Chapter Twenty-three

NATE

Margaret herded everyone to a matinee at the theatre on Monday afternoon, leaving Alex and me alone in the house. I still didn't like the idea of searching Steven's room. James's study had felt like fair game, but Steven's bedroom was his private space.

Despite my aversion to the idea, Alex was right that it was a sensible move. As he disappeared into Steven's room, I hung over the bannister, listening for any movement.

Alex must have taken about half an hour, though it felt longer.

"Well?" I greeted him when he emerged.

"I looked everywhere, and the only thing I found was a stack of new business cards, hidden in the back of the wardrobe—Steven Fortescue, CEO Fortescue Bank. I can't work out if that deserves mockery or is actually rather sad."

I had the same dilemma. "I wonder how long he's had them."

"There was a box of papers, too. I felt bad about going through them once I realised what they were, but I skimmed them, just in case. They were things from his childhood—birthday cards, photos, that sort of thing. Oh, and a cycling proficiency badge."

I snorted. "Good to know he's qualified to handle a bicycle."

"None of it was of any use to us." Alex hesitated. "There was this one photo, though. He looked about five or six. I didn't know that even rich kids suffered from pudding-basin haircuts. Anyway, he's outside what must be the entrance to the Fortescues' bank, with the family name over the door, and he looks so happy, so proud. I wonder what happened to make him the jerk he is now."

"Don't make me feel sorry for him," I warned Alex. Too late. A tendril of sympathy was stirring. I wondered when Steven had found out that Charlie was going to take over the bank rather than its governance being a joint venture between all three children.

"Which one is Ella's room?" Alex asked, moving along the landing.

"What? No. You can't do that." For the first time, I was angry with Alex.

"Nate, I promise you, I'm not going to dig around in anything that looks personal, but there might be something there. She's central to James's plot, after all."

Damn it. He was right. He usually was. I gestured reluctantly to Ella's door.

With a serious look at me, assuring me of his good intentions, Alex slipped inside. I returned to the staircase to keep watch.

He was much quicker this time. When he emerged, he suggested we go for a walk, and I was relieved to leave the scene of the crime.

"She had nothing relating to what we want to know," Alex said, once we were safely out of the house. "But there was one interesting thing. I pulled out the bottom drawer of her desk to look in the space underneath, because that's where I used to hide the good stuff from my parents, and there was a piece of paper with a list of U.S. colleges. They had details of academic ranking and courses, but the way they were prioritised was by distance from Bath. The one furthest away was number one on the list." He glanced at me. "I think Ella's making escape plans."

She must be desperate if she was willing to leave her entire family. "She may know some of the American banking families, so she wouldn't be completely alone over there," I deduced.

"Or perhaps even being alone would be better than being forcibly married off to someone she hates."

"She doesn't hate you," I said. No one could hate Alex.

"Yeah, she does. I don't blame her, either."

We reached Sheila's coffee shop, only to find it was closed.

"What the hell? How dare she have a day off?" Alex asked, laughter bleeding through his mock outrage. I wanted to kiss him, so badly it hurt.

"Would this be a good time for that hotel room idea?" I suggested. "Room service doesn't have a day off."

"If it means I get to eat, I guess I could force myself to have sex with you," Alex said, and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "How far away is the hotel?"

Not far at all, thankfully.

ALEX

Over the following weeks, we managed to be together discreetly for at least part of each day. Nate was still spending time with Charlie, and had I not been part-human, that might have become a problem. As it was, I managed to talk my dragon down every time he became too possessive.

I didn't like the situation, but I knew Nate didn't care about Charlie like that anymore. I just wished I could be certain that he cared for me as much as I cared for him.

Nate and I had great sex, we laughed a lot, but he didn't tell me that I was important to him. And he rarely touched me non-sexually. I was the one who snuggled into him after sex. He always welcomed me, and occasionally he'd snuggle back, but I had to be the one to initiate it.

