“Why did you tell me all this?”
Alex’s question caught Elaina off guard, and she jerked up. “I don’t know.”
That statement wasn’t true, but she didn’t want to admit how his queries compelled her to reveal her secrets. How she longed to have him know her. How he affected her.
Her gaze drifted to his lips, which probably explained the truth more than she intended. She forced her attention to the lapel of his tuxedo.
A knock rapped on the door, and Baxter poked his head inside Alex’s office. “Er, sorry to interrupt, Mr. Wyatt, but George is on his way. He needs to finalize the arrangements for the presentation. I thought I should warn you.”
Alex released her. “Wait here.”
He strode toward the door, his focus on Baxter. “I commend you for checking on my guest’s wellbeing, but next time, wait for my permission to enter. As you can see...”
The rest of his reprimand was drowned out by the click of the door closing—and being locked.
She should have jumped immediately at the opportunity to flee, but the sudden removal of Alex’s touch, or more precisely, his heat, shocked her heart. How he managed to warm her, she didn’t know and wasn’t complaining, but right now, its loss was damned inconvenient. Precious seconds ticked by while she waited for her heartbeat to stabilize.
God, why was she such an idiot around him? Sure, at first she hadn’t fought to get away because escaping a knight was impossible, and if death was a given, she’d rather embrace a quick demise than suffer the way her mother had. But even after discovering he was nothing more than a mutant, she’d babbled like a stupid, doe-eyed girl as soon as he’d looked in her direction. Here, let’s tell the powerful man all our secrets. Idiot.
This was why she restrained her risk-taking instincts. Dragons were simply too unstable to rely on their instincts and still act logical and mature. And idiotic recklessness was a sure way to slip up and gain her father’s attention. She couldn’t afford mistakes.
As soon as she felt steady enough, she rushed to the large picture window. Several-inch-thick glass stood between her and the outside. Since when was glass that thick? She tapped on the window. The resonance was all wrong, deep and deadened.
Her forehead sagged against the window. It was probably some bulletproof, unbreakable, polycarbonate-something-or-other. Apparently, multi-kajillionaires worried about their safety.
She swept through his office, tapping at various spots on the side and outer walls. The results were the same. Solid mass lay behind the wood paneling. Escape wouldn’t come from simply busting through thin plaster or drywall. Heat vents? Too small. Ceiling? Floor? Still solid.
Her hiss broke the quiet of her tiptoeing around the room. The sole exit point was through the door. She laid her ear against the wood. Muffled voices sounded on the other side.
She glared at the doorknob. Forget about this place being an “impregnable” fortress, it was more like “inescapable.”
Her only choice was to use up all her new energy by breaking the lock, dealing with however many security guards stood outside, fleeing from the mansion, and oh yeah, somehow finding a way back to her car. And as a bonus, the violent exit would land her name and picture on the news as a wanted criminal.
Perfect. Her father would find her for sure.
Her gaze landed on the chair at Alex’s desk. If she was honest with herself, she’d broken the secrets of her kind because of more than just her tipsy mood. Ever since she’d escaped her father, she’d been in the human world, but not one of them. Then this man—this human man—affected her more profoundly than she’d ever thought possible.
So, should she make herself the top story of the late night news? Or should she stay and see how things played out with the man who was not a knight, not driven to kill her, and whose touch strengthened her heart and weakened her knees? His calm acceptance of her nature proved he wasn’t a typical human.
With all its rules, human society had never welcomed her, but what if he did? What would it feel like to fit in somewhere?
A small voice reminded her that she couldn’t get what she really wanted. Dragons were incapable of real relationships. But would it be so bad to see where things could go with him?
The lock on the door clicked, and she hurriedly retook her position in the chair.
Alex entered, closed the door, and stood in front of her. “Now, what am I to do with you?”
She reached for him, eager to feel his warmth wash over her body. He obligingly returned to his crouch, bringing his eyes level with hers. His palm settled on her cheek, banishing her shivers, and his thumb brushed her lips once more.
“Tell me everything. How do weak dragons like you become more powerful?”
