My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas

I was thirty minutes late and smelled like flowers.

Literally.

Spent the afternoon tangled with two weeds in one of our private testing gardens—purely scientific, of course.

Testing a new pheromone inhibitor for poisonous omegas.

From the way they were moaning my name, I think I deserve the five stars review.

I still had the scent of overripe honeysuckle on my skin when I stepped into the restaurant.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt... underdressed.

There he was. Luther Wilkers.

Tall, immaculate, and judging me like I’d just tracked mud through a cathedral.

His tie was loose, but that stiff spine and those tightly crossed arms said everything.

Purple eyes- God, those eyes— looked me over like I was the gum stuck to his Louboutin.

I grinned. Oh, he was going to hate me.