But I couldn’t.
There were people watching. We were in a public place.
Plus the cameras.
Why did he have to be an inmate, constantly surveyed by those annoying red eyes, unblinking from every corner of the room?
It was enough to drive a woman insane.
“Laney, what’s wrong?” Gently, he placed his finger under my chin, lifting my head so that our gazes met.
I swallowed.
“Nothing,” came my mumble, lashes coming down to shield my eyes. I was embarrassed for my co-workers’ behavior, not to mention ashamed.
“Laney.” His voice was firm and unwavering. “Tell me.” By his side, his hand curled into a fist as if ready to defend me by any means necessary.
I knew, deep down, that this man would protect me against anything. He cared about me, my welfare was of paramount importance.
And I adored him for making me number one.
“Some of my colleagues were talking,” came my slow words. “They were all sorts of things about the San Nemo,” was my broken whisper. “About the prisoners, how they stink and don’t know their alphabet. It made me so angry,” were my trembling words.
But Mason wasn’t disturbed. Instead of mouthing off or swearing revenge, the alpha merely chuckled deep in his chest. One big hand moving to my cheek, cupping it gently.
Oh no. We were moving into intimate territory. Anyone could easily see we were more than just working together, but Mason didn’t seem to care. Then again, he was always so confident. Nothing fazed my self-assured alpha.
“Thank you sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning forwards. “Thank you for caring about us supposed losers.”
“You’re not a loser,” was my whispered reply, staring into his eyes. “Not in a million years.”
And the blue eyes grew dark and mesmerizing, intense with the fire within.
I held my breath.
Oh god, this was it.
If we kissed now, here in the open, our secret would be exposed to the world. Everyone would know that I was in love with a convicted billionaire.
But before it happened, voices sounded at the door, noisy and boisterous.
“Shut up,” hissed one female tone. “We’re almost there.”
“Aw, it doesn’t matter,” drawled Michael. “They’re just bums and schlubs anyways.”
The other reporters. Of course. My cheeks grew red at their comments, embarrassed and ashamed.
But Mason didn’t care. He grabbed my hand and squeezed, reassurance and support in those blue eyes. And then quickly, the alpha swung around and returned to his chair, taking his seat like a member of royalty.
I couldn’t help but stare.
Oh god, Mr. Evercore was sexy. Unperturbed despite knowing that these people hated him and hated being here.
Fortunately, we started the session right away.
Penelope’s high-pitched voice trilled loudly.
“Alright, everyone. We’re so glad that you’ve stuck with the program this long. As our quarterly deadline approaches, we’d like everyone to turn in their projects today. Finishing touches can be made next week. Then you’ll all be able to see your hard work published in the San Nemo Times. Isn’t that exciting?”
She spoke to the group of inmates as if they were a bunch of kindergarten kids, condescending and child-like.
But these were grown men, some already in their fifties, staring at Penelope like she was a circus clown. And yet she had no idea.
How did the redhead get to be so clueless?
“Today’s meeting will be a little bit longer because we’ll be having a pizza dinner together,” the woman burbled on. “Yum!”
Oh God, oh god. I was so embarrassed as Penelope literally mimed holding a piece of pizza and taking a big bite. The charade was unstoppable, totally humiliating to everyone in the room. But she had no idea.
“Anyway, I hope everyone has fun today and if you have any questions, feel free to ask!”
Finally, the redhead stepped down. The room buzzed with energy as people got up to meet with their mentors. And Mason appeared in a flash.
“You ready Laney?” he asked, voice neutral for anyone that was listening. “Let’s find a seat in the back.”
We strolled to the rear of the library, wending our way between towering bookshelves before arriving at a cozy nook. Two matching chairs waited with fluffy-looking cushions that were relatively clean. A table draped with a purple cloth, probably stolen from the tailoring class, was decorated with an oddly-shaped vase. Hmm, someone must have made that during ceramics class, and then smuggled it into the library.
“You like?” Mason growled.
And I looked up at him with wide eyes.
“You did this, didn’t you?” I whispered. “This wasn’t here before.”
Mason grinned.
“Sorry it couldn’t be more fancy sweetheart. This was the best I could do.”
And I looked at him, heart in my eyes.
“It’s wonderful,” was my whisper. “Thank you for taking the trouble to set this up. I feel really special.”
Mason didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled back my chair, nodding his head at the seat.
I levered myself down, one leg over the other, looking down at my hands as they rested on my knees. I didn’t want to blush, but heat was already rising in my cheeks.