Chapter Ten

ALEX

The following day, Margaret dragged me along to the Teague and Fortescue meetings, telling me I was supposed to be observing and learning, not slinking off because I didn't like our hosts. When we finally returned to the house, Nate cut me out of the herd with the effortless charm and ease of someone used to socialising.

"Do you want to go flying tonight?" he asked me. "It's been almost a week since my last flight, and God knows, being here, I need it."

"Sounds great," I said, not quite truthfully. We needed privacy so he could look at my photos, and I was desperate to get out of the city. I'd find a way to deal with the whole flying thing when it came to the crunch.

"We'll need to find somewhere. Where I used to go with Charlie is too dangerous," he told me.

Had he and Charlie been flying over an airport or something? I wouldn't put anything past Charlie Fortescue. I scrolled around my map app and found the perfect place.

"What about this area next to the River Severn?" I asked him. It was ideal—no villages or towns for miles, so he'd be able to fly unseen, and I'd be able to swim.

"Looks good," he said. "We'd better give our apologies for supper. If we wait until afterwards, we'll get back later than would be acceptable."

"So long as we can swing by a burger place." Food shouldn't be my priority, but I was a little worried he might not think of it.

His lips twitched. "I won't let you starve, Alex," he assured me.

I had to glance away to hide how much I'd liked that. It had felt intimate. A promise to take care of me.

Oh, shit. This was ridiculous. I scarcely knew him, yet I was weaving a narrative around him. He was a Mortimer. A banker. But I couldn't stop hoping that, away from this house, we could explore the attraction between us. I wasn't imagining the way he looked at me sometimes, and he'd issued a very clear invitation both in the coffee shop and the old theatre. He'd definitely been up for it. But at other times, he'd started to flirt and then backed off. I desperately hoped that wouldn't be the case tonight.

*

I relaxed into the heated leather car seat, my legs sprawling in the spacious passenger side. My lip had curled when I'd seen that Nate drove a Porsche, with all the rich-person stereotypes that went along with that. As soon as he started it up, I changed my mind. Though the Porsche was low on the road, there was very little road noise, and the engine sounded like a dragon about to breathe fire. It cornered like it was on rails, accelerated like a dream, and God, I wanted so badly to drive it to feel how it handled.

Nate was a good driver. Fast and safe, with a sureness that had me watching his fingers curling around the gear stick and steering wheel and thinking about what else I'd like to see them curved around. Hence the sprawling. And it was working, because although he was concentrating on the traffic, now and then he'd glance over at my legs in faded old jeans.

He finally took us along a single-track lane with ruts that even the Porsche's suspension couldn't mask entirely and parked at the end. This far from civilisation, the moon was bright, the only sound the tick of the cooling engine.

I could already scent the river, damp and slightly fishy. It wasn't the fresh salt of the sea, but it was good enough. My dragon was twisting and turning inside me, desperate to get into the water.

"Photos now or afterwards?" Nate asked, though his right leg was jiggling as if his dragon was as impatient as mine.

"After," I said, and opened my door before my dragon came roaring out and burst the car's metal seams.

On the grassy riverbank, the sheer breadth of the river took me by surprise. It looked to be running high, though I couldn't tell if that was from the recent rain or if the tide came up this far. It might be a better substitute for the sea than I'd anticipated.

Another time, I'd have taken the opportunity to look at Nate as we undressed, but right now, my dragon needed to be free. We were spoiled in Cornwall by miles of dark countryside in which to shift, and I wasn't used to going so long without it.

He'd already taken off by the time I shifted. I'm going to swim. Let me know when you're finished, I thought to him as I launched myself into the water. It wasn't the rough and tumble of the Celtic Sea, the treacherous currents that over the centuries had sent so many ships to their deaths on jagged rocks, but it wasn't precisely tame, either. The river was far deeper than I'd expected, the current strong enough to make things interesting. I closed my nostrils, slid my transparent third eyelids across to protect my eyes from the diesel tainting the water, and dived under the surface.

Perhaps, for me, swimming is what flying's like for other dragons. It was silent down there except for my heartbeat, my only companions some startled fish. Worries over what the Fortescues wanted with my family faded until there was only me and the water.

I surfaced occasionally to check where I was and to take another lungful of air. On one of those occasions, I looked up and saw a huge winged shape crossing the face of the moon. Nate was stunning as a dragon. My dragon wanted him because he was beautiful and precious. I wanted him because he was Nate.

Somehow, out here, when I was fully in tune with my dragon, the fact he was a banker became irrelevant. That was what he was, not who he was. He'd been sweet to Ella, indulging her like a caring big brother, genuinely respectful to all the Teagues he'd met, and behind his manners, he had a swift sense of humour. He was also fucking gorgeous, and I wanted him in my bed more than I'd wanted anything in a long time.

I dived back under the surface once he disappeared behind a cloud. Now, I was marking time, waiting for him to return to earth. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to kiss him without any reason other than us wanting to kiss one another. I needed to feel him, to taste him, to learnthe essence of Nate Mortimer.

If it meant I fell in love with him, well, I was already halfway there. I'd deal with my broken heart later. I always did.

NATE

Flying had always been my escape. There was no thrill like twisting and turning in the vastness of the sky, using my massive wings to plummet and climb at will, or riding the thermals in long, lazy circles.

I was glad we'd found this place. Farmland covered the countryside, with just a few houses dotted around. The fields were beautiful and ghostly in the moonlight, and the river shone like a large silver snake. It was very different from Salisbury Plain, where Charlie and I used to fly. For one thing, there was no risk of the military launching flares or shells if they were engaged in night exercises. The thrill of danger had been half the fun. Now, I found myself marvelling that we'd survived as long as we had. Young and dumb just about covered it.

