Page 40 of The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate
Sienna
The bark of the oak digs into my shoulder blades through my blouse. I know, without having to lift my head, that Lucas is standing at his office window, watching me.
I can feel his gaze on me; I always do when I sit here. I turn a page of the territorial assessment, pretend to read it, and let a slow smile touch the corner of my mouth.
Look all you want, Alpha Steele.
My wolf stretches, pleased. It’s been a few days since I caught Lucas sleeping under this tree. It’s kind of cute how hard he pretends not to be interested.
A shadow falls across the document in my lap. I glance up. One of the estate house staff members is standing before me, holding a small tray. Coffee, cream, sugar cubes, a little plate of meat skewers still warm enough to send up steam.
“Miss Carter,” she says shyly, “I was asked to bring this down.”
“Oh.” I accept the tray. “Who sent it?”
Her ears turn red. “Uh…I don’t think I can…”
She glances in the direction of Lucas’s window, and I suppress my smile.
“It’s okay. Thank you.”
She nods and retreats across the lawn.
I arrange the tray on the grass beside me, pick up a skewer, and take a bite. The meat is perfect: smoky and tender. The man who claims not to want me is going to a truly embarrassing amount of trouble to make sure I eat. I hum to myself, enjoying the small treat.
I’ve been skipping breakfast almost since I arrived here because dragging myself out of bed is so hard in the mornings. But for the past couple of days, if I miss any meal, it is delivered to my office. It tugs at my heartstrings, being looked after like this, even if the man doing it is pretending he’s not.
My smile fades. I can’t understand Lucas. Why not just accept me? It’s obvious he wants to. If there is some issue, why not talk to me about it? I think about the tie the other day—soft, spring green—and the slow, ridiculous blush that climbed up his neck when I reached out and held it between my fingers. I think about the way his hand closed around my wrist when I mentioned my assistants.
Work in progress, I tell my wolf.
She yawns and settles.
My phone buzzes. Violet’s name on the screen, a small, green “accept” button, and the usual lift in my chest. I swipe and angle the camera upward.
“Hi,” I say, smiling.
“Hi, yourself.” Violet’s face fills the screen, backlit by a window I recognize as the one in her and Darius’s breakfast room. “You look entirely too comfortable for a woman in enemy territory.”
“It is not enemy territory.” I get to my feet. “Give me a minute. Too many ears everywhere.”
I walk over to the tree line in the distance, where the forest begins.
“Hmm.” She narrows her eyes. “Where are you?”
“Outside. Working.”
“Working outside, in the sunshine, surrounded by trees, at Silvercrest. You sound like a woman on a retreat.”
I laugh. “He’s feeding me skewers from his window now.”
Violet’s eyebrows climb up her forehead. “He’s what?”
“Lucas sends me food whenever he sees me sitting out here. He thinks he’s being subtle. I am a very well-fed woman.”
“I see.” Violet leans back. “How is the stay, really?”
“Fine.”
