Owned By The Possessive Alpha, Bounded To My Mate novel Chapter 37

Chapter 37

DENISE

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“I said nothing of the sort.”

“You implied it.”

“I implied you should attend and that nobody would be expecting you.” He paused. “What you do with the situation is your own

determination.”

I looked at the invitation one more time.

“As long as they don’t know I’m your future Luna,” I said. “Not tonight. Someone important but unspecified.”

“Agreed.”

“And you won’t be far.”

“Jayce will have eyes on you. And-” He picked up his phone and slid it across the table. His contact was open. “I’ll be a message away.”

I picked up his phone and looked at it and then looked at him.

“Done,” I said.

The dress was called the Aura Phoenix.

I knew it by name because everyone in any proximity to luxury fashion knew it by name-it was one of those pieces that existed in the cultural conversation before it existed in your actual life. A limited production from a designer who made fewer than thirty garments a year, it had been on three waiting lists simultaneously for the past eight months, sought specifically by the kind of people who gave significant gifts to the people they wanted to impress.

Kieran had put it in the guest room wardrobe with no accompanying note.

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at what it did.

The color was deep, extraordinary-not quite burgundy, not quite the color of garnet, something in between that moved differently in different light, catching amber and depth simultaneously. The cut was architectural in the way of things made by people who understood that structure and softness were not opposites. It fit with the precision of something measured for a specific body rather than adjusted to approximate one.

Fifteen thousand dollars. I knew this because I had looked it up six months ago when I’d seen it on someone at a function and spent the rest of the evening thinking about it with the wistful focus of a woman who had access to money that wasn’t hers and therefore couldn’t spend it on the things she’d have chosen.

I put it on and it was exactly what I’d thought it would be.

My hair was up-not severely, the style that left a few things loose, the one that said composed rather than formal. Makeup that my

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Chapter 37

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hands had managed despite the stitches, which had required some adaptation. The shoes Kieran’s assistant had sourced were heeled enough to add presence and tow enough to be survivable given that my ribs were still holding opinions.

I looked at myself for a long moment.

Then I picked up my bag and went downstairs.

Jayce Talis was not what I’d expected from the brief glimpses of him in Kieran’s back seat.

In the light of the lobby, he was tall and broadly built with the easy confidence of someone who’d been in enough rooms to have stopped caring about making an entrance. He had warm brown skin and sharp eyes and the expression of a man who found the world genuinely entertaining, which was its own kind of intelligence. He looked at me when I came down and something in his expression shifted from polite attention to something more specific.

“Kieran described you accurately,” he said. “Which he rarely does.”

“What did he say?”

“That you were the most self-possessed person he’d met in recent memory and that I should not attempt to be charming at you because you would see through it.” He extended his arm. “Jayce Talis. I’ll be your escort and designated excuse to leave any conversation you want to leave.”

looked at his arm and then at his face and decided I liked him.

‘Denise,” I said. “Let’s go.”

The Grand Aldric was exactly what it was named to be.

We arrived at eight-fifteen, which was calculated-not late enough to be a statement, not early enough to be unremarkable. The entrance hall was already populated with the particular density of a significant social event in its first hour, the air carrying the layered fragrances of expensive things and the ambient sound of a hundred conversations running parallel.

The card I carried was different from the standard invitation. Kieran had not specified exactly what tier it represented, but the way the door staff looked at it and then at me-the slight straightening, the murmured word to a colleague, the immediate and personal escort rather than the general direction given to standard guests-communicated its weight without requiring explanation.

Royal privilege was perhaps an overstatement.

Perhaps not.

Jayce leaned close as we were led through the main hall. “We’re going to the upper salon first. His parents are at the private reception area,”

I nodded.

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