Page 16 of Collared Mate

“It’s good to see you looking so well,” Rick says, his arm loosely around her waist with a sort of barely there gesture that lays no claim. If she had any sense she would be looking for someone else at this party. Someone who would make her his because the idea of being without her would be too painful to bear.

My plan is to do a few laps of this place, talk to precisely enough people to be memorable as here, maybe do something ever so slightly scandalous that cements the memories, and then get out.

“Wait, before you run off, there’s someone I want to introduce you to,” Rick says.

I pluck a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and drink most of it in one go, elegantly, of course. A private, expensive education teaches young ladies how to chug like frat boys while looking like angels.

Rick turns and beckons to someone, who comes through the throng with the motion of an icebreaker. I find myself looking at a very large, very tall man with an ample graying beard, thick bushy brows, and graying hair. I feel a pang of something like fear strike my belly. This is not a man who I have any business being near. He must be at least thirty years older than me.

“I want you to meet Raymond Farthingpenny,” Rick says. “Why don’t you take him to the Blue study and have a drink with him, get to know him a little.”

“Certainly, perhaps later,” I smile. “I have to freshen myself.”

“You seem very fragrant to me,” Ray says. His voice sounds like British granite. Or whatever rocks they have over there. Something gray and bland, probably. I’m being internally snarky because this is such a transparently gross move on both their parts. The man would be perfect for an older woman, but the fact that he is even looking at me, twenty-one years old, gives me the complete ick.

“I need to speak to my brother about something private for a moment,” I say sweetly, smiling so broadly anybody who knows me would be aware that shit of a very dangerous sort is about to go down.

We leave Sass and Mr. Farthingpenny to make conversation, while I more or less drag my brother off to one of the many alcoves of the ballroom designed for private little tête-à-têtes, or in this case, cussing out my dick brother. This one is recessed and offers quite a bit of privacy, with two doors leading out to one of our private gardens. We stay in the ballroom, keeping up appearances as we fight.

“Seriously, Rick? What the fuck?”

“You need someone who can keep you in line,” he growls.

“He’s old enough to be our dad,” I hiss. “I knew you were going to try some stupid setup, but even for you this is desperate.”

“You need someone who can handle you,” Rick repeats himself with different words.

“Handle me where? With what? A fucking Zimmer frame?”

“He’s not that old.”

“Yes. He is.”

“He has a castle, Fiona. You always wanted to be a princess.”

“When I was five!” I exclaim as quietly as it is possible to exclaim while keeping a fixed smile on my face so the people milling about nearby pretending not to watch don’t get the full picture of what is happening. “You need to stop thinking about me as someone who needs to be handled and start thinking about…”

“You need to understand that you are my sister, and I am the alpha of this pack,” Rick says, trying his best to pull rank. I’m sure anyone else would crumble for him, but I’ve known him my entire life and I know that this is all bluster.

“Don’t pull that ‘I am the alpha’ shit on me,” I say. “That’s never impressed me, and you know it.”

“It’s not about being impressed. It’s about respecting my role, and your place.”

Oh, he sounds like such a pompous jerk. I am about to tell him so, when I spot something in the crowd. A light, much more genuine smile appears on my lips. “Maybe this isn’t such a big deal after all,” I say.

“Why not?”

Rick follows my eye line. Through the crowd, the svelte form of Sass can be seen pressed up against Ray as the pair of them sway to the music.

Rick grits his teeth.

“Hey, she probably wants someone to handle her as well,” I say. “Wait, don’t…”

Rick is off through the crowd. I watch, grinning as he approaches the couple and tries to cut in without creating a scene. Good luck to him with that. Everybody in this place is constantly watching everything he does.

I don’t get to see what happens, though, and that is because as Rick taps Ray on the shoulder, my hand is grabbed from behind and I am pulled out the French double doors that lead out into a private garden while everyone else is distracted.

“Hello, stranger.”