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.

“You liked my designs, then?" Lucas grinned.

I looked down at the floor, scuffing my foot at an invisible speck of dust. “Yeah… I guess I did."

Lucas's fingers brushed my temple and I glanced up, startled, as he smoothed my hair behind my ear.

“That is high praise indeed," he murmured.

“Why is that high praise?" I asked, confused.

“Because it came from you," Lucas said softly. Then he cleared his throat. “You know, a gifted designer and

prospective engineer."

“Oh." I felt myself blushing again. “Thanks."

“You deserve it." Lucas looked around and swept his arm expansively around the room. “Have you entered any

competitions? These are all great. Even the ones that have nothing to do with the library." He winked.

I giggled, honest to Goddess giggled. I could have kicked myself.

“Er… no. Not yet. We have a kind of art gallery competition type thing as a senior project where our designs will be

hanging up in the… well, the new High Council building, actually. They will be evaluated, rated, and receive awards

based on how good they are."

“I know you'll do well," Lucas said, seemingly oblivious to my girlish giggles. “Does your rating affect your grade?"

I shrugged. “Yes and no. If you really bomb, then you're not going to graduate for sure. But as long as you do

passably well… I'm just worried about all the senior engineers who are going to be there, choosing new members

for their teams. I want to impress them."

“You've already impressed me," Lucas replied, and I could tell he was sincere.

“Maybe you'll want me on your team," I joked.

Lucas tilted his head, considering. “Let's see how the library project goes. Don't slap me again, and maybe we'll

see."

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. I couldn't help but feel that there was something between us,

something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Fighting against sudden breathlessness, I opened my mouth to respond. “It won't happen again," I promised.

His eyes trailed from my eyes down my face and landed on my mouth.

“Are you sure?" he pressed.

“Yes," I said firmly.

“This project… it's too important." There was another change in the atmosphere–he was serious, leaving no room

for playfulness this time. Of course, he was right.

“I understand," I assured him.

“Do you?" he asked.

It was also said in all seriousness.

“I am sorry for slapping you, especially when you were only trying to help me," I said in all sincerity.

He grinned and massaged his cheek.

“I've been through worse," he said, surprising me. I was curious what he meant by that but he quickly continued,

changing the subject. “Alright. Be sure you're up early to catch the first train. Work starts at eight-thirty. Don't be

late."

“Yes, sir," I said, politely ushering him to the door.

Lucas turned to me before leaving. “And no slapping or insulting. I mean it."

“I get it," I huffed, mad at him all over again… as if I didn't understand the Realm Language. “I won't hit or insult

you."

“Good," Lucas said. “Well, I consider this to have been a very productive meeting, Miss Wentley. I look forward to

seeing you tomorrow."

He turned and left.

It took everything in me not to slam the door behind him.