An Alpha's Heart

by Sara Allen

  An Alpha’s Heart

  The Architect & The Bodyguard

  Sara Allen

  Jessica Watkins Presents

  This one’s for you, Lucy Lou.

  You inspire me daily,

  You give me the will

  to keep churning them out

  Love you to the stars and back

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Sara Allen

  Prologue

  Her

  Darkness swallowed the light from the corridor behind me like a black hole in space. His office was brooded, thick, and uncomfortable like a frigid hand from behind on an unwary shoulder. With skin as pale as his, you’d have thought he rarely left the confines of his office, preferring his own company to that of others. I knew if he could live in the dark, he would, but that would only make him paler.

  Today was the last time I'd venture into his domain. Having come to a decision, I was finally done fighting him for his love or for a place by his side. The pain was a struggle my body couldn't handle any longer. It was time to focus what little energy I had elsewhere, turn my efforts towards getting my tattered life together again after spending every waking moment consumed by him.

  But, when a fire that burns so brightly consumes you, the only thing to do is turn over and enjoy the heat, make sure it reaches the deepest parts of you, and enjoy the slow burn as the fire consumes you. My love for this man was more than I could bear anymore. The suffering was too much, so much so that it’d become detrimental. I resembled someone stricken with a sickness, a weakness in their soul that ate them from the inside out or maybe someone who’d not slept properly in weeks. I still hadn't found a cure for the debilitating disease I suffered from. Everyone knew that in reality, there was no cure for love unless a person died because love demanded it in order to stop the pain. That option wasn’t available to me. I had to survive whether he cared for me or not. I had to live because my family needed me, and I them.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I whispered into the semi darkness. “The buses are running late.”

  “What happened to the car I bought you, Rowanne?”

  I shook my head, not knowing if he’d see me. It seemed he’d already forgotten I’d brought the vehicle back last week, handing over the paperwork and keys along with some of the other things he’d bought me. I couldn’t keep them. I refused to hold on to anything he’d given me.

  “I don’t have the car,” I replied when he didn't acknowledge my gesture. “It’s downstairs in the garage.”

  He nodded as though with the reminder the memory had resurfaced.

  Standing awkwardly at the door, I was unsure if I should enter his demesne and get caught up with the wonder of him again. Waiting for the inevitable invitation seemed like a much better choice.

  “Take a seat, Rowanne.” He settled deeper against the high-back chair, causing the sun slanting through the window to catch his pale face and make a halo of the dust motes that rose around him. My breath caught in my throat at the beauty of a man who loathed himself. The effort of holding on to so many regrets in my heart almost turned me around to walk back through the door and ignore everything. To stay in his shadow so long as I got to have him, even if it was just the half he was willing to give. But these steps had to be taken. I had to free myself from this, from this want, and need to destroy my soul like a moth against a flame.

  My heels clicked across the floor until I stopped by the chair facing his desk and seated myself, struggling to keep my disturbances to a minimum. The silence of his room hurt my ears with its lack of sound. I didn’t dare disturb the quiet, expectant hush that seemed to wait in ambush for me, poised for a chance to break loose and wreak havoc upon my person..

  Sliding the manila envelope towards him across the desk, I was proud of the steadiness in my hand that showed barely a tremor. The chewed and bitten nails at the ends of my fingers looked awful against the pristine opulence of the rich, mahogany desk, shame made me snatch it back quickly, burying my hand in a fist.

  “I signed the parts marked with red ink.” I had no idea why I said that. “Erm… I mean I signed where your lawyer had said I should.”

  Nothing of his features moved, fixed like a mask that made me wonder if he was even paying attention.

  “Did you read the terms?” He sniffed as though he’d caught the scent of vulnerability. “Are they acceptable?”

  The tone was so cold, bereft of all the warmth and passion we’d shared this last year. I stared at him again and considered if he was truly the man I’d married after just three months of meeting him.

  “That’s just it, Ash.” I wouldn’t be swayed on this. “I don’t want anything from you—nothing.” I heaved the sigh over full lips and started again. “What I want is for us to go back to the way we were before, if that’s possible.” The stiffening of his shoulders told me he was set to erupt, so I rushed on quickly. “But I don’t want to be reminded of you. I want to get on with my life as though this last year never happened and we’d never met.” My lip trembled, but I bit and held on, determined.

  He put a tattooed fist against his jaw and studied me. “That’s not what I want at all, but circumstances are pushing this, Row. You know that.”

  He’d called me by that name in that special tone which made me melt like ice against the sun. I hung my head so he wouldn’t see the tears filling my eyes or how I had to my open my mouth in a silent scream at the loss of him.

