Page 21 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

And that seems highly likely, given the way his fingers have started brushing up and down my arm.

He’s obviously comfortable touching me in front of his alphas, but I catch my breath as Corbus leans close to my ear and murmurs, “If you’re wondering why we don’t simply leave this to chance, it’s because of the gala.

Dash could’ve been badly hurt, and I was distracted with business. ”

He's close enough for his breath to tease the damp hairs trailing my cheeks, but Dash still gives a squawk of protest. “I’m fine, Corbus! It was just a hunger pain that got away from me. And I’m taking care of that, see?”

He stabs his fork into the fruit salad on his plate, and Corbus gives him a fond smile. “I will always want to take care of you, mijn liefje .” His gaze swings back to me. “And if he needs assistance again...”

“I’ll be right there.” One glance tells me Dash is still conflicted by the arrangement, so I nudge his elbow. “Does this mean I get to watch you dance?”

He perks up, his mouth twisting into a sly smile. “You can have a private performance whenever you want. And there are a couple of moves that we should probably practice, just to make sure I nail them before opening night.”

Something tells me those moves won’t ever make it to the stage, but I’m more than willing to have him try them out on me. Over and over, if that’s what it takes.

“Ugh. And speaking of rehearsals…” Dash groans as he drags himself to his feet. “Today is a technical run-through, so not exactly a thrill a minute.”

“We thought Kate might join us for the day,” Corbus says, setting his napkin aside and looking expectantly at me. “Would you like to come along on a client visit? I’m meeting with the design team at House of Omega on a collaboration.”

Would I like to see the inner workings of th e most elite luxury goods company in the world? No design devotee is ever going to turn down an offer like that. And as for spending more time in Corbus’ company, I try to ignore the way my heart perks up in anticipation. “I’d love to.”

Dash rounds the table to kiss us all goodbye and then Corbus is pulling back my chair to help me stand.

I feel that familiar pull between us - his cedarwood spell , as I'm starting to think of it – but I try not to lose my head as I say, “The only thing is I have a shift at the hotel at noon. If I miss it, Mrs. Gladstone will fire me for sure.”

“Don’t worry.” Corbus waves an elegant hand at this minor inconvenience as he leads us off the terrace. “We’ll take care of that on the way.”

Taking care of it, I discover, involves calling Mr. Friedman from the phone in the back of Corbus’ limousine.

I've never met the Liberty Hotel's owner, but as his voice comes over the speaker, both Corbus and Bram greet him like old friends.

And yet once the pleasantries are out of the way, Corbus doesn't hesitate to tell him that I’m joining the Paragon family, effective immediately.

I can almost hear Mr. Friedman frowning down the phone. “You're poaching my staff now, Corbus? Who is it? It better not be Marianne from my PR team. Or Lucilla, from -.”

“It's Kate Valentine,” Bram interrupts him. “She's part of your housekeeping staff. We spoke to you about her after she helped us on the night of the gala.”

Um, what?

There's a long silence that makes me twitch on the leather seat, but Corbus holds my gaze, his finger tapping his lip. “You know I have an eye for diamonds, Lawrence. When I'm lucky enough to find one, I don't hesitate to claim it.”

I’m speechless at this declaration, but Mr. Friedman just barks a laugh. “I can’t argue with that. Seems like I should be spending more time with the housekeeping crew, though.”

“You should definitely be checking on their supervisor,” Bram adds, a hint of menace in his voice. “Like I said before, Jennifer Gladstone would benefit from some additional customer service training.”

I bite my lip to hold in my grin, but all the humor is gone from the exchange now, and Mr. Friedman says gruffly, “Yes, well, thanks for the heads up, gentlemen. And make sure you bring your new gem to the next gala, won’t you?

I want to meet the omega who has you two growling down the damn phone at me at eight in the morning. ”

He rings off before they can reply, and I stare at the alphas, wondering if that really just happened. “So, I’m no longer a Liberty employee?”

“Welcome to Paragon,” Bram replies, jerking his head at the building we’ve pulled up alongside. “I have a meeting, but you’re okay going along with Corbus on the client visit?”

I scoff at him. Is he kidding? “I’m more than okay. I’ve followed every House of Omega campaign launch since I was a teenager. This is a dream come true.”

I’ve been a devotee of the luxury design house ever since I first learned to say haute couture . The fact that Garth Rose’s great-grandfather started his empire out of a tiny apartment in Brooklyn only made me love the brand even more.

