Page 23 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

“Then borrow it. You can give it back to me when we catch up for lunch.” She turns me towards her, looping the garment around my neck. “Now let me fuss. There’s nothing I love more than dressing someone who appreciates beautiful fabrics as much as I do.”

I bite my tongue, standing still as she loops the scarf around my neck and ties it in an elegant bow.

I expect her to step away, but she takes a diamante pin from her hair and starts fiddling with my bun.

“One of my first arguments with Richard was over scarf styling,” she muses, setting the pin in my hair and teasing tendrils around my face.

“I told him that his traditional design was stuffy, and that their marketing campaigns were missing the mark. He wasn’t impressed, but now our Omega Free scarves outsell all others.

” We smirk at each other for a moment, and then she nods at the mirror. “Have a look.”

I turn reluctantly, but I have to admit, Grace has worked some Fairy Godmother magic. “Come on,” she says, taking my arm. “Chin up, and let your beauty speak for itself.”

I’m shocked by how invested she is in my situation, but I grab her hand before we reach the door. “Thank you. For helping me, but also for listening.”

She clicks her tongue, her blue eyes as warm as the scarf around my neck. “You were born to shine, Kate. Don’t let some jackass from your past convince you otherwise.”

I nod, because who in their right mind would argue with Grace Rose when it comes to the definition of beauty and style?

Corbus Janssen, that’s who.

Or so it appears, storm clouds darkening his expression as we enter the room. He’s standing next to the table, Richard nowhere in sight, and Grace clicks her tongue in either surprise or annoyance.

“Richard was called to another meeting,” he tells her, but his gaze is locked on my neck. “We should be leaving, too.”

Grace widens her eyes slightly at his clipped tone, but there’s a spark of mischief in her gaze as she turns and gives me a quick hug. “Well, we’ll just have to catch up again another time. Lunch, if not before. I’m assuming I can contact you through the Paragon offices?”

I blink, but Corbus is suddenly taking my arm, his hand covering the patch of skin still warm from Grace’s touch. “Kate will have her own phone and business cards by the end of the day. Until then, you can contact her through me.”

I’m still trying to find my words as I’m frog-marched towards the elevator, Grace’s soft laugher ebbing in our wake.

“Corbus, I’m sorry if I ruined the meeting, but you don’t have to escort me out of the building.”

He pulls his hand away like he’s been burned, but I can feel him hovering all the way back to the car.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” As we settle on the leather seats, he scoots closer to me, and I catch a sharp edge to his scent, like scorched wood. “I had harsh words with Richard. It was best we let things cool off and meet again another day.”

I try to imagine Corbus having harsh words with anyone, let alone the aloof Head Designer of House of Omega. Richard Rose is famous for his reserved demeanor, and Corbus isn’t exactly a bottle of sass, either.

But despite my curiosity, I’m too strung out to push for more details, and we lapse into an uneasy silence.

Not that it feels like silence, the way the tension crackles between us.

I hold my tongue until we pull up outside the Paragon offices, but I grab his arm before he can slide out of the car.

“You don’t have to do this. If I make you uncomfortable, we don’t have to pretend. ”

He frowns, but there’s more bewilderment than anger in his eyes. “I’m not pretending.”

Ouch. I guess that means our connection really is one sided. “Okay, but you’re obviously upset. If I embarrassed you back at that meeting…”

He growls, and the next moment his hands are at my throat.

A flash of fear freezes me in place until I realize his anger is directed at the scarf, his elegant fingers fumbling with Grace’s bow.

He mutters something under his breath in Flemish and then switches quickly to sharp-edged English.

“You don’t make me embarrassed or uncomfortable, but this makes me very, very upset. ”

“I can see that,” I murmur, holding still as he picks furiously at the knot. “But if you keep tugging on it, you’re just going to tighten it.”

“I should just rip the thing,” he growls, but thankfully the silk suddenly gives way in his hands. “I can’t stand his scent on you another moment longer.”

I freeze, staring into his face, which is less than a foot from my own. “What?”

There’s a violent slash of red on each of his high cheekbones, and his nostrils flare as he finally pulls the scarf free.

I watch, speechless, as he jams the delicate silk into the pocket of his jacket and gives me a look that’s simmering with heat.

“Orange blossoms are my favorite scent, Kate. But not when it smells like another alpha has had his hands all over you.”

“No one touched me, Corbus.” I reach out, but he jerks back, and we stare at each other in silence. “I was in the bathroom. Grace came in and offered it to me…”

“I know. I just…” He’s suddenly reaching for the car door, his startled driver taking a step back as he almost catapults onto the pavement. I watch as he looks around, like he’s not sure where he is.

“Corbus?”

I stare at his back as he clenches his fists, then slowly releases them. “Excuse me, Kate. I must see to some things before my next meeting.”