Page 55 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
“How… rustic,” she says finally. “Very different from Ashcroft Media.”
I nod, already looking for an escape route. “It suits me. Listen, I need to get back to work—”
“Wait,” she says, stepping closer. Her voice drops, taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Does Marcus know you’re here? He’sbeen looking for you, you know. Says you two have ‘unfinished business.’”
“I have nothing to say to Marcus,” I manage, my voice harder than before. “And my whereabouts are none of his concern.”
Jessica’s expression shifts, a calculating look replacing her faux friendliness. “He’d be very interested to know where you’ve landed, especially since you left him looking like the villain in everyone’s eyes. Do you know what it did to his reputation when you disappeared? The rumors that started?”
“Whatever rumors circulated were likely closer to the truth than the story he told,” I say, anger beginning to override my fear. “He attacked me, Jessica. He tried to force a bond. Sell my heat for investors, and that’s beside everything else.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “He says it was a misunderstanding. That you led him on, made him think you wanted the bond, then panicked and ran.” Her eyes narrow. “He’s been worried about you, Emma. Concerned.”
Marcus isn’t concerned; he’s furious. An alpha like him, used to getting what he wants, doesn’t take rejection well—especially not such public rejection.
“I need to go,” I say firmly, stepping back. “Enjoy your visit to the farm.”
“I think Marcus would really like to know you’re here,” she continues, her tone making it clear this is a threat. “Working at a little farm in the middle of nowhere. Hiding.” She smiles, the expression not reaching her eyes. “He always said you were wasting your potential, suppressing your true nature. Looks like he was right.”
I want to see him destroyed.
The thought blazes through me with surprising clarity and force, cutting through my fear. I stand straighter, drawing strength from the declaration I’ve just made.
“You can tell Marcus whatever you want,” I say. “I’m not afraid of him anymore.”
Jessica’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rise in surprise. “Really? That’s not the impression I’m getting from your face right now.” Her gaze drifts past me toward the main house. “This place is quaint. Marcus would find it interesting that you’ve gone so… rural.”
“Time for you to leave,” I say, stepping toward her rather than away. “I have nothing to say to you or to Marcus.”
“Actually, he’ll be thrilled to hear I found you,” she continues, pulling out her phone. “He’s been absolutely obsessed; he even hired private investigators. Did you know that? It’s not personal,” she continues. “But Marcus is offering a generous reward for anyone who finds you, and I really need a new car.”
Fuck this bitch.
“Goodbye, Jessica.”
Before she can respond, a deep voice calls from behind me. “Everything alright over here?”
Rowan approaches casually, his steps measured, but his eyes are sharp. The burnt sugar notes in his scent have taken on a protective edge that makes my inner omega sigh with relief.
“Just catching up with an old colleague,” I say, not taking my eyes off Jessica, whose expression has shifted to one of keen interest as she takes Rowan’s approach.
“Well, hello,” she says, her voice dropping to a silky register I remember well from agency parties. She extends a manicured hand. “Jessica Wilson. Emma and I worked together at Ashcroft Media.”
Rowan takes her hand briefly, his face revealing nothing. “Rowan Home. This is my farm.”
The simple statement conveys unmistakable ownership, not just of the property but of the situation.
“Your farm? How lovely. I was just telling Emma how… unexpected it is to find her in such a rustic setting.”
“I’d say she fits in perfectly here,” Rowan replies, his voice pleasant but firm. His hand rests at the small of my back. “Though I’m afraid you’ve caught us at a busy time.”
Jessica’s eyes narrow at the dismissal, then dart between us, clearly noting Rowan’s protective stance. A calculating smile spreads across her face.
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to intrude. But Emma, we really should catch up properly.” She pulls a business card from her purse and holds it out. “Call me. For old times’ sake.”
I don’t take the card. “Goodbye, Jessica.”
She shrugs, tucking the card back into her purse. “Have it your way. Marcus will be interested to know where you have been all this time.”
