Page 15 of Seen Knot Heard

He saunters past the untouched food on the table, a warm smile playing on his lips as if this were a pleasant social call. He wears a suit, so he’s stopping by during his lunch break, and his dark-blond hair lies slicked back, not a strand out of place. He’s the picture of ease, but it’s unsettling, a veneer of charm masking the danger beneath.

Predatory blue eyes fix on me as he nears. “Hard at work, I see.” He nods at my laptop. “I hope that’s what’s keeping you from your meals, and it’s not because you find my chef distasteful. I would hate to have to fire her. She’s been with me for years.”

A sour ball of guilt forms at the thought of costing someone her job. “No, the food is wonderful. I was just caught up in writing.”

“That’s good to hear.” His nostrils flare as he breathes in my scent. “I’d love to read what you’ve been so hard at work on all week.”

I clutch the device tighter, the laptop digging against my ribs. “Thank you, but I prefer to wait until it’s perfect before sharing it.”

“Ever the perfectionist, aren’t you?” Louie chuckles as he settles on the edge of the mattress. “But I like that about you. Your eye for detail.”

Louie studies me, his head tilted to the side. “I imagine it must be difficult, trying to write in an unfamiliar environment, without your usual comforts. Some authors have rituals they go through to get in the right headspace. Are you like that?”

I scoot backward to press my back against the wall. “I have some touchstones I like to keep at my desk. Not having them here throws me a bit off balance, making it harder to focus.”

Louie’s expression softens, but a calculated air remains, like he wears a mask of sympathy that he slips on and off at will. “I understand, darling. It’s an adjustment, being here with me. You’ll settle in soon enough.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I force out.

His hand runs over the soft comforter. “Tell me about these touchstones you miss?”

I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “Just silly things. Sentimental trinkets.”

Louie reaches out to touch my bare foot, and I steel myself not to flinch back even as revulsion coils in my gut. “Indulge me. I want to know everything about you.”

The words stick in my throat, loathe to give him even this piece of me. “Well, there’s this old troll doll I’ve had since I was akid, with bright pink hair, just like mine. I used to come up with all sorts of stories about her adventures.”

His fingertips trace over the hard knob of my ankle. “And the other?”

I lick my lips, missing the artificial flavor of strawberry from my favorite lip gloss. “A quartz crystal I got at a psychic fair back in university. The woman who sold it to me said it would give me clarity and protection.”

“Quite the eclectic collection, but surely there’s something here that will inspire you?” His hand slides higher, slipping beneath the wide leg of my lounge pants to cup my calf.

The implication hangs heavy in the air, and I fight the instinct to recoil, knowing I can’t afford to provoke him.

Not yet.

As if he can read my thoughts, Louie’s smile widens. “Or, if they will help you feel more at home, I can bring those things here for you.”

Bile rises in my throat at the thought of Louie’s hands on my cherished treasures, tainting them with his touch. Thank goodness they’re still on Misty Pines with my work laptop. The thought of him violating the sanctity of my private spaces, rifling through my past is too much to bear.

I shake my head, dislodging a few strands of hair from my messy bun. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but please don’t go through the trouble. They really are just silly little things. I’ll adapt.”

Louie’s grip on my leg tightens. “It’s no trouble at all. I want you to have everything you desire, Chloe.”

His other hand cups my chin, tilting my face up to his. My heart rabbits behind my ribs as the scent of him floods my senses, slithering into my lungs.

“Let me take care of you,” he croons, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip. “I can give you the world.”

I tremble under his touch, every instinct screaming at me to run, to fight, to do whatever it takes to stop him from claiming me. I force myself to stay still, to look guileless.

“You’re already doing so much,” I breathe, letting a hint of breathy awe color my words. “I couldn’t ask for more.”

Something dark and hungry flashes across his face, his nostrils flaring as he scents the air. “You can ask for anything.” His gaze drops to my chest, heaving with the quick gasps I can’t restrain. “Anything at all.”

He leans in closer, his face a hairsbreadth from mine. I flatten myself against the wall, turning my head away.

His hand slips from my chin to curl around the back of my neck, his fingers twining in the fine hairs at my nape. I suppress a shudder, hating how my Omega instincts clamor for me to submit to an Alpha.