What stopped me from worrying too much was the way he made love to me. It was so much more than sex, and how he touched me and the expression in his eyes always laid my doubts to rest. Until they started up again.

"I'm going to have to give James an answer soon," Margaret cautioned me one day. "There's little more than a week left of our planned visit, so he's growing impatient."

Only a week? Somehow, the trap James was trying to spring for me and Ella seemed less important than the fact that in a few short days, I'd be heading home. Away from Nate. Our worlds were so different. It didn't feel like an insurmountable obstacle in Bath, where we were both out of our usual environments. What would happen when that changed, I didn't know.

And then, in the hotel room that we'd been booking more and more often, Nate got a message. He looked up from his phone, excitement on his face. "I've been invited to the Fortescue bank on Friday to meet the Board."

I didn't want him to go there alone. But what could I do? I couldn't exactly develop a sudden interest in banks and go with him. I didn't even know what Nate did, other than make piles of money for rich people.

"Be careful," I said.

He promised he would, but it wasn't enough. I rolled him over, anchoring him to the mattress with my weight. My move had been an instinctive attempt to keep him safe, but Nate didn't know that. He squirmed deliciously under me, derailing my thoughts from protection and onto something else entirely as I bent my head to kiss him.

Each time, the heat and intensity of Nate's kiss took me off-guard. He explored my mouth with such focus, such intent, it was as if each kiss was our first. Lost in him, I had just enough sense left to reach out and grab the lube from the bedside table where we'd left it earlier. Except I wasn't going to stop kissing Nate, not for anything, and so I ended up knocking the telephone onto the floor, and it took the lamp down with it, and then Nate was laughing too hard to kiss me any longer.

"Fuck," I said, and hung over the edge of the bed to recover the lube, which had ended up amid the carnage on the carpet.

His peal of laughter was the best thing I'd heard since the last time I'd heard him laugh, and as I realised that, I knew I was in deeper than I'd ever been before. His hand cupped my arse from my undignified position hanging half-off the bed, and then he dipped his fingers into my cleft. I shuddered with the promise of it, but much as I loved him fucking me, right now, I needed to be inside him. To know he was safe, he was mine, to claim him.

Whoa. That was a first. Was that a dragon thing? I'd never had another dragon as a lover before. Perhaps it was simply my response to the thought of Nate in danger.

I wriggled back fully onto the bed, triumphantly clutching the tube. As I slicked my fingers, his laughter died away, replaced by growing darkness in his eyes and uneven breathing as he watched me. I slipped my hand between his legs, finding the cleft of his arse and stroking over his hole. His lips parted, and as I teased him, he made little breathy sounds with each exhalation.

God, I loved how he sounded when I turned him on. I'd wanted to draw this out, but I needed this too badly. I pushed a finger inside him, and he moved restlessly, eagerly.

"I'm still stretched from before," he said, with a gravelly undertone that his voice only had when we were like this.

"Making an assumption there, aren't you?" I asked him, adding another finger to the first and starting to finger-fuck him in earnest. "I could do this all night. Maybe I'll just make you come on my fingers, over and over again."

A whine punched out of him and he arched up. I wasn't sure if it was my words or the way I'd crooked my fingers just then that was responsible, but either way, he was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen, so helpless under my touch.

Of course, for all my talk, I couldn't wait much longer. As I pushed into him, we were both groaning. Funny thing—it turned out that having such a vocal lover made me louder, too. As if it gave me permission. Or, perhaps, knowing how much it turned me on to hear him, I wanted to give him that in return.

We were both making sounds with every thrust, getting faster and faster until all I could see was Nate, his head tipped back, veins standing out in his neck as he cried out my name and came. I wasn't far behind him, not with the way he was so hot and tight around my cock, and my orgasm slammed into me with such force that everything went white for an instant.

Afterwards, we lay together, and I remembered how this had started. His news about Bristol and the bank. I held onto him and didn't want to let him go. Out of nowhere, I was scared.