My car pulled up to the curb just in time for me to glimpse Alexander hopping out of the driver’s seat of a Bentley he’d just parked nearby.
He jogged straight to my door and beat my driver to the task of opening it for me.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, extending an open hand.
“Good timing.” I let him pull me out of the backseat and take away my briefcase.
Naturally, I wondered what he’d been up this afternoon. Where he was coming from. But when I texted him on my way out of the office, letting him know I was getting out of work early, he had only responded, rather mysteriously, that he was also just returning from the city and would meet me at the palace.
And my training was quite clear on this subject. My Alpha had a right to his privacy. It was not my place to ask him questions ab
