I am left wondering, though. If Archer is so sure that this girl is the one, then how come he didn’t come to meet her himself? I puzzled over this question the entire flight down to California and came up with no good answers to satisfy my curiosity.
In fact, I’ve already half-decided that I’ll botch this meeting and tell the others that her profile was greatly exaggerated, fake pics and all.
But then I see her.
And that first glimpse of Violet Steele is something I will never forget.
I watch, entranced, as she glides into the room and takes a seat at the far end of the loveseat. A whoosh of her cherry-vanilla perfume envelops me, then she speaks in a soft, husky voice that immediately has me on board.
“Hello, Alpha Miles.” She glances up at me from beneath heavy, dark lashes and I just can’t rip my eyes away.
Violet has already entranced three of my senses, and the other two desperately want to come out to meet her. To see how she feels. Tastes.
I just met this woman, and already I want her. Need her.
“Thank you for coming today,” she continues with a practiced smile. Somehow I know it’s not a true display of happiness. It’s not her. Suddenly I want to see the real her, and I want it more than anything.
I feel my smile slip from my face before I can stop it, then run a hand through my hair in frustration—a nervous tic the others are constantly teasing me over.
Violet’s eyes drop to her lap where her hands sit neatly folded. “I hope you had a good journey,” she murmurs, that earlier show of confidence gone, along with that fake smile I so detested.
She’s wearing a floor-length white dress with a deep V in both the front and back. Expensive-looking jewelry glistens from her neck, wrist, and earlobes, and her lips are painted a deep burgundy. It doesn’t escape me that she’s done up like a bride on her wedding day.
The maneuver reeks of desperation, but then again, as a guy I’m probably not expected to notice. At least not consciously.
“At last we meet,” a woman I presume to be the girl’s mother crows, then leans in to kiss me on each cheek, doing so with great fervor. Yes, this is definitely Sage Steele, the eager matriarch that collaborated with Archer to arrange this whole awkward meeting.
And the physical resemblance between this woman and her daughter is striking. Both have shapely hourglass figures, sharp cheekbones, and pouty lips. Sage’s hair is cut into a stylish pixie, popular with women of a certain age, while Violet’s dark hair is pulled back into a tight updo.
But I’m guessing the similarities end with their appearances, given that Violet won’t meet my gaze while her mother won’t stop gawking at me.
“You’ve had a long journey. Can I offer you some refreshments?” Mrs. Steele asks, clasping her hands together and beaming as if everything’s already decided, when in fact nothing’s been decided at all.
Violet flinches at the sound of the older woman’s voice, and that tension doesn’t leave her. She wears it in the sharp line of her neck, in the exaggerated rise of her shoulders.
“Tea?” I ask politely, mostly to send our chaperone away so I can ask Violet a few questions in private.
Mrs. Steele nods and sashays toward the kitchen, unable to hide her overt sexuality even though she’s a mated omega nearly twice my age.
Violet, on the other hand, keeps hers bound by lock and key. She’s so unlike the other omegas the guys have sent me to meet on their behalf. There are no coquettish gestures, no lingering touches. Only a tense silence that falls between us.
I so badly want to smash through that silence. For her to look at me and like what she sees, to smile even.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She nods pertly and smooths the skirt over her lap. “I’m just a little nervous is all. I need to make my choice soon. I’m almost twenty-one,” she says glibly, though something has her on edge, and my money’s on the mother.
“What are you looking for in a pack?” I ask, running a hand through my shaggy blond hair again. I catch myself and jam both hands into my pockets. It’s awkward given that I’m currently seated, but it beats accidentally showcasing my tic again.
Violet’s breath hitches and she raises her dark eyes to meet mine. “Alphas usually don’t ask that.”
“Well, too bad. I’m asking. Your happiness is important too.”
A small smile flashes across her face but is quickly replaced by a more staid expression. “I don’t know,” she says after a moment’s pause. “I’m still figuring that out, I guess. But I’m sure I’ll be very happy with whatever you and your pack can offer, Alpha Miles. I’ll learn to adapt, like a good omega does.”
These are not her words. I can practically see Sage Steele standing behind her pulling at the strings for this unsettling puppet show, despite the fact that she’s still tinkering around in the kitchen.
Violet glances up at me again to see how her words landed, and I must not be smiling because she quickly turns away and mumbles something I can’t quite make out.