An Alpha's Heart

by Sara Allen

  “I’ll try to get someone to take you there in the next few days.” He checked his watch. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Wilson, but I’m afraid I have to leave.”

  “No, not at all,” I responded, rising from my seat. “I look forward to hearing from you in the next few days then.”

  “You can be sure of it,” he said, shaking my hand. He smiled a quick quirk of his mouth and left my office.

  The week after seeing the plot of land Dave Turner wanted me to build his house on was a busy one. The space was inspiration itself, with a high promontory at its back while the front rolled out to the ocean set as the horizon beyond. It was remote enough to feel private, yet within reach of the small town and major transport with a short fifteen-minute drive.

  When Dave had asked me what I thought, I’d told him with as much honesty as I could muster that if I was able to afford a plot of land to build a house on, this would be it. His smile had stretched so wide that I wondered why he didn’t tick off my reaction on a list. Shrugging, I’d ventured to the furthest edge and looked out over the valley with the blue-gray water spread out in the distance.

  Dave was supposed to arrive within the next hour for the consultation, and I was nervous, because the feeling that I needed to make him something that didn’t fit had been fighting me all the way. I’d tried and failed to create what he wanted, but my designs invariably circled back to how I saw him.

  At a knock, I turned as Mags opened the door and ushered Dave Turner through the door. I approached with my hand out and greeted him with a smile.

  “Please take a seat, Mr. Turner.”

  “I thought we were past that Mister-and-Miss thing.” He smiled disarmingly. “Please call me Dave.”

  “Yes. Sorry,” I gushed and had to stop myself from apologizing for doing such a shitty job on his design.

  He glanced around expectantly. “Well, let me see it.”

  I rubbed slick hands down my pants legs and pulled the plans from my work table. Spreading them out on the desk, I invited him over to take a closer look. His disappointment was immediate, and I sighed.

  “I’m sorry, Dave,” I said. “It’s just that the space, the requirements you gave me and you…” I pointed at him. “Don’t match.”

  His lips were a line, and I wondered what he’d do with the disappointment that emanated off him.

  “I can revise the drawings for you,” I pointed at the three sheets of paper. “Just tell me what you like in any of these and I’ll try my best to put them together in a coherent concept.”

  He studied the three drawings, shaking his head. I’d really messed up this time, and I had no idea how to fix it.

  “Don’t you have anything that’s pre-drawn?” he asked. “Something that could fit my requirements.”

  My eyes flicked to the document roll in the corner. “What do you mean?”

  He shifted, a serious expression on his face. “I asked if you have anything that you’ve designed before that could fit my requirements?” He looked speculative. “I know you architects are always creating weird concepts that no one is brave enough to invest in. Do you have anything like that?”

  Ash’s house burned a hole in my mind. I didn’t want to show anyone that design, but it was exactly what Dave Turner was asking for.

  “I have a concept, but it was made with someone else in mind, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”

  He smiled. “Well, let me see it.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe it won’t suit me at all.”

  “I really shouldn’t be offering you this.” I bit the side of my mouth, twisting my fingers in indecision. Retrieving the document roll felt like I was betraying a memory I held close to my chest, and I prayed that Dave wouldn’t like it at all.

  It seemed the design itself was reluctant to unroll and be revealed, and each time I pushed at the rolled-up paper, it would flick back into its tightly curled form. I sighed once and swore, and pushed the paper flat with force, anchoring the hedges with paperweights on the four corners.

  The design still brought back a vision of Ash’s face, the tattoo etched around his eye, and his hands, inked and blacked with those intricate designs I’d never heard the story of. Just the strength of the building on paper reminded me of how he’d stood that day, like a granite monolith against time and the seasons. This house was still beautiful and should only be recreated for the one it was designed for.

  “I’m sorry, Dave.” I moved a paperweight and the paper began re-rolling, covering itself and its secrets. “But I can’t—”

  “Wait!” The command stilled my hand. “That’s it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s exactly it, the design I’ve been looking for.” He gestured, his face a mask of delight. “Build this for me, please.”

  And like that, the house I’d conceived with Ash in mind was going to be lifted from the paper and placed into a landscape that fit it perfectly.

  24

  Him

  “How did the meeting go, Dave?”

  “Everything went fine, sir.”

  My assistant placed a document on the desk and stepped back. I looked at the contract like it was a death sentence. If Rowanne knew I was building this house for her, she’d refuse any part of it. But it had to be done. Just as the land I’d bought had been with her in mind, so too the house that would sit on it.

  Even if I couldn’t get her out of my mind, I wanted to do these things for her. I wanted her to have the best of everything that I could provide for her. Then, maybe then, she’d see me as a man she could rely on. A man that would do anything to keep her even if I had to use under-handed tactics to accomplish my goal.

  “Thanks, Dave,” I said, my eyes never leaving the paperwork. “Keep me informed on the progress.”

  “Of course, sir.” Dave turned and left my office, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Only then, when I was alone within the confines of my own space, did I reach for the plan and work schedule.

