Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
It didn’t take long after the first dance for the true politics of the Wolf Ball to kick in.
Mallory had barely picked up her glass of wine for a quick sip when the first werewolf alpha appeared, head bowed in obvious supplication.
‘Mr MacTire. You cut a fine figure in that kilt. Absolutely tremendous. Is that a family tartan?’
‘It was specially commissioned for the MacTires several decades ago.’ Alexander rose to shake hands.
‘Well, I’m very envious.’ Without missing a beat, the alpha started work. ‘Now, tell me, have you had a chance to read my proposal concerning the full-moon bylaws?’
‘Make an appointment with Samantha next week and we can discuss it,’ Alexander replied.
‘But…’
‘Bryan,’ he said, clapping the man on the back, ‘this is a party. Let’s enjoy it.’
The werewolf slunk away disappointed, but it wasn’t long before he was replaced by another, then another and another. There was a steady stream of werewolves, each keen to press hands with Alexander MacTire and get into his good books.
Mallory entertained herself by considering how differently she would manage each situation if they were her clients. None of them managed to engage Alexander in conversation for more than a minute and none held his attention.
‘I’ve never seen this before,’ Isadora commented, leaning across the table to Mallory while Alexander greeted wolf after wolf.
‘Isn’t Alexander usually this popular?’ Mallory asked, surprised.
‘Oh, he definitely is, but I’ve never seen him blow off so many werewolves in such a short space of time. He usually spends the whole ball wheeling and dealing.’ She waved a hand at some of the tables nearby where heads were bowed deep in conversation. ‘Most alphas do.’
Mallory sat up straighter. Isadora had given away far more information than she realised. ‘You’ve followed him over the years, then? Alexander? You … pay attention to him and how he acts?’
Isadora’s eyes widened a fraction. ‘Oh.’ She put an embarrassed hand over her mouth. ‘I used to, but please don’t think I have designs on him now. I can see he’s smitten with you.’
Mallory tripped over her words in her haste to respond. ‘No, no, no. That’s not – I mean, he’s not – er – we’re not together. It’s a business thing. Kind of. Alexander is single. But he’s looking for a romantic partner,’ she added.
‘I did hear that,’ Isadora admitted. She gave Mallory a sidelong look. ‘You and he really do seem as if…’
‘We’re not,’ she replied firmly.
‘Oh. Okay.’ Isadora smiled ruefully. ‘In answer to your original question then, yeah, I’ll admit I’ve spent quite a lot of time watching what he does.
We dated briefly ten years ago but it didn’t work out, not for want of wishing otherwise on my part.
For several years afterwards I wondered if he was the one who got away and if I should have tried harder to make things work. ’
Mallory held her breath. ‘And now?’
Isadora laughed. ‘Now I realise I was young and foolish and we were never meant to be.’
Ignoring the stab in her heart, Mallory dragged out the next words. ‘Are you sure about that? You seem to have a good relationship. There was definitely banter between you, and you seem to get on.’
But Isadora was already shaking her head. ‘No, it’s water under the bridge. I don’t think he’s the one for me. Or vice-versa.’ She eyed Mallory speculatively.
‘Ask him to dance,’ Mallory said. ‘Talk to him. You might surprise yourself.’ Then, because pressing the point would seem like overkill, she stood up. ‘Where are the restrooms?’
When Isadora pointed them out, she murmured her thanks and beat a hasty retreat.
The toilets were as opulent as the rest of the Grand Hotel but Mallory paid them little attention. ‘Get with the programme,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Remember why you’re here.’
She splashed cold water on her face, rubbed her eyes then braced her hands against the cool marble basin and stared into the mirror – before wincing. Oh. That had been stupid.
The bruises on her arms might be concealed by magical make-up but the cosmetics on her face were as unmagical as any product you’d find anywhere in the world and they didn’t react well to either water or smearing.
In the space of a few seconds Mallory had gone from looking like a sultry temptress with smoky eyes and a perfect lipsticked pout to an angry punk desperate to fight the establishment.
Hey-ho. It had been good while it lasted.
