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Allure Page 9

by Christin Lovell


  She walked me through the entire application prudently scripting everything. When we were done she returned the pen to a holder on the desk. “Stay right here. Let me give this to the manager. He’s been interviewing applicants already so let me see if he can squeeze you in.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I could possibly catch a break. “That would be great. Thanks for all your help.”

  “It’s nothing.” She flicked her wrist. “I’ll be right back.”

  I looked around at the inside of the resort. It had an upscale cabin feel to it with log walls, exposed beam, cathedral, wood slat ceilings and a massive stone floor-to-ceiling fireplace in the center of the wall opposite the check-in desk. Earth tones filled the space from the chairs to the granite on the check-in desk. Beautiful large paintings of the mountains and forests hung sporadically on the walls.

  I turned back around to the desk as Kristina returned. She offered me an encouraging smile. “He said to send you back.”

  “Thanks again for all your help.”

  “It was nothing. Hopefully we’ll be working together soon,” she squealed. I think she was more excited for me than I was.

  I opened the door and stopped mid-step at seeing an angry Marco sitting behind the desk with my application. My heart took off in a panic.

  “It’s too late to run. Shut the door.” His voice was woven with authority, and darn if I could deny him.

  I was screaming inside. Of all the resorts, I had to pick this one! I sighed, closing the door and sitting in one of the chairs stationed in front of his desk.

  He was dressed in a sharp gray business suit with a dark teal shirt and black tie. I could see his muscles begging to rip through the seams in the arms and shoulders of the jacket. He looked like a god.

  “I thought we agreed five weeks, Emma,” he stated rather than asked.

  “You and Wilma agreed to five weeks; I didn’t. I can’t. I have a doctor bill for my hand, the repairs on the apartment, rent, utilities, and groceries. I also have to get at least one turtleneck to replace the ruined ones. I can’t go five weeks without pay. I have to work, and if you and Wilma won’t let me, then I’ll apply to some place that will.”

  “The pack will take care of everything.”

  “I don’t want the pack paying for anything that’s mine. It’s not their responsibility.”

  He studied my application again. “While this may be your information, this is Kristina’s handwriting so how exactly do you plan to apply at other places?”

  “With my left.”

  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, furrowing his brows. He opened the full extent of his power on me, locking me into his gaze. “Emma, why won’t you let us take care of you?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “Because you’re a part of the pack and we take care of our own.”

  “I’m not your responsibility.”

  “No, you’re just my mate who is growing more stubborn by the day.” He broke eye contact with me, anger coming off of him in waves.

  I ignored his last comment. “Are you going to give me a job or not?”

  “Yes. Your job is to stay home and recover.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, his lips curling into the beginnings of a snarl.

  “Fine. I’ll go apply somewhere else.” I stood up to leave.

  “Stop right there,” he ordered. He stepped from behind the desk and stood beside me as a roadblock. “How did you get here?”

  I avoided, trying to ignore his question.

  “Emma. Stop ignoring me. How did you get here?” His voice went up a notch.

  “I walked,” I murmured.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s nine miles!”

  “Good exercise?” I offered sheepishly.

  He wasn’t amused in the slightest. “You’re going to be the death of me. I know it.” He shook his head, his left hand casually clutching his hip. “Where’s your wallet?”

  “In my pocket. Why?”

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own. He opened it and handed me a fifty-dollar bill. “Take this. If you need to get anywhere and no one’s around, call a cab. That’s a hell of a lot safer than walking right now.”

  Anger rose up within me. Why was everyone so insistent on bossing me around all of a sudden? “I can’t. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not a charity case, Marco. I’ve survived on my own just fine. It may not be to your standards, but I’m okay with my life the way it is.”

  I tried to walk around him, but he stretched his arm out in front of me, then, wrapping it around me, he pulled me against him so my back was to his chest. He leaned down beside my ear. I felt his warm breath on my neck. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered.

  My heart sprinted steadily. My skin tingled where he gently caressed me, hyperaware of him. I lightly shook my head, not trusting my voice.

  “You do a lot more than you realize.”

  We were interrupted by a knock on the door. He sighed and broke away from me.

  “Yeah?” he asked upon opening it.

  “There are some guests who want to speak with the owner.”

  “Sit and I’ll be right back,” he ordered.

  My stomach twisted into a mess of stress and tension. I couldn’t sit. I could only stand, staring in horror at the door as my heart consistently attempted to pound its way out of my chest and my pulse attempted to deafen me.

  “Are you the owner?” I asked the moment he returned.

  He studied me, his head cocked a little to the right. Satisfied with whatever he saw, he slightly nodded his head.

  “Oh, God.” I cringed. He owns a resort? My God, he is way out of my league. I definitely needed to go. I opened and closed my mouth several times. I couldn’t look at him. “I, uh, need to do something.”

  “Emma, wait,” he called as I rushed past him and out the office door.

  “Do you think you got the job?” Kristina asked hopefully, her voice full of enthusiasm.

