Vanessa was a natural redhead. Her hair was long which she always tamed in a ponytail or simple braid. She usually wore unfashionable thick glasses as if she deliberately wanted to repel attention from the opposite sex. But not today. He’d seen her without her glasses before, when she broke her frames and had to wear contacts. She had big, brown eyes with sinfully lush lashes. It complemented her pale, alabaster skin. Her nose was pert and she had cupid bow luscious lips. Lips that begged to be kissed.
“What happened to your glasses?” he asked.
“I tripped and broke them yesterday. So I’m wearing contacts.”
“You tripped? Where?”
“When I was walking home. Some neighbor’s dog chased me because I forgot I had a ham sandwich in my pocket. It was my lunch.”
He had a hard time controlling his expression. Never a dull moment with Vanessa.
“Quinn,” she began, “the people at the office knew about the video.”
“And?”
“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned?”
“No.”
He glanced at her again. She looked at him as if he were crazy. “I’m surprised you’re acting like nothing happened. Everybody in the office was hounding me nonstop. Especially your fangirls. Jesus Christ. They drive me nuts. I think I’m the most hated gal in the universe, right now. They asked me what I said to make you kiss me like that. I told them my memory was fuzzy. I didn’t remember much. What did I say to you?”
A pang of disappointment jabbed his heart. “You truly don’t remember?” He knew it was mainly the alcohol talking when she brazenly waltzed up to him at the New Year’s Eve party and planted a playful kiss on his lips. But then she whispered seven words that made his resolve crumble–the words he’d desperately wanted to hear all along: Quinn, I want to be your mate.
To a human, it might sound trivial, but for a shifter like him, it was everything. Humans got married and divorced all the time. Mates were forever--the mantra his mother told him over and over since childhood.
His mother had been a widow for ten years since his father succumbed to his illness. But not a day went by that his mother had forgotten about him. She still set plates for dad at the dinner table. She chose the clothes he was going to wear in the morning, even though at the end of the day, they all went straight back into the closet. The memory of dad lived in her heart.
Vanessa wrinkled her nose, thinking hard. “No, I don’t remember.”
“I’m not going to tell you then,” he decided.
“Why not?”
“You need to find that out yourself.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“I don’t get it. Did I ask you to kiss me?”
He only smirked.
“Did I blackmail you?”
“You don’t have dirt on me.”
“Then what it is? The suspense is killing me.”
“Patience is a virtue, Vanessa.”
She gave up. “Right. Quinn Alexander, man of mystery.”
He snorted. The traffic was bad but they’d still get to the airport on time. From JFK, they would fly straight to Denver. His family had a vacation home in Aspen. Since his father passed away, his family always had a get-together after the New Year when everybody wasn’t constrained by their schedules. His mother was born and bred a socialite; she was always busy with her galas and charity dinners.
His brother Trent was an intelligence office in the Air Force so he was rarely home. His youngest brother, John, was a music producer. He split between his residences in New York and LA. The few weeks after the holiday were the only time the family could find time together. That was why his mother had insisted she meet Vanessa this weekend.
Quinn was an introvert when it came to his personal life. So when the video of him kissing a girl surfaced, his mom pressed him to introduce her.
Vanessa cleared her throat. As if she was channeling his thoughts, she asked, “What did you say to your mom about me?”
“Hmm? I told her you’re my girlfriend.”
“Did she asked how long had we been dating? Where did we meet? Don’t you think we should come up with a story first? You know, coordinating our lies?”
“She knows you work for me. And you are one of our star employees.”
“You don’t seem very concerned about this. Don’t blame me if your mother finds out about our charade.”
“My mom’s just happy I’m bringing home my girlfriend.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve never brought one home before.”
She gave him a weird kind of look. “Why?” she asked. “A man like you must have a lot of girlfriends.”