As she dampened some tissues and started to wipe away the mess, figuring that by this point her face was beyond repair, there was a flushing sound from one of the cubicles behind her. A moment later, Samantha appeared. ‘Mallory?’ She looked surprised. ‘Are you alright?’
‘All good. Just a minor make-up disaster.’
Samantha, who looked as immaculate and intimidating as ever, clucked in sympathy. ‘I have some spare powder and mascara, and I’m fairly certain Hannah has lipstick, eyeshadow and contouring powder. I’m not even sure what contouring powder is but I bet she’s got some. I can go and borrow it.’
Mallory shook her head. ‘No, it’s easier to go bare faced. I’ll only end up making a mess of myself again.’ She managed a grin. ‘I can’t be trusted not to.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’ Mallory continued wiping away the smears. ‘Are you having a good evening?’
‘It’s fantastic!’ Samantha sounded genuinely enthusiastic. ‘I had a good meal, I’m enjoying the wine and so far I’ve taken out three werewolves from other packs who decided that they wanted to pick a fight.’
Mallory stopped in mid-wipe and turned to her. ‘Seriously?’
‘No.’ Samantha grinned and Mallory had the sudden sense that she was being very serious indeed. ‘How’s your night going?’
Mallory breathed in deeply. ‘Make-up mishaps aside, so far so good.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Samantha gave her a long look.
‘What is it?’
Myriad expressions crossed the wolf’s face. It was obvious there was something burning inside her that she wanted to say but for some reason she didn’t feel she could. After several long seconds, she grimaced. ‘You’re a people person, Mallory.’
‘Yeah,’ Mallory said, unsure where Samantha was going with this.
‘You seem to have excellent insights into people and their motivations. You understand emotions and secret desires.’
‘I’m not infallible,’ Mallory said slowly.
‘I’m aware of that. And you’re particularly … fallible when it comes to yourself.’
Mallory stilled. ‘What do you mean?’
Samantha appeared to be searching for the right words. ‘You can decipher thoughts and feelings and understand people – but not yourself.’ She held up her hands. ‘I’m not criticising. Please don’t think that. I wish I was more like you.’ She sighed. ‘But if I could offer some unsolicited advice…’
Twitching warily, Mallory said, ‘Go on.’
‘Maybe you should apply some of those skills to someone a bit closer to home,’ Samantha said gently. ‘That’s all.’
Mallory stared at her. So it was obvious then: everyone knew that she had a massive, painful and wholly inappropriate crush on Alexander. Her cheeks flushed. ‘Uh-huh.’
Samantha nodded, apparently relieved to have said what was on her mind. ‘I’ll see you out there?’
‘Sure,’ Mallory answered brightly.
‘Great!’
As soon as Samantha had gone, her shoulders slumped.
She’d likely never get any werewolf clients ever again after this, and deservedly so.
Then she wondered if Alexander had asked Samantha to talk to her.
Maybe he wanted to make it clear that he would never think of her as anything other than a slightly odd, wholly unmagical, temporary employee. Fuck.
She splashed more water on her face and straightened up. ‘Man or mouse?’ she asked herself. ‘You’ve still got a damned job to do, Mallory. Get out there and fucking do it properly.’
She lifted her chin and returned to the ballroom as if nothing were wrong with the world whatsoever.
Only Sean Jones and Colin Brady remained at the table, deep in conversation.
Mallory paused, her hand on her chair, and glanced around; it didn’t take long to spot Alexander and Isadora on the dance floor.
Good. Fantastic. Absolutely wonderful. Everything would work out.
She watched them, Alexander’s arm around Isadora’s waist, her head back as she laughed. They were enjoying themselves.
‘Perfect,’ she whispered, then reached for her glass of wine and downed it in one without tasting it.
‘Feeling thirsty, Miss Nash?’
She looked up and her eyes met those of Liam Ferguson’s. ‘Parched.’
‘I don’t blame you. The Wolf Ball is hard work, especially on the uninitiated. Perhaps I can ease the pressure and ask you to dance?’
Mallory’s immediate instinct was to decline: she wasn’t here to dance or party, and she ought to focus her attention on Alexander.
But standing here and staring at her client dancing with another woman while her own body screamed with jealousy wasn’t very healthy.
