“Mr. Marchetti.” Elena kept her voice even, cool. She didn’t want him put out from the offset, but she couldn’t invite the familiarity he seemed obsessed with.
“Will you continue to refuse to call me by my name,” he asked with his brows pinched above the bridge of his nose.
Elena let out a soft sigh of relief as he sat across from her. He was going to keep this proper after all, no matter his constant use of her name.
“Marchetti is your name, sir.”
“Come on, Elena, I know I was cruel to you when we were children, but we’re hardly kids any longer. Let me be your friend.”
“I barely know you anymore. Even if we had been friends at one point, things would be very different now anyways.” Elena canted her chin, daring him to disagree.
If anything, their relationship would have been far more strained and rigorous had they’d had any sort of friendship at any time. She was an Omega in her prime, ripe and fertile for mating. There was no room for silly friendships with males.
“All right. You win.” He wasn’t pleased to give ground to her and showed it by ripping off the cork of the wine bottle sitting before him. Tempering his movements he held the bottle out to her in offering.
“I trust your palate, sir,” she said, as demure as could be as she attempted to bolster his pride. It was nothing for her toaccept what he considered a good vintage, despite the fact she despised all wines.
Chest expanding, Anthony poured her a small measure of wine into the glass by his own hand. Performed the task with a flourish before he filled his glass. They both sipped, Elena making an appreciative sound as she tried not to gag on the foul smell of rotted grapes clogging her sinuses.
Before the silence between them could become too awkward, Anthony signaled a waiter that didn’t belong to the hotel’s staff. Two people approached bearing large, silver trays.
“I didn’t know what all you might like, so I got a variety,” Anthony said as the waiters served them trays of appetizers. Little delicate pastries to raw oysters in the shell with everything in between.
He’d gone to considerable lengths. Elena’s nerves started to crackle and fizz, and she gulped a healthy dose of wine to settle them. This was only a dinner. Nothing more.
They made idle chit chat about the people they knew, avoiding the obvious topics of disaster. Her family, his brother. Everything else seemed free reign, including her recent trip to see her father’s lawyer.
“You said three days. I’m assuming since you’re here and not at your home, that means you had three days to vacate.”
“Yes, you have it right,” Elena murmured into her glass, taking another healthy sip. Funny how she barely tasted the rotten grapes anymore. Her tongue tingled, as if it’d grown numb, but she tasted the bevy of food served for the next course just fine.
“So you’ll be staying here? Come now, Miss Costanzo, that can’t be safe for a woman in your position.”
“I would have it differently, Mr. Marchetti, but I have few options at my disposal. If I were to find a mate during this time, I’m sure much would be remedied.”
“Is that why you agreed to dine with me,” Anthony askedwith a growling chuckle, sliding his plate away and holding a finger up for the next course.
“You have no interest in me, or even in finding a mate, sir.” Elena slanted her lips to the side, a gentle admonishment as Anthony refilled her glass. How many had she had now?
“Very true. But perhaps I know those that are in the market.”
“Do you really?” Elena choked on her wine, not having meant to be so brazen with her curiosity. Dabbing at her lips with her napkin, she stammered out an apology.
“Calm yourself, little Elena,” Anthony said, pitching his voice low for her ears only despite how Jamie strained to eavesdrop. He reached over the table to clasp Elena’s trembling fingers in a brief squeeze before releasing her. “I understand the predicament that you’re in. There’s an urgency here.”
“There is, but that is no excuse for such behavior. I am sorry.” Elena sighed, twisting her napkin between her clenched fists.
“I might know of a few fellows. I cannot promise you the rank of a first Omega, but a place of comfort wouldn’t be impossible.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, Mr. Marchetti, thank you,” Elena stammered out, and now it was her hands reaching across the table to clutch at his as she stumbled over her thanks. There weren’t words enough. There was a light at the end of this tunnel. He knew of people who would take her in.
“What in the hell do you think you are doing?”
Elena froze as the dark voice slid down her spine, wrenching it into a submissive bow. A trembling heartbeat later she recognized it, just before the scent of ash and evergreens overtook her as he reached out and wrenched her back.