Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 29

When the waitress brings the check, she sets it in the center of the table, and Dane and Ambrose reach for and take hold of it at the same time.

"May I?" Ambrose asks.

Dane shakes his head. "This is work. I'll get it."

I expect Ambrose to insist, or make some high-handed move, but he doesn't, instead releasing the little book with a gracious nod of thanks.

He, Julian, and I excuse ourselves to wait outside, and as we pass beyond the range of Dane's hearing, Ambrose leans close and whispers in my ear.

"Those alpha types," he mutters, "you've got to give 'em a win every now and then, or they get tetchy on you."

I snort to hide a laugh, and wonder exactly what 'type' Ambrose thinks he is.

~ ☾ ~

Mathilda 'Mattie' Macleod lives in a highly modern home. Its front is a wide, sweeping curve of gray stone, which blends with the rocky landscape in which it's set.

She greets us at the door, wearing a floor-length sleeveless gown and looking like a Roman noblewoman with her hair done up in a complex heap of coils on her head. She's thin, tall, and looks to be in her early forties. She's beautiful in a way that suggests an obsession with beauty, but when she spots Ambrose at my side, her elegantly defined features transform with a sour scowl.

"Ambrose," she grimaces. "I didn't know you were a part of this."

"Grandmother." His tone drips derision, and if there was any doubt about his story of mutual animosity between himself and his extended family, it is quickly laid to rest.

"Well, I suppose you may as well come in," Mattie says, standing aside. "The sooner we finish this unpleasantness, the better."

We enter, and she promptly shuts and re-arms the security system on her door. I don't know if she really thinks it will keep the thief out, but I see Dane's eyes narrow. Following his gaze, I detect a slight tremble in her hands. However cool, collected, and careless she might appear, something is getting to her.

"So, what is it that you want to know, Mr. Hunter, that Ambrose can't tell you and that I haven't told you already?" she asks as she leads us through an open, sparsely furnished space towards the back of the house, which is walled with glass, and looks out on a gray, flagstone patio and a long, pristinely blue pool.

"Why don't we sit down first," Dane answers.

"That upsetting, is it? Now I am concerned." She sounded anything but, and I wondered how much of her attitude was genuine, and how much was only a cover for her fear. "Very well. This way."

She takes us outside to a set of sleek, modern-looking patio furniture beside the pool, and settles into one of the low, cube-like chairs, leaning back with her legs crossed and her arms resting on either side. She looks regal and relaxed, like a classic Hollywood movie star—a Joan Crawford or Betty Davis, maybe—and watches with a sphinx-like expression as Dane and the rest of us take the remaining seats. I end up next to Ambrose on a larger settee, and note how closely he seems to watch his grandmother's every move.

"Get on with it then," she says, waving a hand.

Dane scowls. With his background in law-enforcement, he's used to people—especially those who find themselves on the other side of an interview—treating him with hostility and even disrespect, and I consider that it's fortunate he's a relatively even-tempered Wolf, for an alpha.

"We'd like to ask you about your sister, Ms. Macleod," Dane begins. "About Rosie."

Mattie frowns. "Rosie's been dead over a century. What possible relevance could that have now?"