Dragon Heartstring (7 page)

* * *

I
couldn’t believe it
. Stern, grave, all-business Demetrius Cade was showing affection in a public place. My first instinct was to pull away, but my traitorous heart hammered hard, and to my surprise, I liked the weight of his warm hand on my back. I liked it too much.

He dropped his hand when we entered the elevator. My dragon growled in protest. I kept my gaze steady and straight, my pulse thrumming at his light touch from a moment before. When the elevator door opened and we exited, he pulled me to a stop facing him, both hands cupped around my bare shoulders. The hallway leading to the second floor gallery was empty. We were completely alone in the alcove. I stared up at him and waited. His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together. My dragon senses honed in on every line of his tense expression—the way his brow creased then smoothed, the tightening of his lips—as if he fought some inner battle. When his dark eyes landed on mine after perusing my face for what felt like an eternity, I knew he’d come to a conclusion about something. But I certainly hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth next.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Shakara.”

“What?”

My heart plummeted right into the pit of my stomach. My wings tightened to my back, an instinctive response when I was surprised or scared. Right now, I was both. I couldn’t say a word as he slid his long fingers around my nape and pressed his palm to my jaw. His fingertips curled and tightened when he leaned forward. As if I would try to get away. I thought about it as his mouth lowered to mine. I should be resisting. I should be protesting.

“Demetrius, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

When he pressed his lips to mine, so gently, barely there, adrenaline shot through my body. I gasped at the sudden energy charging the air. He pulled back, capturing my gaze with those dark eyes, most definitely seeing the dragon in mine.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “Because I don’t think you do.”

“I—I—”

“That’s what I thought.” In a swift, aggressive move I didn’t expect, he angled his mouth over mine and went deeper, gliding his tongue inside for a nice, long taste. I clutched his biceps, holding on for dear life, because my mind spun with the sudden jolt of adrenaline. I melted against his chest and torso, my dragon longing to claw off his expensive suit and feel him skin on skin.

A little moan escaped me as he nipped my bottom lip then pulled away. Still breathless, I let go of him and touched my fingers to my mouth. “Where did that come from?”

His expression remained grave, a pinch between his brows, as if we’d been discussing some tragic event on the news. “I don’t know. I just had to.” For a moment, I thought he would kiss me again, and heaven help me, I wanted him to. But he stood straight and asked, “Shall we go see the auction?”

“Okay.” Though my brain was far away and foggy as hell, I managed to sound coherent and not as addled as I was. And somehow a little angry. At myself, not him. I wasn’t the kind of girl to swoon over a sexy man. That was never enough to entice me. And yet, something about Demetrius made me lose my wits, even when I still worried about his hang-ups with Morgonkind.

There were a few people perusing the tables set out for the silent auction, but most of the crowd was downstairs enjoying the band. Holding hands like it was normal, we walked along the table.

“I’d like to bid on something,” he said. “Tell me when you see something you like.”

This man continued to surprise me. There were a few pieces of artwork donated by Flaming Hearts Art Gallery, owned by the Nightwings. I expected that with Jessen in charge of this fundraiser. There was a dinner for two at Dorchester Steakhouse. Demetrius looked at me and raised his brow. I shrugged and shook my head. We walked down the line, passing designer crystal, four tickets to a Vaengar game in the exclusive box seating of the stadium, and an all-day spa treatment.

Demetrius paused at the spa day. I shook my head. We came to the end of the table, and I pulled him up short.

Pointing, I said, “That one.”

He arched a brow at me then read, “A three-day getaway for two in the luxurious White Sand Villas of Sorrel Sea. This is the one you want?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

He took a slip of paper, scrawled a number I couldn’t see, and then folded it and placed it in the box.

“You shall have it,” he said.

“Not if someone outbids you.”

He chuckled. “No one will outbid me.”

“Confident, are you?”

“When it comes to business dealings, yes, I am.”