  The house was the same as that day I’d seen it. A little cleaner around the lines and how it would fit into the landscape, but this was the house Rowanne had designed with me in mind. As I scanned through the floor plan, I noticed she’d added small details, such details that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, but which I knew she’d added because she saw how it would work for me. It got me thinking, pondering if she still had feelings for me, but I knew if I started thinking about that, it wouldn’t be good for either of us.

  The work schedule gave a time limit of six months, and it gave me a scheme to work by to set everything else in place. If I was smart, I’d use the time wisely and secure my spot with Rowanne. Both of us deserved to be happy, if she’d let us.

  Her

  We were four months into Dave Turner’s build and we’d hit a problem. Something unforeseen that could put the whole timetable back by at least three months, time that neither of us had. I’d signed off on getting the build finished within a framework, and as money was no object, I was determined to see this through to the end so long as that end wasn’t today.

  “Simon,” I snapped when he finally answered his mobile. “Where are you?”

  “I’m about twenty minutes away.” He sounded breathless. “Are you there yet?”

  “I should be there in about ten minutes.” I was worried that this was going to fall down around our ears like a domino wall. “Do you know if Turner will be there?”

  “From what the boys said, if he’s not there, someone with authority will be.”

  “Okay.” I sighed. There was nothing we could do about this but get it sorted. “I’ll see you on site then.”

  I clicked off my phone and put my foot down. If I could get there on time, I could avert the impending disaster and appease Turner or whoever was there in his place. I just hoped it wasn’t as serious as they were making out. Hopefully, the problem could be fixed with a slight shift in the building plan.

  It seemed that a wall had collaps
ed, a load-bearing wall at that couldn’t be removed and ensure the building was structurally sound. Anything of this magnitude was a disaster unless it could be rectified. What I needed to do was get there in time to see what could be done before the client blew a gasket and changed the work crew and me along with them. But I had to get there first.

  Turning into the site, I watched as Simon’s team stood around idly, talking quietly amongst themselves. I quickly parked and jumped out of my car and headed for the foreman, Bill.

  “What’s going on?” I pulled my jacket closed against the chilly wind and looked over the building site.

  Bill pushed back his hard hat and scratched his head. “I think we had a little too much rain over the last few days, and that undermined the foundation on that side of the building,” he explained, pointing to a jumble of building blocks. “The whole wall didn’t exactly come down, but it needs shoring up, and the only way to do that safely will be to take it down completely.”

  “Is there an alternative?”

  He laughed. “There’s always an alternative.”

  “Then let’s look at options.” I looked around the site. “Where’s Turner?”

  “He didn’t come,” Bill said, and scowled. “Someone else did. He’s sitting in his car.” He pointed to a black sedan, “Over there.”

  “Thanks Bill,” I smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  Walking towards the car, I could see nothing of the interior. The windows were tinted a deep, mysterious black. As I approached, the door swung open and an older man with silvering hair stepped out, closing the door behind him. I put on my brightest smile and held out my hand in greeting.

  “Hello,” I said. “I’m Rowanne Wilson, the architect.”

  He seemed to do a double take and peered at me closely. He took my hand in his and shook it firmly. “Pleased to finally meet you, Ms. Wilson.”

  “You have me at a disadvantage, sir,” I replied. “Should I know you?”

  He grinned. “I’m Andrew Sherwin’s father,” he supplied. “A wonderful job you did on his house, although I wasn’t sure about it when you first started.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sherwin.” I said, feeling pride lift my shoulders with the praise.

  He pointed to the build. “So, what’s the problem?”

  I looked at the carcass of the house, the open plan design like an empty maw waiting to be filled. “Rain, apparently.”

  “Can you fix it in time?”

  Mr. Sherwin senior was no-nonsense, and I appreciated his forthright questions.

  “Well, let’s go over and see what they can do.” I pointed him towards the builders, and Simon who’d just driven up and jumped out of his car.

  We took twenty minutes discussing the options and remedies to the excess water that had come down off the granite hills behind the build site. It meant that there was an old watershed up in the hills that needed to be diverted if possible to prevent future run-off problems. But Sherwin suggested we raise the house slightly and channel the water flow. When I thought about it, it was a good idea and would add another dimension to the house that not even I had considered.

  “What do you think, Simon?” I gauged his face. “Do you think it's possible with how far we are into this?”

  The pen sticking out of his mouth moved with his thoughts, and I feared he might swallow the damn thing if he wasn’t careful.

  “We’ll have to dig the foundation pillars deeper,” he said, eyeing the blueprints. “And it’s going to cost.”

  “Money is no object,” stated Sherwin, his hands jammed into his pockets. “This needs to be done right. That’s all that concerns me.”

  “Okay,” Simon said, a smile cracking his face. “Let’s get it done.”

  Sherwin nodded and turned towards me. “May I have a word, Ms. Wilson?”

  “Of course.” I jumped, startled at his tone.

  He led me away from the builders who stood pointing at the building and the plans, deciding how best they could add the new additions. I could see they’d have to knock down before they could build up and as Sherwin stopped, I was determined to explain just that.