  “Doubtful, but thanks for your help,” I replied, rushing out the door into the cold.

  I couldn’t believe he was the owner of a huge, popular and very successful ski resort. I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t help but kick myself for ever succumbing to his persistent flirtations. He and I could never work. I’d known that, kept reminding myself subconsciously, but I ignored it all, and now look where I was: further embarrassed and wondering how I was ever going to face him again.

  I quickly dashed down the walkway, trying to escape as fast as humanly possible. I didn’t know if he was following me. I prayed he wasn’t.

  —

  Chapter Nine

  Less than a quarter mile from the resort’s property, Marco pulled up beside me in his gold Escalade. “Get in.”

  I ignored his request. I was hoping a car would come along, forcing him back to driving on the right side of the road and away from me.

  “Emma, please get in.” His voice was tight.

  “No.” I kept walking.

  “Emma, just get in the car. I’m not asking you for anything more than to let me drive you.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m fine walking, really.” I didn’t look his way. I kept my head straightforward trying to avoid humiliating myself any more than I already had.

  He owned a freaking resort! Meanwhile, I worked at the local diner, lived in a shabby, un-chic apartment and had nothing beyond a high school education.

  “Stubborn girl,” he muttered under his breath. When he pulled onto the shoulder and parked the car, I knew I was in trouble.

  I took off in a run not bothering to look back. If someone runs away from you, they clearly don’t want to be around you at the moment. I was hoping he’d get the hint.

  The cold, crisp air stung my lungs, reminding me yet again of my bruised ribs, with each shallow breath I inhaled. My body cried in rebellion, yet I was gaining mom
entum…and then he caught me. Without breaking stride, he swooped in and scooped me right up.

  I knew it was childish, but I covered my face with my hands. He didn’t say anything as he carried me back to his SUV and buckled me into the front seat. I waited until he shut my door to unveil my face. I couldn’t handle his big brown eyes staring directly at me, especially right now. I needed space. I felt so low, so beneath, and I couldn’t seem to shake my mental dejection.

  He climbed in and pulled back onto the street again. I gave my full attention to the white scenery outside the window.

  “Where to?”

  Where could I go? I needed to go home and collect the money from my hidden stash and go pay my rent, but that was the last place I wanted to see and look at after what I’d just learned. And I especially didn’t want him taking me there.

  But tomorrow was the first and Mr. Greggor was strict. If I didn’t have the money in by then he wouldn’t hesitate to evict me despite my perfect payment history.

  I sighed. Defeat was banging on my door. “Drop me off at my apartment.”

  “It’s not ready yet.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll take you there, but I’m not leaving you there.”

  I didn’t have the strength to argue. We sat in silence as he drove me home.

  I went upstairs to my apartment with Marco in tow. I should have known he wouldn’t stay in the car. I unlocked the door and went straight for the kitchen for a knife then made my way to my secret cubby beneath a loose plank in the floor. I used the knife to jimmy the board up. I grabbed the money, counting to ensure none was missing, and restored the floor. I returned the knife to the kitchen drawer and headed back for the front door.

  I stopped short at Marco inspecting an envelope. “This was on the floor,” he said, passing it to me.

  The front of the envelope said only my name. I flipped it over and found the flap was closed with some sort of seal. I furrowed my brows, flipping it back and forth several times. Who would leave this for me? “Wait. You said it was on the floor. As in, inside my apartment on the floor?”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about. That seal is the crest of the royal family.”

  I tried to make out what it was, but it looked like a blob of nothing to me. I set the money on the counter and opened the envelope. I retrieved the letter from within.

  My Dearest Emma,

  Words cannot express how difficult my life has been without you; I can only imagine yours in return. After twenty years, the time has come for us to finally meet. It’s safe for us now that she’s gone. We shall arrive in three weeks’ time.

  All my love,

  Your mother, Evaline

  I slid down to the floor, reading the letter again and again. After twenty years of nothing, she finally decides she wants to meet? How dare she! My God! She wrote this as if missing twenty years was nothing. She wrote this as if we had been away from each other for only a long holiday and she missed me, but was very much a deserving part of my life. My face pinched as I ground my teeth. How dare she act like she can just waltz right in!

  I stood up, grabbed the money, and walked out the door.

  “Emma!”

  I stopped beyond the doorframe, gazing back at him over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just read it.” I handed him the letter. “Here’s the key. Lock the door behind you.” I tossed him the key and went downstairs to Mr. Greggor’s apartment. I waited for him to answer and handed him the rent money.

  “What’s this for?”

  I shook my head and focused on him. “Huh?”

  “Why are you giving me this?”

  “It’s my rent.”

  “You’re already paid up through the next three months.”

  “But…that can’t be. I didn’t give you that.”

  “I know. A handsome feller did. Someone’s found herself a sugar daddy.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Now, he told me not to tell you that.”

  “Please, Mr. Greggor. I’ve lived here for two years, have never been late with the rent, never caused you any problems, and have never asked you to fix anything in my apartment. Will you please return the favor and tell me?”

