Page 112 of In Control

Rosie laughs. “I think that is a problem that will be solved today!”

27

Liam

I didn’t thinkit was possible to forget how damn beautiful this woman is, but when she draws back the door and I see her standing there framed in the light of the hallway, she whips the air straight from my lungs.

So goddamn beautiful. Her blue eyes almost silver tonight, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders and her skin so soft looking I want to stroke it.

It takes me a full minute to find my voice.

“Wow, Sophia!” I offer her my hand. I’ve been dreaming about this woman for two very long weeks. We all have. She’s been the topic of our every conversation. We’ve talked tactics and strategies and game plans, promising each other to take this slow like she asked. But fuck, when she stands there looking like that I wonder if I possess the will power. All I want to do is bundle her into the car and drive her straight to our pack house.

She peers down at her outfit. “Is the skirt too short?”

“I’d say,” I growl, leading her down the front steps. “It is the perfect amount of short, sweetheart. But maybe go easy on Esra, he isn’t fully healed yet.”

Her face falls in disappointment.

I chuckle. “I’m sure you can be gentle with him.”

I lead her to the limo we’ve hired for the evening. If she’s joining the pack, we’re going to need to buy a bigger car, something that will fit three alphas, an omega and a beta. Plus other additions in the future. I wonder if she’d be up for that.

Not a topic for tonight. Not when we’re taking it slow.

“You told me we weren’t going anywhere fancy.” She smoothes down her skirt in alarm.

“We’re not. Doesn’t mean we can’t travel in style.”

“Style?” she asks sceptically, eyeing up the bright pink limo.

“It was the only one we could place our hands on last minute. According to Gabe, anyway … Hmmm, you don’t think–”

“You got punked,” she laughed. “Totally.”

She ducks inside and I watch as the others greet her, all their eyes lighting up and their scents darkening. Yep, everyone is feeling the same way about this girl as I am.

“You like the car?” Gabe asks. “It has a mini bar.” He presses a button on the central console and a lid opens followed by a selection of brightly lit-up bottles of spirits. “And there’s karaoke.”

“Karaoke? Fuck, no,” Esra mutters.

“You don’t like it?” Sophia asks him, choosing the seat next to him, eyes swimming over him as if she’s deducing how well recovered he is.

“Do you?”

“I never tried it.”

I shake my head at her. “Call yourself a fucking student.”

“A posh student,” Esra says. “Too much prancing around, and not enough enjoying herself.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, I met you at the ballet, Soph. No PhD student has any right being at a ballet where the seats cost more than £100. You should be hanging out in dive bars and stinky nightclubs.”

“There is nothing wrong with the ballet.” Gabe points a finger at Esra as he pours champagne into flutes.

“Nothing wrong with the ballet. I’m making a point. What this girl needs is the opposite of a glow-up or whatever you young folk call it these days. We need to take her to all the shittiest places this city has to offer.”