Daddy's Girl - Victoria Sue Page 0,1

vineyard would be out of the question.

His relationship with Isaac had been another point in favor of the fertility center. Once the requisite heir had been born he could think about maybe having someone permanent in his life.

“When do you think he would be available to see me?” Maybe he should go visit him, although as he lived with his parents that could be problematic. Papa looked uncomfortable and suspicion made Kyron’s skin itch. “What did you do?”

“He’s waiting in the kitchen.”

“What?”

Papa extended his hands as if saying he had no choice. “You are out of time. His father is sick and needs care. When he lost his job, he lost all access to medical care except the free clinics he can’t get to. The omega is desperate enough to agree to anything. You can tie him up in any legal knot you choose.”

Could I?

That made Kyron squirm a little, but the omega would be well compensated. It wasn’t as cutthroat as it sounded, and it was hardly as if Kyron was taking advantage of him. “Tell me about him,” he said reluctantly.

“Tolly Edgwick. His father has worked in various vineyards for forty years but was involved in an accident last year that has caused ongoing health problems. Tolly’s experience is looking after horses.”

“How old is he?”

Papa reddened a little, and Kyron’s skin itched a second time. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s thirty-one.”

Kyron’s eyebrows shot up. “Thirty-one?” It was unheard of for an omega not to be bound or even mated before they were of that age, even if technically pregnancies could happen until he was forty or so. “He’s a professional omega?” Some omegas chose to just work for the fertility centers. Getting pregnant was a job that they would be well paid for, and they would only be bound—or contracted—to the alpha for the length of the pregnancy.

“No. He signed up for the fertility clinic seven months ago and got all the tests done, but he hasn’t been chosen by any alphas.”

“Why?” Kyron asked suspiciously, especially if he would agree to anything. An unscrupulous alpha could easily get him for simple living expenses. Some omegas—he knew—demanded thousands of dollars.

Papa sighed. “He isn’t what I would describe as a typical omega.”

Kyron’s heart sank. “Meaning?”

“Meaning he’s not a tiny, delicate young man that needs an alpha to function.” Papa didn’t try to hide his disgust. He knew Papa hated that the society they lived in dictated looks were everything, and that omegas were nothing but pretty decorations to have hanging on the alpha’s arm. Papa himself was a shrewd businessman, and yes, he was small, but no one messed with him, not if they knew what was good for them.

Kyron sighed. He knew a corner when he was backed into one, and really, looks didn’t matter. If he’d had the tests, he was fertile and willing. Kyron shouldn’t need any more.

“Okay, let’s have him in here then.”

Papa beamed and jumped up, practically jogging out of the room. Kyron blew out a long breath. It seemed neither of them had any choice. Kyron looked up as the door opened a second time and his eyes widened as he saw the man following Papa into the room.

Because Tolly Edgwick wasn’t like any omega Kyron had ever seen, from the bottom of his large bare feet, up a huge powerful body, to wide muscled arms and hands the size of dinner plates.

He might have gulped.

Kyron’s blue eyes met nearly jet black ones. Or maybe they were brown, but the hate and obvious fury that simmered there had darkened them to thunderclouds. Tolly Edgwick was pissed. Anger filled every tendon that stood out on his neck, and the way he held his body leashed, this man didn’t have a subservient bone in his body.

And he was possibly the most magnificent thing Kyron had ever seen.

“Tolly?” Kyron managed to get out of his dry throat and extended his hand. Tolly didn’t reply, merely stared at the thing for too long to be anything other than insolent, but clutched it just as Kyron was going to let his hand drop.

“Mister Grayson,” he said, his grip making Kyron want to wince. The slight inflection of the word “mister” was just enough for it to sound sarcastic, and nowhere even in the vicinity of respectful. From the corner of his eye Kyron saw Papa duck his head, but not quickly enough he didn’t see the smile on the older man’s lips.

“Sit down.” Kyron barked the order a little