Page 74 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

Robert chooses that moment to cut me off, getting to his own feet. “I don’t want a fling, and I don’t want to use you.”

As he rounds the table to me, I hold my ground, meeting his gaze squarely. “Then what do you want?”

“You,” he answers simply, cupping my face. “Just you.”

“It’s not that simple, Robert,” I say heavily, my chest tightening in response to his words. “There is never going to be a ‘you and me.’ Not when you’re the Alpha of a pack. And you know that.”

His jaw tenses. “I’m allowed to choose my happiness.”

“Not when you’re the Alpha,” I repeat emphatically. “And I’m too vulnerable to be caught in the middle of your pack politics.”

I cover his hands on my cheeks with my own, grasping and slowly lowering them. The panic in his eyes is hard to witness.

“Look at me,” he says firmly. “Look at my face, Charlotte. I’m a monster. I don’t want to spend my life being tied to someone who despises my face, somebody my own wolf refuses to accept, because that’s what will happen. Are you really going to condemn me to life with a woman who just wants my money and status?”

His words make me feel horrible. The worst part is that I know it’s the truth. If Robert ends up marrying a woman from his pack who finds his scars repulsive, he will be miserable for the rest of his life. I don’t want Robert to be miserable. His happiness matters to me.

“My wolf is crazy about you, and so am I,” he whispers. “Give me a good reason why you don’t want me. If it’s my face, you can tell me. I won’t get upset.”

My hand lifts to caress his left cheek, and my lips twist of their own accord. “I don’t care about your scars. I think I might even have a matching set now. I just don’t want you to be in a position where you will suffer because of me. I’m not w—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it, Charlotte.” Robert takes my hands and kisses the tips of my fingers. “To me, you’re worth it. I want you. You drive me insane, every part of you. So, what else is there? What other reason do you have?”

I try to think of something, but my mind is going blank as Robert’s teeth nibble at the edge of my fingers. I know this is a losing battle. He has already won.

From the look in his eyes, he knows it, too.

“Fine.” As the word leaves my mouth, my heart feels light, the tension I had been holding on to abating. “Alright, you win.”

I see the way his eyes light up, and my heart does a summersault in my chest at the sight.

This happiness—it can’t be a bad thing, right?

Chapter 15

Charlotte Sanguinite

Robert’s home is a four-bedroom house with a large yard that is well-maintained.

With Mano in my arms, I look around as I enter through the front door. A woman is waiting for us by the stairs, and she hurries over. She looks to be in her late fifties, and she smiles at me.

“You must be Miss Beaumont. I’ve prepared a room for you. I also took the liberty of setting up a litter box in your room and in two of the main areas of the house so that your cat will be comfortable, as well.”

Robert wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Charlotte, meet Mrs. Mallory. She’s the housekeeper. If you need anything, you can go to her. If you want to change something or the decor isn’t to your liking, Mrs. Mallory will help you set things up according to how you want them.”

I blink at him. “This is your home. Why would I change the decor?”

He gives me a sly smile before looking over at the beaming housekeeper. “Mrs. Mallory, did you put Charlotte in the room next to mine?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Mallory nods. “I even got a catalog for some cat toys and houses so that Miss Beaumont can choose what she would like me to order.”

“Order?” I feel dazed. “I don’t need to order anything. I’m not very fussy, Mrs. Mallory. And I brought Mano’s litter box—”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Mallory takes my bag from me. “It’s about time Robert brought a woman home. I always say it’s the woman who sets the tone of the house. This place has been needing a woman’s touch for a long time.”

“What?” I feel like I’m being bulldozed right now.

Mrs. Mallory is behaving as if Robert just brought home a wife rather than a guest. She’s a shifter, as well, but I can’t sense any hostility from her.

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