“And what do you mean ‘I’ shall have it? It will be your winnings, not mine.”

“Think of it as a gift.”

“A gift?”

He dipped his dimpled chin lower with a stiff nod.

“And I could bring anyone I wanted?”

“Of course.” He edged closer. “I could make a suggestion if you’d like.”

Rather than answer, I slipped a hand through the crook of his arm and pulled him toward the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”

This playful idea of the two of us in a villa in paradise for a few days had my blood rising at an alarming rate. This was escalating fast, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Part of me still thought of him as the arrogant director of Cade Enterprises who tended to keep Morgons at a distance. The other part saw Demetrius for what he truly was—sexy as sin. I’d always been the kind of girl to do what was right. The good girl. But Demetrius stirred in me a desire to do very bad things. And if I was honest with myself, my old notion of him was melting away by the second.

We strolled to the bar with a blue backlit mirror. I watched his reflection as he ordered. The man truly was quite beautiful. He never once glanced at his own reflection. Rare in single men I’d encountered these days. They were always checking themselves out—their hair, their clothes, the way their shirts bunched at their biceps. Not this man. He knew everything was right as it should be. There was no need to look at himself a hundred times to be sure. Or he didn’t care. Somehow, that made me want him more.

He dropped a bill on the bar then handed me the glass of wine.

“You’re not drinking?” I asked.

“I’ve already had a few, and I believe it’s dulled my inhibitions enough already.”

He glanced at my lips. The kiss.

“Ah. I see.”

The band cranked it up a notch. Demetrius scowled at the stage.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“What?” he asked, leaning down.

I shouted closer to his ear. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

He nodded. We wove back to the elevator, passing another couple who had stepped out. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

I pressed the button for the top floor and gave him a smile. When we reached the top, the elevator dinged. I linked my arm through his again. “Come and see.”

We stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, which was open beyond the elevator and the aerial entrance for Morgon patrons. There were two Morgon bouncers working the roof, making sure no one crashed the private party. One of them stared as we walked by, my arm linked with a human man. Ignoring him, I led Demetrius out to walk the wrap-around balcony.

There were already a few couples taking advantage of the private rooftop. We stopped at the corner and looked out over downtown Gladium. Glittering like stars, the city lights lit up the night.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I asked, leaning on the railing, the warm summer breeze lifting my hair.

“Yes. Quite.”

I glanced over to find him staring at me, not the city. I smiled. “Do you know it’s rude to stare like that?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You are quite beautiful,” he said with sincerity.

I arched a brow. “Even with the wings?”

“Especially with the wings.” His gaze flicked to them. “You know, Shakara. You seem to have a misguided notion that I dislike Morgons, but the truth is far from it.”

“Well, if I may be so frank, your past proves you’ve had—I don’t know how to say it—
issues
with Morgonkind.”

His heavy gaze never left me. “Some of us learn from our past mistakes. And we change. At least we should anyway.”

His intense expression and bold statement were a challenge. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to explore. The conversation had turned from casual to serious in a heartbeat. And I realized in this, he was right and I was wrong. We should learn from our mistakes.

Changing the subject was my only escape. “So. What were you talking to Lucius about?”

He loosened his tie and pulled it off, folded it end over end then stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket. “You were watching me?”

“Yes.”

“So you lied,” he said, leaning forward with both forearms on the balcony wall, his left arm brushing mine.

“Did I?” I focused on steadying my voice.

“You said you didn’t know I was here at the party when I walked up to your table.”

“Oh, yes. I did lie.” I felt him staring but continued to gaze out at the city. “I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something.”

He laughed, leaning left, his shoulder grazing mine. On purpose, for sure.

My senses amped up. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, tell me. I want to know what Demetrius Cade, who never speaks to his brother-in-law even at his nephew’s birthday party, could possibly have to say in a little one-on-one conversation.”

“You
have
been stalking me.” He smirked and pressed closer.

I arched a brow at him and whispered, “Tell me.”