What the hell. Liam was a sweet guy and dancing with someone might be the distraction she needed to drag her libido back into line. ‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘Okay.’
Liam wasn’t quite as accomplished a dancer as Alexander and she stepped on his foot almost as soon as they started. ‘Shit. Sorry.’
‘My toes can take the bruising. It’s fine.’ He twirled her around.
‘How did things go the other night on Hirsel Street?’ she asked.
He grinned cheekily. ‘Fabulous. It was a very, very good night.’
‘Good for you.’
‘I might even meet her next week for a second round.’
‘You say that as if it’s a rare occurrence, Liam.’
‘I’m a long way off settling down,’ he told her. ‘Unlike your date over there.’
Mallory swallowed. ‘He’s not my date.’
The werewolf raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t say anything.
The bouncing beat faded away to be replaced by a slow number. ‘And this is for all you lovers out there,’ the singer crooned into his microphone.
‘That’s what I want right now.’ Liam pulled her in closer.
For a horrifying moment, despite his delight in telling her about his Hirsel Road antics, she thought he’d discovered she was matchmaking for Alexander and was asking her to matchmake for him. ‘A lover?’ she asked, unable to keep the dismay out of her voice.
‘What? No!’ He laughed. ‘I can find any number of lovers, thank you very much. What I mean is I want to be like that singer – I want to play music and be in a band, to hold the attention of a ballroom full of people and get them dancing.’
Relaxing, Mallory looked at him with genuine interest. ‘Are you in a band?’
‘I mess around with a few friends from time to time and I think I’ve got a good voice.’ He pulled a face. ‘But I’m a beta werewolf. I’m supposed to be responsible, not to run away to pursue my dreams. Especially silly dreams.’
With a thud of empathy, Mallory recognised the desperate hope in his expression. ‘Liam, it’s not silly at all. You should keep playing, especially if it makes you happy.’
His face was transformed by a wide smile. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘And what makes you happy?’ he asked.
Alexander. Alexander MacTire makes me happy. She sucked in a breath. Bloody hell. ‘Coffee,’ she said. ‘Wine.’ She paused. ‘And honey.’
‘Honey?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Too sweet for me.’ He dipped his head and lowered his voice. ‘I prefer spice – the hotter, the better.’
‘I’m not surprised by that in the slightest!’ Mallory laughed.
There was a sudden loud cough beside them. ‘Allow me to cut in,’ Alexander said, and Liam moved back before Mallory could say or do anything. Alexander stepped into his place.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she spluttered.
‘Dancing.’
‘But…’
‘I was polite to Ferguson,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t even growl – and that’s after he pawed at you.’
‘He didn’t paw at me!’
‘He put his arms around you.’
‘We were dancing! Just as you should still be dancing with Isadora! What happened?’
‘Nothing, except that I don’t want to dance with her any more. Especially not to this song.’
‘Alex, you need to give it more time. I understand how you feel but…’
‘No, you don't understand how I feel at all.
But after watching you and Liam fucking Ferguson, I've decided it's time you learned.’ His eyes were dark and intense, his voice low and rough. ‘I’ve had enough of pretending – I should have done this a long time ago. I want to dance with you, Mallory. Only you.’
‘P-pardon?’
‘You heard.’ He was looking at her as if she were the only person in the room and all she could do was stare back at him.
He reached for her, slid his hands to her hips and gently tugged her body against his.
‘If you don’t want this, Mallory,’ he murmured, so close that it felt as if each word was scalding her skin, ‘say the word and I’ll walk away.
Otherwise, let’s stop talking and dance. ’
She didn’t speak; she wasn’t sure that she could. Her throat was tight, her mouth was painfully dry and her heart rate had ratcheted up alarmingly. Everything inside her was spinning in exhilarated confusion.
Then something inside her gave way. Hands trembling, she reached for him and turned her head to rest it against his chest, and they stayed like that until the very last beat faded away.
Alexander pulled back an inch then dropped his forehead onto hers, his nose and lips a whisper from her own. ‘Will you come outside with me for some fresh air?’
When she nodded mutely he took her hand, tugged gently and they walked out of the ballroom.