18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Maeve

“ B y the way,” he muttered once we’d shaken off most of the patrons and fought our way over to the buffet, holding out a glass of wine to me, “I love seeing you wear the smile I gave you.”

Goosebumps spread down my spine as his warm breath brushed against the tiny hairs on my neck.

The food they served was as great as the one Tiff, Vaughn, and I had been enjoying all week, but I had to say, I had enjoyed it even more, sharing it just with my best friends and Taran while watching Ash Soul .

“How did you like the French salad?” Taran asked me between two delicate forkfuls.

“That was one of my favourite dishes of all the ones you got,” I told him honestly. I’d give my firstborn away for it . I amused myself for a moment with the thought of calling a child ‘Waldorf salad’ after the thing I craved most.

With a cheeky grin, he picked up the last bite with his fork and offered it to me, growling quietly when I made an effort to wrap my lips around it as if it was a dick I was dying to suck.

“Two can play the teasing game, Scales.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and we kept inhaling our dinner like two starving people, though we were really only eager to get out of here soon.

“Oh, I like this song!” I suddenly blurted, partly to break the awkward silence but also because my brain was wired like that.

He contemplated me for a moment, then put his plate down. “I had a private dance teacher who tortured me for over a year. It would be a shame never to use those skills. May I have this dance?”

I took the offered hand and Taran led me out on the dance floor, resting his other palm halfway up my back to establish our position.

I was glad I hadn’t skipped the dancing lessons in high school, and that Taran made it exceptionally easy to follow his lead.

Being so close to him felt wonderful, his powerful body moving gracefully across the dance floor.

We didn’t stay on the dance floor for just one song. Soon, both of us were brimming with energy and our eyes seemed determined to never let the other go .

When a slow song came on, he pulled me closer to his chest and lowered his mouth to my ear.

“Will you come back to the castle with me later?” he asked in a barely audible voice.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” I murmured back, kissing his cheek and enjoying the shiver that travelled the length of his body at my touch.

“I always thought I was someone with great self-control,” he said after a while.

“But?”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I’m trying to convince myself not to shift and carry you back to my lair.”

Oh God.

“How very archaic of you,” I groaned softly as goosebumps raced down my back at the mental image of seeing his true form. Unfortunately, they also reminded me of yet another mosquito bite I had. So far, neither Tiff nor I had been able to spot any critters in my room, though. I hope it’s not bedbugs. “I’d love to fly with you one day, though,” I told him, to get my mind off the itchy spot on my back.

“You’re not making it any easier, sweetling. Come on, let’s have another drink. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Taran!” a loud voice from behind us called. We turned to face a tall blue Demon accompanied by one of the most attractive men I had ever seen. His silky black hair framed chiselled cheekbones, and he wore a smile fit for a sexy Father Christmas.

“Samuel.” Taran extended his free hand to the Demon, then to his companion. “Perky, how lovely to meet you.” Perky? Had I misheard that ?

“Maeve, these are Samuel Carson and his husband, Perky. Samuel is the CEO of Frostfire, my family’s real estate agency.”

“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you two.”

“And you, Miss Maeve,” Carson replied genially. Perky stepped closer to brush a friendly kiss over my cheek.

“It’s really good to meet you, Maeve. I never thought I’d see Taran this happy.” He patted my arm, and we stood by as our two dates made some polite conversation.

Taran seemed a little cautious around Samuel, but then again, he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.

Eventually, the Demon insisted on introducing him to the mayor, Eloise Gillam, a round-faced woman I had only ever seen in print or online.

Watching Taran suffer through twenty-minute-long speeches by Samuel Carson and Eloise Gillam was actually pretty fun, because he turned to me for comfort. His left hand fiddled with mine, while the other kept a firm hold on my hip, pressing me into his body.

The mayor thanked him for saving the cafe, and told him that Harry Reynolds had gotten in touch with her and expressed how happy he was. I couldn’t imagine my former boss doing anything remotely like this, but decided to keep my mouth shut.

They moved on and Taran turned to me, voice low. “From what Samuel told me about meeting your former boss, that’s highly unlikely. How about we get out of here when they start clapping and flipping out over how rich they all are? I think I’ve had enough of this.”

“Great idea, Scales. ”

When the applause began, Taran used it to lead me out onto the massive balcony. The land dipped down a little and gave us a fantastic view of Kirkmuir sprawling out before us. It looked gorgeous.

“Could you do me a favour and put the car keys and my phone into your purse?”

I abandoned the view to accept Taran’s belongings and stowed them in my little handbag without really questioning why he had asked me in the first place.

Then he closed the distance between us and hitched me up in his arms.

“What are you doing, Scales?”

“I usually don’t buy clothes for just one occasion, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Desperate times?” I asked, my brain slowly catching on.

“Desperate,” he snarled, slamming his lips on mine in a bruising kiss before he got on the balustrade in one easy step and jumped.

No scream escaped me as my stomach dropped like it did on a rollercoaster. There was one thing I was sure of: Taran would keep me safe. The sound of ripping fabric was barely audible over the rush of the air past my ears as the huge Dragon shed his humanoid body like a butterfly its long-too-small cocoon. Huge wings unfurled on either side of us, and we tumbled in mid-air for a moment until he caught himself.

We sped over land, the wind rushing past us and moonlight glittering on his black scales. He was stunning, huge, with massive, curling horns. At the base they were as thick as my upper arm, and they had the same gold rings, magically expanded, I thought, stretching around them .

The smooth mirror-like surface of a loch rippled as we crossed it, and after what felt like no time, he landed on a balcony much like the one we’d left behind in Kirkmuir.