The heady sensation of his touch scrambled her thoughts again, and she sank against his palm. “Dragons get energy from their hoard. The more treasure they have, the stronger their potential, like having access to a grocery store. And the more fresh or unused their treasure is, the more they can draw on that strength, like having fresh food in the fridge.” Her eyelids fluttered closed. “The oldest and most powerful dragons have constant access to an all-you-can-eat buffet, with the clichéd huge caves filled with endless piles of gold and gems you read about in fairy tales. I have less than a quarter of a square foot.”
His fingers tensed against her skin, and his thumb pressed on the chain at her neck. “The jewelry isn’t an illusion, is it?”
The warm feelings inside her shriveled, and she opened her eyes. Damn. Of course he wouldn’t be okay with her taking things. Those problematic human rules again. It’d never work between them.
He stood and went into full “menacing” mode, complete with cold glare and stiff jaw. Time to go.
She dove to one side. He trapped her before she’d lunged more than two feet and tossed her back into the chair. Its wheeled legs thumped off the area rug and rumbled over the hardwood floor and into the wall.
“You’re not leaving until you return the necklace.” His chin lifted. “And the earrings and bracelet for that matter.”
She rose, clutching the pendant in her fist. “I need them. I earned them.”
“You earned them. Really?” His stance widened, and he crossed his arms. “It looks to me as though you stole them.”
“Dragons don’t use words like ‘stealing.’ We—”
“Rather convenient.”
“Treasure must choose to bind to us. We can’t summon or claim an item if its connection to its current owner is too strong.” Taunting him, she marched forward and matched his pose. “So, yes, I earned them.”
“What about the original owner? What about the money they had to earn to afford it in the first place?” The corners of his eyes tightened. “Do you at least leave them a nice little thank you note?”
Hair lifted at the nape of her neck at the signs registering from her body. Energized. Hyperaware of his every muscle twitch. A desire to get closer to him.
The more dangerous he was, the more excited she became. Definitely an unsafe combination.
And talking through this wouldn’t help either. He’d never understand. Humans couldn’t.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I didn’t mean for you and I—” Her throat constricted. “It doesn’t matter if you understand or not. I need these, and well, quite frankly, you can’t take them from me so there’s no point arguing about it.”
“Bullshit.” He pulled a cell phone from his tuxedo’s inner pocket. “You can’t rationalize your way out of this. You’re stealing. I’ll turn you over to the cops and let them deal with you.”
“What are you going to tell them? That I stole a necklace they can’t see? Or forcibly remove from my body?” She took the decorative quill pen from his desk and playfully swirled the feather around the pendant. “They can’t touch me, and you know it.”
His eyes assumed a flinty cast, and the sense of power around him flared. She shuffled back. His influence could get her locked up regardless of the lack of proof.
Helpless and imprisoned under her real name. So not good.
She replaced the pen in its holder and tried another approach. “Have you ever been poor? I mean, a real you-don’t-know-where-your-next-meal-is-coming-from poor?”
He exhaled. “No.”
“That’s what my life’s been like for ten years, Alex. Ten years. I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen. The only one of my kind living among humans, the only one in the Americas at all. Ten years of scrounging a lost earring here, a discarded engagement ring there. Until I finally collected enough to do a real summoning.”
She grasped the necklace. “This is my energy—this is my food. If I don’t have enough treasure, I starve, and my heart stops beating.” Admitting her weakness went against her nature, and the points of her nails instinctively sharpened, ready to defend herself from anyone who assumed her helpless. “I’m sorry this messes up Mrs. Boyce’s day, I really am. But if I give it up, I die.”
“Why did you take that if you came here to steal—or whatever you want to call it—from me?”
“I came here for your guests.”
“And you were going to pick them clean?”
She couldn’t help grumbling, “I was on my way out when you dragged me in here.” She resisted poking him with a sharpened nail to emphasize her point. Barely. “I told you, this isn’t about greed or stealing. I’m just trying to survive.”
He leaned back against his desk and stared at her, arms crossed over his chest again. Although the distance between them gave her some needed breathing room, a shiver traveled through her heart at the loss of his heat.
