I chose my words carefully. “Do you ever consider that something this flashy only reflects vanity and not status?”
His dark eyes remained steady on the road ahead. “Someone of my status has earned the right to vanity.”
“My father is a wealthy Packmaster, and he doesn’t indulge in these kinds of extravagances. But the other packs in the territory still respect him.”
Lorenzo slowly eased around the corner. “Your father is a Packmaster? That comes as a surprise.”
I slanted my eyes toward his and something between us flickered for just a moment. “Do I seem meek to you? Because if that’s your impression, let me assure you that a quiet woman is neither weak nor inferior. I choose my words wisely.”
“Are you are implying that I do not?”
I touched the end of my long braid, which stretched down to my black skirt. There were quite a few flyaway hairs as I often kept it loosely bound.
He chuckled to himself. “How did a woman like you end up in Austin’s pack?”
“I was traded off because…”
The car slowed to a stop at the red light. “Continue,” he pressed, turning his attention my way.
I got butterflies and the hair on my arms stood up. Lorenzo captivated me with his Native American features—his strong nose, chiseled bone structure, and soft mouth. I was of mixed descent, so his skin tone was darker than mine—a warm shade of golden brown that a woman couldn’t help but admire. I could hardly look upon him, his alpha power was that strong. And yet I didn’t want him to know the effect it had on me. Nor did I want to reveal the truth about how I’d ended up with the Weston pack.
“I was nearing the time of change and had outgrown my father’s pack.”
“No one would mate with you?”
“You’re impossibly rude,” I said with a shake of my head.
He lifted his chin and arched a single eyebrow. “Hardly rude. Aside from your insolence, I find it impossible to believe no male would mate with a wolf as fair as you.”
The compliment hung in the air along with the insult, and I was uncertain of how to respond. His judgment was just as thick as the sweet words that rolled off his tongue. The true meaning behind spoken words was like Braille—not heard, but felt—and even a blind person could feel his intent.
“I find it quite fascinating that a man with your influence and pleasant features hasn’t chosen a mate.”
Lorenzo’s laugh warmed me like brandy. “Careful, female. That almost sounded like praise. Rumors spread fast, don’t they? People seem to enjoy a good gossip. If you want the truth, nashoba, there is no one woman who can fulfill all my needs. I require more than most men.”
“It must be lonely.”
“I have a few bitches who seek my company, but I keep my attention focused on strengthening my pack.”
That left me with a curious thought that lingered in my mind. It wasn’t illegal for Packmasters to take on more than one mate if all parties agreed—it had simply become an old-fashioned practice, and most modern women didn’t like sharing. In earlier times—before Shifters had gained freedom—women had sought protection that only an alpha wolf could offer, so they were willing to make concessions. Some archaic customs remained among the older packs, but most Shifters were progressive thinkers. Why didn’t Lorenzo just mate with more than one woman? Packs respected a Packmaster who was mated over a man who chose to be alone. His philandering ways would cast a shadow on him as a leader. How could a pack put their faith and loyalty into a man who could not show commitment?
“Lucky bitches,” I said facetiously.
Lorenzo’s laugh became robust and endearing. “You are a willful female.”
“Who is about to get sick in your car if you don’t stop hitting the gas so hard.”
He eased up and I noticed a pack of cigarettes.
“Can I have some gum?”
He knitted his brows, glancing around the interior. “What makes you certain I have gum?”
I pointed my finger at the pack. “A man with cigarettes always has gum. He thinks it will mask the stench on his breath. Mint would be great.”
Lorenzo opened a compartment between the seats and handed me some strong mint gum. It tasted refreshing and made me temporarily forget about my stomach. I wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Maybe next time when I chose to support my Packmaster, I’d simply compliment his meal instead of actually eating it. Good thing he hadn’t ordered calamari or something repulsive.
Lorenzo had a prominent Adam’s apple visible above the choker of beads he wore around his neck. And when he spoke, alpha power dripped from his words. “I don’t run across many Shifters who are loyal through and through. What you did back there ordering Cole’s dinner—clever girl.”
“Loyalty comes in many forms,” I said, smacking my gum. “If I have to endure a bellyache to stand behind my Packmaster, then so be it.”
“Perhaps karma is reprimanding you for making the wrong decision.”