“It was about you actually.”

“Me?”

“The hearing coming up.”

“Oh.” The wind lifted my hair in the night air. I tucked a strand behind one ear. “What about it?”

“As I mentioned at lunch yesterday, I’m afraid this hearing may bring some negative attention your way. Perhaps, even danger.” His frown was back. His lips tightened into a line as he studied me.

“I think you might be worrying too much.”

“No, I’m not. Which is why you might notice someone from Nightwing Security watching out for you at the clinic. And maybe elsewhere.”

“Wait. I’m going to have a bodyguard?”

“Yes. And don’t say you don’t want one. It’s necessary to be cautious about this. At least until the hearing is over.”

I couldn’t help but be a little surprised that Demetrius of all people would take the initiative to protect me. My father and aunt were bringing up clan members for the hearing itself, but they hadn’t prepared for any threats beforehand.

Before Demetrius’s scowl could deepen further, I made a bold declaration. “So what you’re saying is you’re worried about me.”

Just like that, his stiff shoulders rolled forward as if a weight had been dropped. He angled his body toward me, leaning one elbow on the banister and answered my teasing question more directly than I’d anticipated. “Yes. I certainly am.”

My nerves rattled inside me like marbles in a jar. It was all because of Demetrius. I was fine with him in crowds and loud clubs and chatty birthday parties. But alone with the heady mix of his cologne and his masculine scent swirling around me and with those dark eyes tracking my every move, my dragon wanted to stretch out for him and purr. The woman, the part of me who was confident in the clinic but shy in the bedroom, wanted to retreat and hide. As soon as I’d thought it, my wings twitched, brushing against him.

I gasped and pulled them tight again, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The air shifted, and I felt like I did that day in the elevator—breathless and trapped and extremely aroused at his nearness.

“Shakara,” he said softly.

“Yes?”

“May I take a closer look at your wings?”

“Yes.”

I turned for him, inhaling a deep breath, and opened them partway, keeping one hand on the banister.

“May I touch them?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

I didn’t want to tell him how sensitive I was to touch on my wings. Some Morgons weren’t at all. But when Demetrius’s hands slid up the arches, sending a sensual shiver through my body, I thought I might come undone. When his fingers caressed along the side edge and back down, I gripped the banister tight.

“They’re quite beautiful,” he said. He had to notice my tremulous state. But he made no note of it.

“Thank you.”

“
You’re
quite beautiful.”

When he moved his body closer, I could feel the heat of him at my back. He trailed his fingers along the underside of my wings where they were especially soft. He nuzzled his mouth close to my ear. “I want to touch you.”

Needing to hold onto something, I gripped the banister with both hands. I couldn’t breathe. I shouldn’t be behaving this way with him of all men. I felt as if I were stepping into enemy territory, venturing into places I wasn’t meant to go. And yet, he turned me on beyond reason.

“May I?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered, unable to resist him.

He swept my hair over one shoulder then proceeded to kiss his way up one side of my neck. One hand spanned my waist. He glided the other hand over the curve of my shoulder and down my arm, then laced his fingers through mine atop the banister. Yearning for his lips on my skin, I dropped my head back so he could have better access. He took full advantage, brushing feather-light kisses down the column of my throat.

“You know, there are many who would object to this kind of behavior.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to that tender spot between my neck and shoulder.

“What, what kind of behavior? There are others doing the same in their own corner of the rooftop.”

“No, couples like us.”

“You mean a Morgon and a human?” I asked, trying not to sound as breathless as I was.

“Yes.” He nipped up my neck with teeth. The sensation flushed me with heat.

“Do you care if people object?”

He stopped and turned me around by the waist.

“Does it bother you?” I repeated.

His voice dropped lower with an edge of strain. “I don’t know.” His fingers banded tighter at my waist. “But not enough for me to stop.”

Before I could form another thought, his lips were hard and determined on mine. The world be damned, for there could be no misunderstanding what he wanted now.