  “Well, I suppose I do owe you at least for not bugging me like the rest of these leeches.” His gaze slipped toward the stairs before returning to me. “He said his name was Mr. Raul.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed the money from his hands and ran back upstairs. I found him in the kitchen still reading the letter. I fisted my good hand, trying to calm myself down. I was breathing heavily though, struggling to clear my head and decide which slander to throw at him.

  He looked up at me, his expression neutral, unreadable.

  “I said I was fine, that I could do this on my own. Why do you insist on bashing what little pride I have left every chance you get?”

  He stared at me, his lips pursed.

  “Why, Marco? Why do you insist on trying to rescue someone who doesn’t want to be? For the millionth time, I’m not a charity case!” Tears welled in my eyes. I was so frustrated, annoyed, mortified...I was a basket case with a basket full of emotional distress. I was disheartened with life, by my life. I just didn’t understand what I did that was so wrong to deserve all of this.

  Marco folded the letter and slid it in his pocket. He approached me slowly and cupped my face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away the few tears that had escaped. My nose began to stuff up as I struggled to suppress my upset. “You are not a charity case to me, Emma. You’re my mate. It’s my job to ensure that you’re taken care of and provided for. Whether you like it or not, you will never pay for anything ever again. I’m not doing that out of compassion, though you do deserve it after all you’ve been through. I’m doing it out of obligation. I’m obligated to ensure that you never want for anything. Not because you’re my mate, but because as my mate, I live to make you happy. The saying goes, ‘Happy wives live long lives.’ Even if you don’t want to be with me, as long as I know that I’ve given you the opportunity to live a long, happy life and find success, I’ll be content.”

  I closed my eyes, trying not to tremble. He was beating down the reserves I’d managed to call upon to pull away earlier. He pressed his lips lightly to mine, gently caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. And just like that my anguish melted away. The moment I gave in to his embrace, he revved it up. He pulled me to him, one hand pressed solidly against my lower back and the other wrapped around the side and back of my neck, controlling the angle in which he took me. I leaned into him, savoring the feel of his muscles surrounding me.

  I felt a slow heat building in my lower stomach. I wanted to do things I’d never dreamed of doing with a man, and that scared me. Fighting the urge to cling to him, I pulled back. He feathered my jawline and neck with little kisses.

  “I’m not used to this.” My voice was a choked whisper.

  He kissed me hard allowing me to fully feel the extent of his stiffening restraint. “I’ll always be here for you.” He gazed at me for a few seconds. “Now, about this letter.”

  Talk about an abrupt subject change… I took a steadying breath. “I don’t want to meet her.”

  “It’s up to you whether you decide to or not, but I would encourage you to. You don’t know if you’ll ever get the chance to again.”

  “I never wanted the chance to begin with. Why would I want to meet the woman who gave me away?”

  “To ask her why she did it.”

  “I’m not a mother yet, but I couldn’t imagine giving up my child under any circumstances.”

  “Don’t be naïve, Emma. Usually a woman only gives up her child if it means a better life for the baby.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t imagine how a life amongst werewolf royalty could be worse than living in an orphanage where-” I stopped. I couldn’t go into detail. I didn’t want to relive the nightmare of it. Meriam haunted me to this day. I cringed j
ust thinking about her.

  “Where what, Emma?” He looked at me long and hard. “What happened to you, mi amor?”

  I looked at him, taking in his beautiful face. His nose was the perfect slope, his jawline strong, but not angularly sharp; his eyes were shiny chocolate and melting with concern.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I softly replied.

  His eyes flashed. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I was shutting him out again, but he nodded his head once, letting it go for now.

  “Let’s get out of here. I’ll send a few of the guys to the hardware store tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” I looked at the letter poking up out of his pocket. My blood boiled at seeing it. Marco grabbed my hand and escorted me out.

  After we got back into the car, he looked at me. “I think I know something that will cheer you up. It cheers every woman up.” He smiled, holding my hand across the console in the car.

  “I’m not every woman,” I argued.

  “Humor me,” he challenged.

  Fire lit within me, giving me courage. “Okay. What cheers up every woman?”

  “Shopping.”

  I grimaced. “I’d rather not.”

  “This is non-negotiable. You need clothes and I plan to buy you some.”

  “No way. You just paid for three months of rent.” I shook my head negatively, profusely declining.

  “And I would still buy you the world tomorrow if you’d let me.” He kissed the back of my hand.

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “So?”

  “It’s unnecessary. I’m happy with what I have. I don’t need anything more.”

  “Emma, you wore your work uniform to an interview. I certainly wouldn’t have hired you.”

  I glanced down at my clothes. He had a point, but I felt uneasy. Nothing in life is free; everything has a price, especially if someone else pays for it. I couldn’t fathom what he could want from me, but that’s where my mind wandered every time he did something for me.

  I sighed. “We can go, but I’m paying for my own clothes.”

 

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