Chapter Seventeen

ALEX

I woke to a warm body beside me and instantly remembered. Nate. He was still asleep, and I lay looking at him, the way that lock of hair tumbled over his forehead, stubble on his usually clean-shaven jaw, eyelashes curving dark against his cheeks. I remembered what he'd said by the river, that it didn't mean anything. But it hadn't felt like just sex last night. He'd held me afterwards. I'd felt wanted, and not just sexually.

When I woke again, Nate was propped up on one elbow, smiling down at me. "Morning," he said, and I pulled him down to kiss me.

This time was slower, and we took the chance to explore one another at length. Afterwards, we lay in the light filtering around the edges of the curtains, exchanging kisses. I didn't care what he'd said before—I knew this was more than just sex between us. All I had to do was find a way to persuade him of that fact.

The sound of a door slamming in the corridor outside interrupted our peace. "What time's checkout?" I asked. I didn't want housekeeping to barge in on us like this.

"I requested a late one," Nate said, and he looked suddenly uncertain. "I didn't intend to make assumptions, I was—"

I kissed him to shut him up. "I've said it before—you're a genius, Nate Mortimer." I wasn't up for anything else yet, but I longed to try out the big shower with Nate before we had to leave.

Nate reached out to the bedside table for the room service menu. Seemed old-fashioned to have it printed out, but maybe that was part of the period charm of the place. We had a four-poster bed, I noticed belatedly. In my defence, my attention had been on other things.

"Breakfast?"

"What's on the menu?" I asked.

Nate grinned at me as he passed it to me. "Anything you want, so long as you allow me recovery time."

Now that wasan interesting offer. And then I saw the prices. How much for coffee and crumpets?

"Go wild," he said. "Bim's paying."

I didn't believe that statement any more than I'd believed it the previous night. Nate was thoughtful and sweet in his attempts to preserve my pride, but he wasn't a good liar. Uncomfortable as I felt that Nate was paying for everything, the fact remained that I couldn't afford this and he could, easily. And he didn't seem to think less of me because of it.

Later, I conceded that being rich wasn't all bad. We'd had a long, lingering shower together and were propped up against mountains of pillows, wearing soft towelling bathrobes and tucking into full English breakfasts as autumnal sunlight flooded through the windows. I could get used to this sort of lifestyle.

He put his empty plate on the bedside table, and the reflection from his watch face danced over the wallpaper.

"I've been meaning to ask why you wear a watch," I said. "Family heirloom? Or are your clients all traditional types who expect you to be wearing one?"

"Neither." He paused for a moment. "It's a way I can keep some of my treasure with me."

Intrigued, I put my plate down and took hold of his wrist so I could get a closer look. Each of the hour markers on the watch face was a… "Diamond? Are those diamonds?"

"Yes."

I turned his wrist, watching the way the stones caught the light even through the face. I'd never seen a diamond in real life. Other jewels shone. These sparkled.

"They're really something," I said eventually, letting go of his wrist. "How many have you got?"

"Not quite enough," he said, the usual answer from dragons about their treasure. He glanced away from me, then back again. "I've never told anyone what my treasure is before."

My heart swelled. "I can't tell you what mine is," I started, wanting to give him something meaningful in return.

His happiness disappeared like a switch being flipped, and I replayed what I'd said.

"No, I mean, I would, it's just—" I paused. It never got easier to say. Especially not to Nate, who had become so important to me. "You know I'm not a full dragon."

He put his finger across my lips, silencing me. "I know you're both human and dragon."

I stared at him, wondering why he'd rephrased it when it meant the same damn thing.

"Don't define yourself by what you're not," he continued, and then closed his eyes briefly. Embarrassment? "Sorry. Talk about overstepping."

"No, it's okay," I said, and it was like something deep inside me shifted. I was still processing what he'd said when I realised I'd never finished my sentence. "The point is, I haven't got a treasure. Just a general desire to guard the family one."

"Oh," he said. There was no disdain in his voice, surprisingly. "I'd ask what that feels like, but I imagine it feels normal, like having a treasure does to me."

"I sort of know what it means to have one—like, right now, I want to drag you off to my lair and hoard you and guard you, so I get it."

"You want to hoard me?" His eyes fixed on my face with a painful intensity.

"Nate, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of crazy about you," I informed him. Might as well go for broke, and it was true. I wanted—so badly—to kiss him. I couldn't. I had to wait, to see if I'd moved too fast, yet again. "I know it's absolutely the worst time, what with you and—"

That was the last thing I said for a very long time. Hard to speak when someone was kissing you as if their life depended on it.

When he finally drew away and looked at me, his eyes grew sad. He lay back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "You don't really know me."

"Not yet, but I know some of the important things. Like, you're generous and thoughtful, clever, and you've got a great sense of humour—you laugh at my jokes, so you must have." Shit. Way to make it all about me. "You're kind, and you're protective as hell when it comes to your brother. And yeah, I don't know you all that well, and I want to find out all the other things you are—I bet you're annoying, leaving dirty socks on the floor or eating with your mouth open or something—but the things that are the core of you, I know those."

He rolled over, reaching out blindly to me, and I held him as he pressed his face against my shoulder. I didn't have a clue what he was thinking. All I knew was that he wanted to be held, and I wanted to hold him.