  “I’m sorry, Asher.” I used his full name, refusing to add passion where I’d tried, and failed, to dampen it on my slow ride over to his office. “I can’t do that. I can’t accept the monthly checks because they’ll remind me of you too much. I need to go back to how I was before I met you or I’ll never be able to move on.”

  As he studied me, I couldn’t help but wonder if that hesitation on his face was because he wanted to ask me to stay. But his mouth remained firmly clamped shut, and any hope that he’d reconsider slithered out the window with his next words.

  “You do whatever you need to do, Rowanne,” he clenched his fist and reached for the envelope with his other hand. “I hope you have a happy life with someone who loves you more than I did.”

  My breath left my body in a shudder, and whatever hope I’d had of stemming those tears was lost. I pulled the last vestige of our shared love from my ring finger and slid it towards him across the desk.

  “I can’t keep this either, so I’m returning it.” The gem winked at me accusingly, but I didn’t care. Wearing that diamond solitaire had been a part of the beginning to our end, and I knew that now.

  The bastard didn’t even twitch, not even a tremble from his face or body. I took one last look at the man I’d fallen head over heels in love with, and hoped that one day he could feel what I felt for him. That he could understand the absolute acceptance I had of whatever he was knowing what I was getting myself into when he’d approached, asking me to have dinner with
him. If I’d known then what I knew now, I wonder if I would have been so quick to take on the challenge?

  Pushing my weary body from the chair, I walked out of his life without a backward glance.

  Him

  I dialed numbers on my phone and waited.

  “Gerald, I’ll be sending you some paperwork,” I said into the speaker, marveling at how strong my voice was, “please make sure it's taken care of.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was paying attention to his responses or just simply answering in his expectant pauses. Either way, I made a good show of keeping track.

  “And Gerald,” I added, “she crossed through the alimony, so add another document with a lump-sum payment along with the bonds and safe deposit box contents.”

  Listening as he swore and berated me more than she’d done, I knew the harshness of his words was less than I deserved. But I ignored him and held firm.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just do as I say and that’s final.”

  I clicked the end-call button and leaned back, looking out at the cloud-laden sky and speculated on the reason I felt dead inside.

  Having just thrown away the one thing in my life that had ever mattered, how oxygen still entered and left my body, I couldn't understand. Why my heart still beat with a steady rhythm or how blood still pumped around my body was an anomaly that I doubted even scientists could fathom. I should have ceased to exist the day I asked for a divorce. My very existence should have exploded into nothing when I’d forced her to run away and never look back. Why hadn’t I died yet? How the fuck had this body betrayed me like this and kept on living?

  Meeting Rowanne Wilson had been the best thing that’d ever happened to me, yet I’d suffocated and kill what we’d built. My one success was in destroying all the love that woman had had for me because I didn’t value what she’d given me. And for no other reason than I believed I wasn’t good enough for her. With my fucked up way of thinking, I found it strange how someone as damaged and ruined as I was could be good enough for the love she’d shown me.

  So, I’d given Rowanne up rather than have her discover what I was and watch the realization of that destroy her before my eyes. How could I trust that she’d be able to ignore what was glaringly obvious when I remembered ever sordid detail? Even though we’d committed ourselves to each other, I didn’t trust that a word uttered in her presence or a past indiscretion wouldn’t be the fissure to open the other cracks.

  I was a man who belonged to other men as an enforcer, a strong arm, and a confidante to the most heinous of deeds. It wasn’t the life that she deserved. I didn’t want that for Rowanne, not if I could help it and not if I could push her far enough away that she couldn’t see what I really was.

  But I couldn’t tell her any of that. I didn’t dare. She would’ve chosen to fight for what she believed in, and I didn’t know if I would have been able to help her do that and have us walk away winners. The only way I could’ve guaranteed in keeping her by my side was to have changed my life. However it was something I’d realized too late, a process I had started when I was already running out of time and the curtains were set to fall on our performance.

  There was a light knock on the door, causing me to groan and attempt to pull as much of my dignity around me as I could.

  “Come!”

  “Sir?” my assistant said, as the door opened wide enough for him to slip halfway through, “Mr. Sherwin said you’re to meet him at the usual place, and he expects you within the hour.”

  That cheeky asshole, Sherwin, thought demanding my arrival within a specific time gave him the upper hand. He still hadn’t realized I arrived precisely at the time he’d asked, not a second before. I wouldn’t give him any more of my time than was absolutely necessary.

  “Tell Ben I won’t need the car. I’ll be going on the Harley,” I reached for the ring Rowanne had laid on the desk. “And, Dave, take the rest of the afternoon off.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I could hear the surprise in his voice as he pulled the door shut before he left.