Rather than squirm under his attention, she returned to his desk chair and tipped her chin. “So are we at an impasse? Am I to stay here forever because you refuse to let me go and yet can’t do anything to change the situation?”
Unexpectedly, he laughed. “No, the gossip pages would have a field day with that. I can already imagine the rumors flying around the ballroom as it is.”
“Rumors?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m supposed to be hosting a party out there.” He slipped his cell phone into his pocket and jerked his head, indicating beyond the door. “Several hundred of the most powerful and influential people in the state—and instead of pandering to them, I disappeared with a beautiful woman.”
“Oh. Oh...” The implications of his words mingled awkwardly in her thoughts. “I’m sorry.” And she meant it.
“I’m not.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Truthfully, if it wasn’t necessary for building fundraising partnerships, I’d never host these parties. I hate them.”
Despite the uncertainty hanging over the situation, she offered him an impish smile. “In that case, you’re welcome.”
Instead of scowling at her, he laughed again, and then he stood and strode toward her. “I propose a trade. I’ll give you something in exchange for everything you took.”
She leaned forward, unable to hide her shock. “You’d do that?”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features, as though he couldn’t believe his proposal either. Then he gave a single, sharp nod. “Yes.”
Respect for this man, this human, burned within her, more than she’d ever felt for any other being. He’d proven her wrong. On some level, he did understand.
“Why?” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure she’d spoken aloud, but she couldn’t help the question.
He seemed too good to be true. And she desperately wanted him to be true.
Alex pivoted away, hiding whatever his expression might reveal. He roamed to the picture window across his office, the darkness outside masking his thoughts. Why was he willing to help her?
The discovery that she was the ultimate gold-digger, literally, had revolted him at first. Yet it hadn’t stunted his desire for her—maybe because her claims of starvation rang true. After everything he’d endured with his father, fair fights were more interesting than easy victories over a weaker opponent. But he doubted that was the limit of his reasoning.
Outside, a haunting full moon rose from the horizon, glistening off the ripples of Lake Michigan. Through the thick air, the glowing orb shone huge and reddish. Unnatural. Despite appearances, this was the same moon he knew well.
Like the moon, was this woman someone he could relate to no matter her form? The long list of differences between them didn’t change his craving for her. Instead, the secrets she’d revealed filled in a piece of him he hadn’t realized was missing. A piece he didn’t want to lose again.
He studied her in the reflection on the glass. She’d picked up the feather quill again and was distractedly stroking its length. Without trying, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever known. Everything about her stirred his desire to keep her beside him. On some level, his urges were worrisome—possibly even reminiscent of his father’s attitudes—but he needed her close in a way that felt like destiny, not contempt.
He returned and sat on the edge of his desk. “To answer your question, I won’t allow anyone to harm my guests. But I also won’t make you starve. I’m helping you fix this situation.”
Her hands stopped their sensual movement. “Fix it?”
“Can you return the bracelet and the earrings the same way you took them?”
“I suppose. I’m not sure it’s ever been tried.”
“The necklace will have to be ‘found’ in the ballroom somewhere, as Mrs. Boyce has already noticed it missing.”
She pointed the feather at him. “Why do you care about protecting my reputation in front of these people?”
His stomach hollowed at the uncertainty her question implied. If she didn’t cooperate, he’d be forced to have her escorted out. Away from him. The thought propelled him to his feet. He wanted to hold her, grab her—restrain her if necessary. His plan was the only outcome he could accept.
“Because you’re going to be my date for the evening.”
Her eyes opened wide, and then one brow rose. “I should have known.” She stood and tapped the quill against her lips. “Let me get this straight. The deal is, I return the jewelry and pretend to be Mr. Bossypants’s doting arm ornament, and in exchange you’ll give me something I deem of equal or greater value?”
Christ, she didn’t have to make it sound like that. He didn’t need to pay for anyone’s company. “Your words, not mine.”
“But that’s the deal, right?” She replaced the quill in its holder.
His jaw clenched so hard his blood pressure rose and pounded in his ears. Jesus, what he wouldn’t do to force her to submit.