NATE

I'd had to hide my face from Alex. He mustn't know how his words affected me. For so many years, I'd known I wasn't enough. People only wanted me around because I'd learned how to make myself useful.

Alex had seen things in me that no one else had, that I hadn't known were there. The qualities he'd just reeled off had nothing to do with how many clients I brought in or how good a blowjob I gave. Being thoughtful or kind wasn't useful.

Everything I knew about myself was upended and called into question. I was lost, all my familiar signposts torn down by Alex's words.

When I finally had control over my expression, I sat up. His eyes were watchful. No wonder—he'd put himself out there and I'd given him nothing in response. But I didn't know what to say. I couldn't do this again. The split with Charlie had crushed me. When Alex walked away, I knew it would kill me.

But what if he didn't walk away? Perhaps I could have this.

His face was slowly closing down, becoming defensive and cautious. The contrast to how he usually looked, alight with laughter and happiness, was stark. And I was doing that to him. I swallowed and forced myself to speak.

"This is more than hooking up, isn't it?" Making him say it was cowardly, but I couldn't—I just couldn't risk his disgust if I'd misunderstood what he'd said.

"I'd like it to be." He moistened his lips.

My heart jumped at his words. I had to keep things light and not let him know how vital this was to me. "Are you sure the dirty sock thing isn't a dealbreaker? Because I"—my voice fractured with nerves—"I want this. I want to be with you."

His smile was like the first day of spring, warm and bright and filled with promise.

"Clean floors are overrated," he informed me happily and kissed me.

I was making little sounds into his mouth as I kissed him back, and I hoped to hell he thought they were turned-on sounds, not the joy and hope that were fizzing so fast inside me I couldn't keep it all in. We could have this. I could have him, something I hadn't thought possible. I'd just need to be careful not to ask for too much.

*

Much later, emotions safely hidden once more, we reluctantly began to dress in crumpled clothes. My suit would be a lost cause unless Bath had a decent dry cleaner. It had been worth it though, I thought, remembering the hunger with which Alex and I had torn off one another's clothes

"I prodded Steven last night," Alex informed me as he pulled his socks on.

"I hope that's not a euphemism."

"Don't worry—he couldn't get away fast enough. I wanted to know if he was familiar with our Arthurian heritage. It wasn't a surprise to him, and he was also scornful of James's attitude, so I'm pretty sure he knows what his old man's up to. So I baited him a bit—still not a euphemism. You're going to have to watch my back from now on. Otherwise, I'm going to wind up drugged, in Vegas, and married to Ella."

I stared at him. "I don't know what to say to that."

Alex grinned briefly. "I suspect Steven got in touch with some other dragon families to find out their thoughts on our heritage, because when he came back to talk to me later, he was definitelyinterested." He hesitated. "Damn it. I might have stirred up a hornets' nest instead of achieving anything useful for our investigation. We're not very good at this, are we?"

I sat on the bed beside him. "At least we know now that Steven's involved. I'd presumed, wrongly, that James would keep his plans ring-fenced from him. Steven has the reverse of a Midas touch—everything he handles turns to disaster."

Alex nudged me. "You're very proper for someone who's just been sucking my cock. I think the word you were looking for was shit."

"Probably," I agreed. "Speaking of our investigation, James introduced me to Tom Fortescue last night. He's James's brother and cut from the same cloth. They grilled me like a job interview, but one held over a shark tank—one wrong answer, and I'd have been chum. Tom wants me to go to Zurich with him in a couple of days' time. I think they want to evaluate how I handle clients. There's no other obvious explanation."

"So long as they're not going to throw you out of the plane halfway over the Channel," Alex said. "Do you think it's safe to go with a Fortescue to somewhere no one knows you?"

"I have no doubt that if James Fortescue knew what we were up to, he'd be the one dealing with us. He wouldn't outsource this, not even to his brother. I think it's precisely what it looks like—part of a job interview."

"Congratulations, I guess. But for the love of God, be careful. I don't like the thought of you there on your own."

I kissed him. To have someone other than Rufus care about me was strange, and I liked it. A lot.

He kissed me back, and then the clothes we'd been putting on started to come off again. Earlier, we'd piled up pillows on the bed to sit against. I wondered if that had been prescience, because they were positioned perfectly to muffle my gasps as Alex kissed his way down the length of my spine, alternating his kisses with little licks.

By the time he reached my arse, I was weak with pleasure, unable to do more than moan as he opened me up with his tongue. He teased me with fingers and mouth and tongue until I was begging, needing his cock more than I'd needed anything ever.

He pushed into me, so slowly that the anticipation was killing me. "God," he said, sounding wrecked. "Look at you, taking me so easily. You're beautiful."

And he kept talking. Even when he started fucking me, he told me how good I was, how gorgeous, how he loved doing this with me. He asked me to turn my head so he could see my face, and after that, everything became a blur as he thrust into me, over and over. I came so hard I thought I might have died.

Afterwards, he held me gently and kissed my forehead. I'd never known anything like how it had been with him. He'd wanted me, not just for my body or my talent at giving head, but for me.

I lay in his arms, and I felt treasured.