Author: Alyse Zaftig
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/32470_142
Smiling at her sudden excitement, he pushed onto his feet, draped the blanket over his shoulder toga-style, and padded after her. He had a pretty good idea of what she’d found and, upon spying her crouched beside the open crate, holding both pears in one hand, and tucking her fair hair behind her ears with the other, he confirmed his suspicion.
“My family used to do some dealing in railroad supplying. Not the rough things like tracks and such, but the upholstered seats, the tables in the dining cars, the dishes…”
She held up one gilt-trimmed plate and scoffed. “That is incredibly gorgeous.”
“Mmm.” He glanced around the niche and did a quick estimate of how many must have been left. His grandfather had sold some at auction, and many other things from the basement as well, but he’d died before he could clean up the way he wanted to. He’d wanted to make sure the items in the building went to people who would know how to treat them. “I think of that particular pattern, there are twenty dozen left.”
She whistled low. “You could make some high-end caterer very happy.”
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He grimaced. “Perhaps. I haven’t decided yet on what to do with all of this. My grandfather’s inventory sheets are incomplete. I would need to know everything that’s here before I make any decisions.”
“Wise.” Sighing, she set the plate gingerly back into the crate. “I guess that’s the same way I’ve dealt with my father’s property. I didn’t know what I was willing to let go of until I understood the scope of what all was there.” She accepted his hand for help standing. “And I’m sure you know best to maximize your profit on these things.”
“I’m not entirely concerned with profit.”
“No?” She slanted a brow and took a large bite of a pear.
Its juice dribbled down her chin. She lifted a hand, ostensibly to wipe the liquid away, but he got there first. He licked the juice away, and sighed against her parted lips.
“Thank you.” Her lips curved. “I think.”
“You drive me to distraction,” he whispered. He took a step back from her because she could very easily unpin his limited self-control, and he was afraid to shift again and not be able to shift back. He didn’t want to lose time on four legs. He wanted to be on two legs with his human throat and mouth, able to talk to and understand his mate. “And regarding the plates, I like money a great deal, but not every transaction is about making more of it.”
“You’re quite wise. Did you know that?” Winking at him, she moved on to other crates.
He followed, grinning. Following her seemed natural and smart. She was curious, but cautious. She’d keep him as safe as he’d keep her.
“I’d just as soon donate much of this,” he said.
“I bet the folks in Norseton would take it off your hands.”
“What would they do with dozens of dishes?”
“Don’t you read the Norseton e-newsletter?”
“No, I didn’t realize there was one.”
“It’s really entertaining, actually. The queen’s aide, Lora, compiles all the news and happenings. There’s also a really freaking difficult crossword puzzle in there. Some of the facts are pretty arcane. I can never complete it without copious assistance from Google, and even that’s risky because people on the Internet aren’t always great spellers.”
He snorted, and she smiled.
When she smiled, so soft and genuine, he started to believe wholeheartedly that the future wouldn’t be as execrable as the recent past. She’d make things better.
“Anyway, they host these huge banquets there all the time. They’re not all super-fancy, but I think dishes like those would be pretty versatile. I also think Muriel would appreciate that they have a little history.”
“Hmm. Think so?”
“I do.”
Across the room, Mary’s phone chimed loudly.
“Oh! I’d better see who that is. I’m sure there are a lot of people trying to get in touch with me today.”
He followed at her heels, curious. Worried, really, of what she’d say or do—if she’d send out some sort of S.O.S. for her rescue, leaving Andreas high and dry, or if she’d keep her personal business exactly that—personal.
She fished the phone out of her bag, sat on the settee, and squinted at the screen. “Oh.” She typed in a response and sent it before Andreas could query her about the recipient.
“The wolves,” she said aloofly. “They needed to know our exact location.”