His entire foundation was at risk because of her. The governor would never cooperate with the statewide expansion plan if a thief walked out with his wife’s jewelry. And God only knew how long he had until the owners of the other items discovered their losses. If multiple thefts were reported at his party, everyone would hold him responsible. All potential donors down the drain. For the sake of everything he’d worked for, he had to control himself.
“Yes. That’s the deal.”
She stuck out her hand and gave him a triumphant grin. “Agreed.”
His chest sank at her display of glee. He shook on their arrangement without enthusiasm, the joy sucked out of his victory. Her claim of starvation notwithstanding, she had a mercenary streak as deep as any other gold-digger.
And he’d approved letting her determine what was of equal or greater value. Wonderful.
She sat on top of his desk and crossed her legs, shifting the open slit of her dress up her shapely thighs an inch or so. He stifled a groan. She knew how to push his buttons—the bad ones and the good ones.
“So...” Her playful tone matched her mischievous expression. “Let’s see what you have to buy me off.”
He yanked his money clip from his pocket and separated the wad of cash. “Just tell me how much this is going to cost.”
But her attention didn’t follow the dollar bills. A quiet squeal escaped her, and she hopped off his desk and hovered closer to the money clip itself.
“Ooo, 3.64 total carat weight, G and H color, VS2 clarity diamonds set in 47.5 grams of fourteen-karat white gold.”
“Uh, yeah.” He almost smiled at her unusual talent. “No, 3.64 carats? I paid for 3.75.”
“Trust me.” She flashed a smug grin. “I’m never wrong.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He flipped the clip right-side up, and his thumb brushed the embedded diamonds forming a winged serpent shape on the clip’s surface.
She sucked in a breath. “You weren’t lying.”
“I told you, dragons have always fascinated me.”
“Okay, I’ll take it.”
His fingers tightened around the clip. “What do you mean, you’ll take it?”
“I mean...” She drew out the word and gave him a duh look. “I’ll take that for the trade.”
“In exchange for what, the bracelet or the earrings?”
“All of it.”
His ingrained desire for fairness almost prompted him to protest that although the money clip hadn’t been cheap, it was far from the value of all three items, but he caught himself in time.
She deciphered his expression anyway. “Human monetary values don’t match the energy I receive from an object. The stronger the connection between an object and its current owner, the more valuable it is to me. And you clearly don’t want to give that up. If I can take it from you—and that’s a big ‘if’—the energy I’d get from it would surpass what I receive from all of these.” She gestured to the stolen jewelry.
He shook his head at her candor. She certainly didn’t fit under a tidy good or bad label. More importantly, she’d proven him flat-out wrong. She might need gold to survive, but she was nothing like the gold-diggers he’d known.
Under his breath, he muttered, “You’re absolutely maddening.”
She gave him a saucy smile. “From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She patted his wooden desktop. “I need you to put it here.”
“You haven’t turned over the jewelry yet.”
“I need their energy to claim that from you.” She shrugged. “If you don’t trust me, we can stand here all night.”
“Why can’t I just give it to you?”
“I have to overcome your connection to the clip to claim it and establish my bond. Without that bond, I can’t get energy from treasure no matter how much it’s worth in human terms.” She tapped a fingertip against her lips, which teased him with a curve. “The other option for overcoming your connection to the clip is killing you, but I’ve taken a vow of non-violence. And I don’t think dying would be your preference either.”
His brow climbed high on his forehead. Beautiful, witty, truthful, intriguing...
The money clip clattered to the desk with his decision to trust her.
She stretched her hand toward the desk but didn’t touch the clip. Her eyes closed, and her features tensed in concentration. Nothing happened.
She eyed him and grimaced. “I told you I wasn’t very strong.”
Her face screwed up once more. Any lingering suspicions he had about her vanished. She hadn’t tried to take advantage of him, and she hadn’t been lying about her weakness.
Again, nothing happened to the money clip. But this time, she wobbled on her feet.
He grasped her other arm. The desire to protect her was as strong as his urge to overpower her, and that contradiction was going to be the end of him.