Page 48 of Knot a Good Idea

It’s still hard for me to say the word.

I hate even thinking about it.

There’s a beat of silence on the other end. “I do.”

“Then when you see a deposit in there, make sure it moves directly into the business account.”

“Um…how much will there be?”

“Just move it in and don’t panic when you see it. It’s not a mistake.”

“…okay. Can I still not ask any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what the fuck, April?” Skylar sighs, exasperated.

The dress is stunning. It’s a strapless floor length gown with subtle sequins that dazzle when it hits the light at the right angle. It’s sexy, but chic.

I can’t help but smile even as my friend panics.

“That’s all you have to do, Skye. If you’re not comfortable doing it, I will. But I just didn’t want you to be surprised when you saw that donation in there. I need you totrustme.”

“I do,” she says. “You know I always trust you. I’m just worried.”

“You always worry, too.” I step into a pair of black strappy heels, eyeing my feet in the floor-length mirror against the closet.

“Are they at least nice? Are they good guys?”

I pause and think about how they make me feel. I glance at the crystal rose that sits on the polished wood nightstand next to the bed.

Then I look at my face in the mirror. The dark circles are still there, but they’ve faded slightly. There’s a subtle flush on my face that wasn’t there a week ago.

“I think so,” I say slowly, thinking of Liam’s gentle smile, Hunter’s playful smirk, and Donovan’s knowing gaze.

“Well, as good as billionaires can be,” Skylar mutters. “Tell them to open twenty cafes for us.”

I scoff. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I’m telling you, fifty dollars a macaron. They’ll eat them up.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say.

I have a feeling those Alphas would give me anything I asked for, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I meetDonovan downstairs in the kitchen late in the morning. He’s dressed in low hanging sweatpants and a dark grey shirt, and I try not ogle him as he stands over the stove.

I don’t understand why his pack would need anyone to pretend to be their Omega when most would throw themselves at him.

And he knows about me—I’m sure that background check told him every detail about my past.

So why didn’t he send me home last night?

He turns to me, and I swallow. His eyes are icy and calculated as he looks at me, searching my gaze. His scent is just as delicious as before, intoxicating and mouthwatering, an ocean breeze with the promise of rain.

“We’re leaving in four hours,” he says simply. “We should keep preparing you before then. I don’t doubt you’ll do well, but the more information I can give you, the better.”

I nod. There’s no flirting or playfulness in his tone; it’s strictly business.

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