  Turning the ring with my large fingers, I marveled at how small it was. It couldn’t even slip over the second knuckle on my pinky, fitting so snuggly around the first that it looked comical. All the months we’d shared came back to haunt me upon reflection. I reminisced over how we’d searched for the ring together, pulling out every tray in the jeweler’s shop until we’d exhausted our choices and almost left. But when, the owner had called Rowanne over and handed her a closed box with a story behind it, I knew it had to be special. Inside that plain velvet box sat the ring I now wore, and the look on Rowanne’s face when she first saw it still gave me butterflies.

  I'd only been able to control my need to claim her long enough to whisk her off to Gretna Green over a weekend that saw us return as man and wife. We’d held a small ceremony a few months before which no one knew about except a select few. It hadn’t taken long for our happiness to crumble within weeks, just as I knew it would even though I'd taken the steps anyway. The divorce papers had been the last, desperate straw at clinging to the tattered vestiges of a love that should have stayed mine.

  My chest felt constricted for a second as a tight band of sorrow squeezed. I breathed, exhaling all the pain and longing I’d held on to for the last few months, months that had seen my relationship with Row crack and shatter into less than nothing. The breath that heaved itself over my lips shuddered, stuttered, and caused a spasm as I broke apart inside.

  Reaching up, my hand came away from my face damp. It shocked me that I still had the ability to shed tears because I hadn’t cried since I was a boy. And yet, here I sat, weeping like Santa had forgotten me again this year.

  1

  Her

  I hated doing favors for my boss. And this was the type I hated the most. After a long day at the office, meeting clients at some sleazy bar in the West End was not my cup of tea. When the only thoughts running through my mind were to make my way home and put my feet up, meetings with a new client weren’t on the agenda. Being a high profile architect meant I had obligations to my boss that I couldn’t easily avoid. One of which was to meet this clown after work when I’d been rushed off my feet all day, visiting sites and meeting with our regular clients that had ongoing projects. Why my damn fool boss thought he could throw me at another project before I was finished with those I had was beyond my understanding.

  Checking out the well-stocked bar, I knew it was too early for alcohol, but the thought of a stiff, fortifying drink to get through the next few hours had me choosing my poison with care.

  “What will it be?”

  With my elbows resting on the bar, I contemplated my options. If I went hard and ordered whiskey there was a chance I’d be seen as unprofessional in the eyes of a new client. The temptation to not give a fuck what anyone thought of me was spurred on at the sight of some fine specimens on the shelf. Or I could go light and order a wine spritzer and wait until I was in the safety of my own home to throw the gloves off and kick back.

  Sighing, I made my choice, promising a consolation prize when I got home. “Give me a white wine spritzer,” I said with regret, “none of the fancy stuff, and hold the ice.”

  He grinned and went to prepare my drink.

  For a mid-week evening, the bar was a bustling hive of activity. Most customers were seated in curtain-backed booths with a table between them, hanging out in little groups. The centered tables were filled with small plates of appetizers and half-filled glasses that they chatted over. A mix of black garbed bar staff busily attended to order requests. Low music played in the background against the hum of conversation, and I wondered how many other business related meetings were taking place tonight.

  The bartender came back with my drink in hand and slid it across the bar towards me. I eased my ass cheek up on the high stool and took a deep, slow sip. Bubbles burst on my tongue and the tart crispness of the wine oozed through me in a relaxing wave.

  “May I ask you a question?” I pursed my l
ips and placed the wineglass on the bar.

  The barman was idling by the casks of beer on the back bar, watching me. He nodded and flicked his cloth at an invisible speck on the spotless bar.

  “I’m supposed to be meeting a client here.” His brows rose and a sly smirk crossed his lips. “Not that kind of client. Drag your mind out the gutter for a second.”

  He laughed and put both hands on the bar. “Lady, you’re good. Not many can get a laugh out of me.”

  “I was gonna be a comedienne, but someone threw an apple at me and I changed my mind,” I snarked.

  “Whoa…” He threw his head back with a bark of laughter. “Okay, ask away.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed, shaking my head. “I’m meeting a client, Andrew Sherwin,” I explained. “I’m an architect.”

  The bartender gave me a strange glance and crossed his arms. “So?”

  “Look, it’s a little late for me to be playing forty questions.” I shook my head again. “Do you know him? Is he here?”

  He smiled a tight grin. “Darling, everyone knows him. This is his bar.”

  I gave the bar a closer look, but it still looked like a sleazy den to me. “Fine. Is he here yet?”

  He gave me a warm smile. “Lady, he just walked through the door.”

  Turning, I watched a group of suited men enter the bar. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing in the tightly packed group. Then they sorted themselves into a kind of hierarchy, with two individuals moving to the front to clear the way, while another identical pair took positions at the back. It reminded me of something from a movie, and I almost laughed aloud at the sight until he came into view. And good Lord, what a view.