."

"The thought of losing you, of losing our babies..." I swallow hard. "I can't bear it, Dahlia. I would burn the world to ashes to keep you safe."

"I know you would." She takes my hand. "But you can't protect me from everything. No one can."

"I can try."

She looks down at the pendant still in my hand. "Is it just a panic button and health monitor? No microphone? No camera?"

"Just what I told you. I swear."

She sighs. "Fine. I'll wear it."

I lift the chain to place it around her neck, but she stops me.

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"You all wear one too." She meets my gaze. "If I have to be tracked, so do you. All four of you."

I blink in surprise. "You want to track us?"

"Equal partnership, remember? That was our agreement when we decided to do this."

She's right. We promised equality in our unusual arrangement, despite the traditional Alpha-Omega dynamic that would place her in a submissive role.

"Deal." I fasten the necklace around her neck. "I'll have matching devices made for all of us by the end of the week."

The pendant nestles in the hollow of her throat, the sapphire matching her dress perfectly.

"It is beautiful," she admits, touching it lightly.

"Beautiful jewelry for my beautiful mate."

She rolls her eyes. "Cheesy."

"But effective." I pull her against me. "You're not mad anymore."

"I'm still a little mad." But she wraps her arms around my waist. "You'll have to work hard to make it up to me."

"I can think of a few ways to do that." I lower my head to brush my lips against hers.

She responds immediately, her body melting against mine. The kiss deepens, her tongue sliding against mine as her hands fist in my jacket.

"Take me home," she murmurs against my lips. "I want you inside me."

"We could stay here." I gesture to a plush outdoor sofa nestled among the plants. "No one can see us."

"Tempting." She nips at my bottom lip. "But I want a bed. I want space to do all the things I've been thinking about during dinner."

"What kind of things?" I slide my hand down to cup her ass.

"Dirty things." She presses herself against my erection. "Filthy things that will make you forget your name."

I groan. "You're killing me."

"Not yet." She bites my lower lip hard enough to make me gasp. "But I might by morning."