The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Chapter 19

Days later, that kiss, that real kiss, still had her mind reeling, so much so that she couldn't concentrate on the copy of Case Law for Trial Lawyers. She still didn't know what had prompted him to do it. All she'd said was that she'd make sure to be able to continue seeing Michael once their agreement was fulfilled. It had been the truth. She adored the child and looked forward to the opportunity to be a part of his life, maybe only in a limited capacity, but that would be better than nothing. Before she knew it, Damian's mouth had been devouring hers, and it was all she could do to stay standing. How, and why, he was able to exert that kind of an effect on her, she wasn't sure. He shouldn't be able to reduce her to a weak-kneed mess simply by kissing her. And yet, he had done exactly that.

Twice.

What did that mean? Did it mean anything? Men, especially alpha men, didn't give out kisses for no reason, not to an omega. There was always a catch, an expectation for more. However, Damian was unlike any alpha she'd met, and he continued to surprise her on a daily basis. That particular surprise had simply ended when he'd opened the vehicle door for her. Once they'd gotten home, Damian had bidden her goodnight, then gone up to his room. There had been no attempts to pressure her to join him, or to allow him to join her in her room.

The entire episode left her brimming with confusion and unsure of what was to come next. Would Damian want more from her? Her omega was already in love with the concept, but Von's conscious mind was wary. She was no longer using scented beta bathing products, eschewing them for the unscented omega products Damian had provided. The foods she'd been eating, while delicious, lacked the spicing of beta dishes necessary to effectively hide her scent. All she'd have to do is become aroused enough in his presence to produce slick (and it wouldn't take much at this point), and it would be game over. He'd smell her and...and...

She didn't want to think about that. Gods, this wasn't supposed to happen. She'd given up on the idea of having a mate a long time ago. Having a mate was incompatible with her future plans, at least as those plans currently stood.

Growing increasingly restive, she turned on the TV hoping for a distraction. It didn't take long to find one. The perky beta hostesses of Omega's Kitchen were showcasing a recipe for glazed duck with whipped sweet potatoes and roasted vegetables. The finished product made her mouth water. Reproducing that smorgasbord would take all day, and if she was busy cooking, she couldn't waste time overanalyzing a single, stupid kiss, trying to tease out meaning where there likely had been none. She waited all of ten seconds before calling down to the doorman to put in a grocery order. It appeared in the elevator like magic about an hour later.

Her favorite Brandon Orie album blaring over the sound system, Von got to work. Preparing the duck with lemon and rosemary; boiling the sweet potatoes to mash with butter, whipping cream, and more rosemary; and tossing the vegetables in a basic blend of salt, pepper, and oil had her feeling useful and sufficiently occupied. She was making entirely too much food for two people, but, oh well, they'd be able to eat on the leftovers for a while.

She checked the oven. So far, so good. The duck looked just like it had on T.V. The potatoes were finished and sitting in the warming drawer, and the vegetables would go into the oven in about a half an hour. Hours of prep work had her sweaty and in desperate need for a quick shower.

Fighting a ticking clock (well, oven timer), she was back downstairs, showered, with her hair in a tidy bun by the time the vegetables went in and the duck came out to rest. That gave her the opportunity to change out of her bathrobe and into a clean set of clothes.

Standing in her walk-in closet, she reached for a pair of yoga pants, then paused. She'd put together a great meal. Instead of serving in the kitchen, where they ate most of the time, it would make more sense to use that impressive cherrywood dining table gathering dust in the dining room. And, if they were going to eat at the table, she should dress for it: amethyst capri slacks with a lavender print blouse, ballet flats, and a dangly pair of faux pearl earrings.