Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 4 : Serious Conversations

*Sasha*

“We were not discussing your ass," I said flatly, scowling at this man I seemed cursed to run into over and over again. I must have done something terrible in a past life… like murder.

“It was either that, or you were calling your supervisor an ass, and I'd rather go with option one, wouldn't you?" Lucas said, arching an eyebrow.

I felt my cheeks get hot. “It… I...."

“Or maybe I should pretend I didn't hear anything at all?" Lucas suggested with a casual shrug.

I grabbed the peace offering with both hands. “Option three, please."

“I thought you might lean that way," Lucas replied.

I fiddled around my desk, organizing things that were already meticulously organized while Lucas cast his eyes on me, then at the sketches that peppered the walls between my bed and the window, taking up precisely half the room.

“You're very… tidy," Lucas said after a while.

I stopped fiddling around with a folio. “Tidy?"

I looked at the militantly spaced renderings of what I'd thought the new library should look like, and wanted to scream. He saw my sketches and the best he could say about them was that they were 'tidy'?

It also irked me that I craved his approval at all… or accolades, or whatever I'd been hoping for from him.

“Did you come here for a reason?" I asked, more sharply than I'd intended.

Lucas gave me the side-eye. “Yes, actually. I was rather hoping you could drop the attitude so we can work together."

“Attitude?!" I snapped. Where did he get off?

“Sasha, if you can't be around me without snarking all the time, we can't work together. I'm a site manager, not a babysitter," Lucas said sternly.

“Babysitter?!" I scoffed.

“Yes," Lucas replied, still stern. “I can't have you berating me and slapping me in front of the men. Hell, I'd rather you not do it anytime, but I figure at the work site was a good start."

“Maybe if you weren't such an insufferable bastard...." I began.

Lucas sighed and turned toward the door. “I knew this was going to be a lesson in futility. I'll contact your advisor to have you reassigned—“

Crap. I shot to my feet and grabbed his arm. “No, Lucas, wait."

Heat crackled between us from where we touched. It burned in Lucas's eyes when he looked at me. “And we'll have none of that, either."

“None of what?" I asked.

“You know what," Lucas said quietly.

I looked down at his arm and swallowed, then deliberately let him go. “Lucas, this library project is my dream assignment. Please don't throw me off it. I'll… I'll be professional."

He exhaled slowly.

“I can't afford to have anything go wrong on this project," Lucas grunted, and I could feel a heaviness in his words. “If you stay on the project, it is important that we are able to be in the same room and work together without you trying to tear my head off. You need to be respectful."

I could feel anger boiling in my gut. “What about you?"

“I'm always professional...."

I opened my mouth to reply, but he gently placed a hand over my mouth.

“We've gotten off on the wrong foot, but if we can fix this." He gestured between us and he lowered his hand from my mouth. “Then I think we can work together."

I should be grateful. I knew it. But more than gratitude, I felt bitterness at having to be grateful to him in the first place.

Lucas frowned at me. “The expression on your face is not reassuring at all."

“I said I'll be good, and professional. What more do you want?" I asked, exasperated.

“I haven't seen you demonstrate it yet," Lucas said.

I scowled at him, but couldn't say he was wrong. There was just something about this man that rubbed me the wrong way. And then there was what he'd done when we were kids…

“I'm trying," I replied between my teeth.

“You're not succeeding," Lucas informed me.

I sighed and tugged his wrist so he dropped down to have a seat on my bed while I occupied my desk chair. “Okay, what needs to change?"

“Better," Lucas said. “First of all, it might help build some professional distance if you call me 'Mr. Black.'"

“Mr. Black." I tried not to sound dubious when I said it.

“Not a heartening tone of voice, but I'll take it as a start," Lucas chuckled.

I blushed. “Well, then, I suppose you'll call me Miss Wentley?"

“If that's what you want," Lucas agreed.

“That's what I want. And I want somewhere to work, not just a folding table under a tarp somewhere," I insisted, hoping I wasn't pushing my luck.

Lucas laughed. “Alright. I'll make a little spot for you in the trailer."

Wow, that was easy.

“Alright," Lucas said with a smile that did things to my stomach I'd rather not think about. “Any other demands?"

“I want to do more than just get coffee. I'd like to really be involved," I responded, nervously pushing my hair back behind my ear.

“Yeah, I noticed." Lucas gestured around at all my renderings.

“I just wanted to be prepared," I mumbled self-consciously.

As he looked over my sketches, I couldn't help but notice how much space his large frame took up in my tiny room. I could feel his body heat radiating and I struggled to maintain my composure.

I tried my best to focus on the drawings and not the man looking at them, but my eyes couldn't stop wandering over his features, and my mind kept pointing out the fact that this incredibly handsome man was in my room, looking at my work. It was overwhelming. I couldn't believe it.

Finally, he finished his critique and turned to me. "You know, you're quite talented," he said, his eyes fixed on mine.

I couldn't help but blush at the compliment, and I looked away from him.

I could feel the weight of his gaze on me as if he was trying to read my thoughts. He seemed to study me for a moment longer before turning away.

“I wouldn't want anything to jeopardize our working relationship," he said. His tone was low and mellow, but I knew what he meant. If I couldn't control my temper, I would be off the project faster than I could blink.

“I understand," I said, trying to keep any stinging saltiness out of my voice. I looked at him, meeting his eyes once more.

Lucas smiled, and my heart skipped a beat as his smile stole my breath.

“I am very impressed with your work. These drafts are beautiful. The design's already been settled on, but if you don't mind, I'd like to take a few of these in case we need to make changes to the plans along the way."

I looked up at Lucas. “Really?"

“Really," Lucas said.

“T-take anything you want!" I blurted, standing to take them down myself.

Lucas stood at the same time and we ended up bumping into each other. He took a sharp breath.

“Oh, Miss Wentley, I can't take 'everything' I want," he whispered, his breath ruffling the hair on top of my head.

I swallowed. “D-designs...."

“Right. Those I will take." Lucas brushed past me and began removing a good number of drawings from my wall—more than I'd expected him to.

He did it with such care that for some reason I felt like crying. “Thank you, Mr. Black. I'm glad you like them."

“I do, really and sincerely. These are quite good. I can see why you were recommended for the library project, and have the queen's approval," Lucas said, opening his briefcase and laying the renderings carefully on top of each other.

“It was my first choice," I blurted.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, snapping his briefcase shut. “Oh? Nothing with Stone Hamline?"

“Oh, they never tell us until we get the posting who's in charge," I said.

“I see. What drew you to the library over, say, the new High Council building?" Lucas asked, leaning his hip against my desk.

“The designs for the High Council building are so stuffy," I complained. Then my hand flew to my mouth. “Those are Engineer Stone Hamline's designs, aren't they...."

Lucas's lips quirked. “They sure are."

I groaned. “Great. Slap one Royal Engineer, insult another. At this rate, I'll be designing the capital's sewer system."

Lucas let out a bark of laughter. “Actually, there are specialized engineers for underground structures like that, but I catch your drift. He won't hear from me that you don't like his designs." He leaned closer to me.

The air between us felt suddenly hot… burning hot.