  I cleared my throat. “They may have to knock down some of what they’ve built,” I began. “But it will be better than trying to change what’s already there.”

  He nodded absently, a crease between his brows. He waved away my explanation, and I worried that he wasn’t happy with the progress or the problem we’d encountered. I waited for him to speak his mind and accept whatever penalty he decided to slap us with.

  “Look, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I think I must.” His hands jammed themselves back into his trouser pockets and I wondered what he was talking about.

  “I know it looks bad, but believe me—”

  “The build is fine,” he said, interrupting me. “That’s not what I want to discuss.” He breathed out a sigh. “It's the client I want to discuss with you.”

  “Mr. Turner?” I inquired, confused.

  His eyes flicked over to his sedan. “You could say that.”

  “What about him?”

  He seemed to be fighting with himself before he came to a decision. “I’ve known Mr. Turner since he was a scruffy teenage boy more angry at the world than an angry cat with its tail caught in a trap.” He took a breath. “But that boy has always viewed loyalty as number one. It’s one of the things that make him special.”

  “I’m… I’m not sure what that has to do with me, Mr. Sherwin,” I stammered.

  He glanced at the grassed ground. “You probably think it has nothing to do with you, Ms. Wilson, but it has everything to do with you.”

  My mouth opened and closed, yet no sound came out.

  “He’s not who you think he is.” The look he gave me begged to be understood. “And even though he doesn’t know how to express himself properly, he’s as loyal to those he loves as anyone I know.” Sherwin straightened his shoulders. “If you don’t know enough about him, then you should ask and don’t be afraid to keep asking. That boy deserves to be loved just like anyone, and he’s his own worst enemy. Believe me on that.” His eyes flicked to the car again before they came back to rest on me.

  “I think you have me mixed up with someone else, Mr. Sherwin.”

  He laughed, a mirthless, cynical sound that came from his throat. “I may be old, Ms. Wilson, but I’m not senile, yet. I know what I see even if the two people concerned think they can hide it.” He turned towards his car. “Just do me a favor.” He looked at me, waiting for an answer.

  All I could do was nod yes, because I knew that’s what he was waiting for.

  “Don’t look at the surface, look deeper. Think about what’s going on around you and believe what you see. Not everything is always as clear cut as it seems.” He held my gaze for a few seconds. “I’ll see you again, Ms. Wilson.” He inclined his head and marched off towards his sedan, opening the door and sliding inside without a backward glance.

  I watched as the car rolled out of the site and onto the road, disappearing down the hill and into the distance.

  My mind whirled with possibilities and questions. I couldn’t help but think that Sherwin senior was indeed senile. Either that or what I thought I was doing here was a complete farce.

  25

  Him

  New Year's Eve, and exactly eight months after I’d commissioned Rowanne to finally build the house she’d designed for me all those years ago. The problem with the build four months previously had meant that the official finish had to be pushed back. I couldn’t complain, because it meant that I was finally able to throw a huge party and invite Rowanne without her being suspicious of the motive.

  Watching Rowanne from afar was all the liberty that I allowed myself. I knew that anything more would have spoiled what I was trying to achieve. I was no longer Andrew’s anything. That role had been filled by others more willing to be Andrew’s baby sitter than I’d ever been. Thankfully, he’d calmed down a lot with the impending birt
h of their first child. It meant that the security detail that trailed him day and night were able to relax when he was home with his family.

  I, on the other hand, had found ways to expand and improve my business. What had once been a series of houses that I managed, bought, and resold was now an extremely lucrative property development enterprise that I could finally step back from and allow it to run itself. The individuals who worked under me were competent enough and knew my preferences so well that they could make decisions without consulting me first.

  It was time for me to claim back a part of my life that I’d let flap in the wind for too long.

  The interior of the house was everything that I’d imagined it would be. From the open plan, fully-fitted kitchen, to the central focus fireplace with its shining steel chimney that shot up from the lowest ground floor to the top of the house and out.

  The lower floors housed the gym, steam room, and pool, that appeared to be external, yet somehow, remained a part of the house. There were secluded areas that promised a private intimacy for those who desired it as well as an inviting communal area for when guests were in attendance, such as now.

  The party served three functions. Opening up the house for the few friends and acquaintances that I deemed worthy of spending this time of year with me. A welcoming in the New Year celebration and finally seeing Rowanne face to face for the first time in almost three years.

  Only one of those had me questioning my sanity with the decisions I was making. But I was determined to stop hiding and face her, regardless of what she chose to do. I knew that I’d do whatever it took to win her back irrespective of the consequences. My need for her was still as strong as it had been all those years ago, but now, I knew where I’d gone wrong and I wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

  Besides, she had to see the house I’d built for her, didn’t she?

  Her

  Why Dave Turner invited me to his New Year’s cocktail party, I wasn’t really sure and the only thing I could assume was to show off his architect. I was okay with that because it would help me network and hopefully, find new clients for the next year.