“Perfect. Enjoy yourself then and come by my office when you get back. I can show you around and introduce you to a few people.” He looks at Corbus before he opens the door, and there’s something in the way he hesitates that makes my senses tingle.

Is he worried about leaving us alone? “You need me to come along?”

My eyes widen, but Corbus just gives him one of his polite smiles. “I’m sure we can manage. Go and enjoy your budget update.”

Bram grunts, but there’s no missing the gleam in his eye as he climbs out and heads into the office. When the driver has pulled back into the traffic, Corbus turns to look at me. “Do you have a favorite gemstone?”

There’s only curiosity in his gaze, but I can’t stop myself from glancing down at my naked ring finger.

Bonding rings tend to be flashy – brilliant cut diamonds, sometimes set with a border of rubies or emeralds, and always big enough to catch the eye of envious omegas – but I’ve lost my taste for that kind of extravagance. “I like opals.”

“The queen of gemstones,” he tells me, and gives an approving nod. “I will show you our Lightning Ridge black opals. They are very rare, with a beautiful harlequin pattern of greens and blues. I think you would suit one set in white gold with a halo of sapphires from our princess collection.”

“Why not?” I laugh, entranced by the sparkle in his own sapphire-like eyes. Talking about gemstones seems to light him up the same way as Bram gets excited about a budget meeting. “If they’re that pretty, I should probably buy two.”

He tilts his head and taps his long fingers on his knee. “Wait until you see our neckpieces. A throat like yours deserves the complete set.”

My smile falters, because I have no idea if he is flirting with me or mocking my status. He doesn’t seem like the sort to make fun of an unbonded omega, but I don’t really know him well enough to be sure. “I don’t wear jewelry anymore,” I say, turning away to the window.

“A missed opportunity-.”

“We’re here,” I interrupt, nodding at the flagship building with its polished marble stairs and a copper-framed archway.

H.O.M.E. is spelled out in gold lettering, and I feel the flush of excitement return.

This really is a shrine for anyone who grew up dreaming of high-end fashion and innovative design, all wrapped in luxury fabrics and stylish materials.

As we mount the iconic steps, I can’t help feeling almost worthy of Corbus’ princess collection.

He has a briefcase in his hand, but he’s close enough for our arms to brush, and I catch a few curious glances from the workers streaming into the building.

They’re all wearing the season’s latest designs, their chests puffing out in their immaculate suits as they recognize the industry giant in their midst. Corbus, for his part, barely seems to notice them, reserving his attention for the doorman who greets us at the top of the stairs.

There’s no need to introduce himself, because as we enter the foyer, a beautiful beta is waiting, her eyes lighting up as they land on the alpha at my side.

“Corbus, it’s lovely to see you again,” she says, easy affection in her voice.

“I was hoping to get a dance with you at the gala, but you disappeared.”

“Apologies, Grace.” I’m surprised he drops his usual mask to look at her with regret. “It was a hectic night.”

“Of course,” she replies with a fond smile, then turns my way. “I’m Grace, one of the designers here.”

I nod, even though she doesn’t need an introduction, either.

Every fashionista in the city has seen a hundred pictures of Grace Rose, the woman who won the heart of the owners of House of Omega and then went on to design a revolutionary perfume line.

If there’s such a thing as fashion royalty in this city, it’s the Rose Pack, and Grace is their sparkling center.

“Nice to meet you,” I manage, even though my mouth is dry and my pulse is racing.

“I’m Kate Valentine. I work at Florence Maura’s design house. ”

“Sweet Eternity?” Her eyes narrow, but I can see the keen interest gleaming through her lashes. “Hmm, don’t tell Richard that. He’s been wanting to plant a mole in that salon ever since he saw their summer castaway collection.”

I bite my lip, almost as giddy as when I crawled out of Dash’s bed this morning. Not quite, but Richard Rose is the closest thing this country has to a grand couturier. And he liked my castaway collection enough to want to plant a spy in the salon!

“I’ll warn Florence to frisk everyone for hidden cameras,” I reply, and while Corbus casts me a startled glance, Grace gives a hearty chuckle. “Why do I feel like you could give him the inside scoop?” she asks as she leads us over to a private elevator.

I just shrug, but when we’re inside, Corbus gives me a curious look. “Castaway collection?”

“It was inspired by all the celebrity ‘barefoot bonding’ ceremonies last summer,” I explain.

“You mean on the beach?”