Calm and centred once more, with all thoughts of the Fortescues banished, I landed on the riverbank and slapped the water with my tail. The vibrations should get Alex's attention. I'd been surprised he'd chosen to swim rather than fly, but Rufus sometimes did the same. There must be an enjoyment in swimming that eluded me.

Moments later, he climbed out, water streaming from his wings and his hide. There was something about him… Something I'd never felt from any other dragon. He looked the same as any of us, but there was a—I must be losing it. I wanted to duck my head before him. To swear fealty? Where the fuck had that come from?

Shaken, I shifted. With my dragon's monochromatic vision replaced by colour, I saw he was a beautiful grey, so dark that he was almost black, his wet scales shimmering in the moonlight. Whatever wild instinct had possessed me was almost gone now I was in human form, though my brain was working overtime. Surely my dragon didn't believe the whole King Arthur thing.

He shook himself, showering me in cold river water.

"Thank you very much." I tried to make it sound peevish, but honestly, I was rueful. My fault for standing and staring rather than moving out of range.

He shifted and grinned at me, so normal, so Alex, that all thoughts of legendary kings fled. Apart from the fact I'd go to my knees for him in an instant.

"You shouldn't have been standing there like a stunned mullet, then," he informed me. "But sorry. I forgot how big I am."

He bit his lip firmly. It took me an instant to realise where his mind had gone. God, I'd been slow on the uptake, but not any longer. Dragons don't sexualise nakedness. That would swiftly become embarrassing given the number of times we shift around others. But Alex…

Using willpower I didn't know I had, I tore my gaze away from him. Away from his broad chest, the abs that swimming as a dragon kept tight and firm and glorious, and his muscled thighs. From what was between his thighs. It didn't appear to matter that I wasn't looking at him—my cock was reacting to his naked proximity.

I knew I should turn away and get dressed. I knew this was the worst idea I'd ever had. But God help me, I was only human, and Alex was right there.

Right there and interested, unless I'd completely misread his flirting before.

I looked back at him, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Taking that as evidence that he was just as tempted, I stopped resisting the pull I felt towards him. My eyes ranged over him, drinking in his muscled body and the play of moonlight on his skin. "I'd like to find out for myself how big you are," I said.

I couldn't see the expression in his eyes, shadowed as he moved forward. Slowly, achingly slowly, we leaned in, and then he slanted his mouth over mine, hot and slick. I groaned as our tongues slid together. The way he kissed was everythingI'd remembered and more.

I pressed against him, my hands roaming over his wet skin. He was so hot I didn't feel the chill of the autumn night. Dragons run warm, even in human form, and Alex ran hotter than the average dragon.

I eventually tore my mouth from his. "Want to taste you," I said, my voice thick, as I nipped at the hinge of his jaw, the precursor to working my way down his body and sucking his hot, hard cock.

His hand was in my hair suddenly, pulling me away. "Don't," he said sharply. "I've just got out of that river and God only knows what bacteria are in the water. Safest to stick to hands only. We shouldn't even have kissed." He closed his eyes and his head dropped forward. "Fuck. And now I've got water all over you, so I can't blow you either."

Honestly, that was one hell of a disappointment, but his frustration with himself caused a laugh to well up inside me. "Let me get the tarp from the car, so at least we're not lying on wet grass."

The tarp was cold and grubby, though once we were lying together, I stopped noticing. He was on top of me, and his weight and warmth holding me there were everything I wanted. Almost everything I wanted. His cock was hard, and I was pushing up against it and moaning at the satin heat sliding against mine.

He worked his hand between us, and curved it around our cocks. His knuckles bumped my stomach as I arched up into his hand, gasping. I already knew that Alex kissed as if there were no tomorrow, but that was nothing compared with what he knew how to do with his hands. I was making embarrassing noises as I grew close, begging him to move faster, begging for more, and then I cried out, and my spunk landed warm and wet on my skin. He was gasping, looking down at me as his hand worked. He shuddered and groaned before collapsing on top of me and burying his face into my neck.

"I'm squashing you," he said after a while, and made as if to move.

I held him there. "You're warm." It was an excuse—once I let him go, this would be over. And now that my brain was in charge once more, I knew I couldn't risk doing that again with him.

He lifted his head and looked down at me, I couldn't see his expression in the shadows as he stroked my hair back from my face. "I'm getting a mite chilly," he said at last, and rolled off me. "Don't suppose you've got something useful like a towel in your car?"

I had precisely nothing in my car save my phone, a spare wheel and a tool kit. I scrambled to my feet, feeling the cold for myself now that my warm, Alex-shaped blanket was gone, and found my clothes. My cashmere jumper would have to be sacrificed for a very good cause. I tossed it to him. "Use that."

I didn'twant to go back into the Fortescues' house smelling as if we'd had sex. When he gave back my somewhat damp jumper, I wiped myself off carefully with the dry bits before slinging it in the car boot. I'd find a bin somewhere to discreetly dispose of it.

Once we were dressed, I started the car and turned on the heater. He passed me his phone. "I'm not sure anything there's of use. As well as James's desk, I had another look at his computer, but there wasn't anything obvious lurking among the documents. All the ‘Mort d'Arthur' emails were cryptic. I took pictures of them anyway, in case their dates mean something to your grandfather."

He really wasn't just a pretty face. I squashed the urge to cup his face in my hands so I could admire it some more. This was important. This was why I was here.

There were various financial statements and annual reports, and I was almost at the end of the photos when I paused and paged back.

"Shit," I said. "He's disinheriting Charlie."