Page 78 of Knot for Sale

Gabriel made a disgruntled noise but refrained from commenting.

Elijah’s cheeks went bright red, but he muttered, “Thanks.” He lifted his gaze to a point slightly beyond Gabriel’s left shoulder and added, “Think about what I said, okay?” And then he made his escape, disappearing into the guest room he’d claimed earlier.

I rounded on Gabriel, swallowing a sigh.

“Fuck,” he swore—rather uncharacteristically.

“What’s this thing you’re supposed to be thinking about, then?” I asked.

Gabriel turned and slumped back against the same patch of wall Elijah had just vacated, wincing as it jarred his wound. “The omegas have offered to go public with what happened to them. Or to do whatever else it takes to blow this case open.”

I considered that. “Huh. Too bad about the—”

“Libel laws, yes,” Gabriel finished. “I did explain that part.”

With a nod, I paced a few steps down the hall and back, thinking. “He does have a point about needing to shake things up somehow.”

“Believe me, I’m aware.” He ran his good hand through the tousled blond mess of his hair, disarranged from its usual neat styling by the truly spectacular snogging session I’d interrupted. “I don’t think that’s the right strategy, though.”

“Agreed. Too many possible pitfalls. Other options?” I prodded, because my prat of an employer might be an idiot, but he was also a genius.

Gabriel shook his head slowly and pushed away from the wall. “None that don’t essentially end up using them as bait.” His tone was grim. “Which, I hasten to add, I’m unwilling to do.”

“I’m right there with you,” I said. “Mind you, that brings us back to the part where they’re stuck here for an indeterminate length of time with no idea what the future will bring.”

“Indeed. ‘Like fairytale princesses locked in a tower,’” he continued under his breath, as though quoting someone.

I raised an eyebrow. “At least we’re in the right neighborhood for that kind of thing, with the palace being just down the road and all.”

Gabriel let out a gusty sigh. His shoulders sagged. His dick, I couldn’t help noticing,hadn’t.

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do about this, Curran?Christ. If you hadn’t walked in when you did, I would’ve had him right up against the wall.”

“It’s a scent match,” I said simply. “It’s not magic on its own—but you already liked them. We all do. Combined with regular garden-variety attraction, it’s like fuckin’ crack cocaine.”

“But what am I supposed todo?” he repeated. “Do you have any idea how this would look from the outside, after what happened on theTitania?”

I peered at him, frowning. “You suddenly wake up this morning giving a shit about what people think of you? Huh. That’s new.”

He glared at me. “It’s not just me, you sarcastic twat. It’s their reputations, too.”

“So, maybe you can letthemworry abouttheirreputations, instead of doin’ it for them,” I suggested.

The look he shot me said I wasn’t helping.

“I’m an alpha,” he growled. “Maybe not a very good one—but worrying about omegas is hardwired in. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to start with the overthinking.”

I lifted my eyes toward the ceiling, exasperated. “Who the hell told you that you weren’t a good alpha, you pasty-faced, blond-haired prat? Fine. Go on. Overthink for a bit. We can talk when you’re done.”

I was sneaking a sandwich from the kitchen a couple hours later when Emma slipped in, looking around the room as though to ensure I was alone.

“Evening, beautiful,” I greeted, saluting her with ham and cheese on rye. “Want something to eat?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. I need to talk to you.Alone.”

I set the sandwich on its fancy china plate and hitched a hip against the granite countertop. “Talk away.”

“Seriously,” she said. “I need your word that this will stay between us, Curran.”

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