Fire Maidens: Paris

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Fire Maidens: Paris Page 18

by Anna Lowe


  He held his breath. Did that scare her?

  Maybe she read his mind, because she shook her head and whispered, “I think you’ve proven yourself trustworthy. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

  He smiled, relieved. “Nowadays, we call them bodyguards.”

  “No, you’re definitely knight quality,” she assured him with a smile. Then she went somber again, and her eyes slid away from his. “So, last night, you conquered another dragon, and then you conquered some woman?”

  He shook his head immediately. “You’re not some woman. One particular one.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she conquered me.”

  Natalie’s grin stretched, and he went on.

  “A special woman.”

  She flashed a wistful smile. “Special, huh?”

  He hesitated, because he’d seen her reaction to Marcel’s proposal. But he had to say it.

  “You’re my mate, Natalie. My destiny. You’re the one.”

  She went still but didn’t bolt. Her hand remained on his chest, her legs still snuggled along his. “The one you recognized at first sight?”

  His heart thumped wildly, and his dragon lashed its tail. Yes! Yes!

  He nodded quietly, trying not to hope too hard.

  She crooked an eyebrow. “The one you want to bear you lots of offspring?”

  He grimaced at the echo of Marcel’s words. “The woman I want to love. To honor. To protect. The one I’ve been burning to touch for so long.”

  He held his breath, hoping that extra glow in her eyes wasn’t just a reflection of his.

  She nodded slowly. “Something you felt the first time we touched, and every morning, noon, and night ever since we met?”

  His pulse skipped. So it wasn’t just him. She felt it too.

  “All my life, I’ve been waiting for you. I just didn’t know it until now.”

  Natalie’s chest rose in a deep sigh, and then she stuck a finger at his chest. “You promise this has nothing to do with power?”

  “If I wanted power, I wouldn’t be working for Alaric. All I know is I want you. I need you.”

  She nodded as if she felt exactly the same. “Destiny…”

  Her eyes met his, and he nodded. I felt that lightning bolt too.

  Then she faked a frown. “Wait. Do I blame destiny for the fact that I heat up every time I see you?”

  He grinned. “Must be.”

  Her hands slid farther down his rear, kneading as they went. “And it’s all destiny’s fault that I want you again right now?”

  He nodded gravely.

  “Hmm,” she mumbled, sweeping her tongue over his lips. “I guess we shouldn’t mess with that.”

  “Definitely don’t want to mess with that.” He rolled, coming over her.

  For a few breathless minutes, they lay there, kissing, touching, exploring. Tristan kept reaching for a condom, then stopping, because he just couldn’t let her go. Natalie made greedy little kitten sounds, driving him wild. When he finally broke away, lunging for the side table, she reared up with a wicked grin.

  “What do dragons think about doggy style?” She rolled to all fours, glancing back at him.

  His eyes already felt hot as coals, but the sight of her perfect rear made them burn harder.

  “Let me show you,” he rumbled, fumbling with the condom. In truth, he was dying to skip that step and enter her skin-on-skin.

  Someday, his dragon promised as he rolled on the condom.

  Someday, he agreed, kneeling behind her.

  Slowing down long enough to kiss her shoulder, he snuggled up, running his hands over the perfect curve of her ass. Then he reached around, kneading a breast with one hand while tracing her folds with the other.

  “Oh…” she breathed, swaying under him.

  His cock ached in anticipation, but he held out, savoring the sweet scent of her arousal. Savoring everything about the moment, in fact. The trust. The raw need.

  He dipped his fingers deeper, anticipating the rush of burying himself in that sweet heaven. The kisses he rained along her neck turned to nips, and it was hard not to imagine a mating bite.

  “Tristan,” Natalie murmured, bumping back against him.

  He held her hips, ready to give her what she wanted. He only paused long enough to finger-comb her hair away from her back and off to one side. That view was better than anything in Paris, London, and Rome combined, and there was no way he was going to miss it.

  “Tristan,” Natalie groaned.

  Her cry went right to his cock, and his dragon roared inside. Then he pushed in, making Natalie cry out. His mind exploded with a thousand floodlights, and thinking became impossible. Only doing. Moving. Satisfying the burning need to connect.

  Again and again, he thrust forward. The faster he moved, the more Natalie pushed back against him. Her head was on the pillow, her rear high in the air, and the sounds of their lovemaking drove his dragon wild. A bead of sweat dropped from his forehead to her back. He gritted his teeth, giving her everything he had.

  “Oh!” Natalie hit a high note and clamped down around him, making him explode.

  Every muscle clenched. A flood of pleasure flowed through his body, and his cock pulsed. It was ecstasy — pure ecstasy, like nothing he’d ever felt.

  Mate, his dragon said with sheer certainty.

  This was no accident. It was not a mistake. It was destiny, telling him where he belonged.

  Slowly, he slumped, delirious with pleasure. Moments later, he stumbled away, disposed of the condom, and hurried back. Then he stretched out, pulling Natalie against his chest. Panting and cooing, she clung to him.

  “Destiny,” she whispered into the dark.

  Tristan closed his eyes. Fire Maiden or not, she was his. Let any fool try to get between him and true love.

  His dragon huffed. Let them try.

  Natalie’s soothing touch brought him back to the dreamy cocoon of the bed, and he slowly settled down. Dawn was only a few hours away, and when it broke, he’d give anyone who protested a piece of his mind. But right now…

  He caressed Natalie’s shoulder and breathed softly into the night. “Destiny, my mate.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Natalie woke slowly, having slept like a log — or as the French said, comme une marmotte — like a marmot. That fit, considering how she’d burrowed under the sheets and cuddled against Tristan, where she would have been happy to hibernate for the next few months. The man was all muscle, yet she fit perfectly into the curve of his chest. And the way he kept his arms looped around her…

  She sighed. Heaven.

  Opening her eyes reinforced the impression. Light streamed through the windows in bold streaks of gold, and outside, a chorus of birds sang.

  She flexed her fingers around Tristan’s, thinking about everything they’d done. She’d never had anything but plain, predictable, missionary-style sex. Now, in a single night… She puffed a breath of air over her face, trying to cool off. It was uncanny, how her body and Tristan’s communicated. When one of them moved, the other always knew exactly what to do, like they’d been born for each other.

  Destiny. Could it really be true? She’d heard of soul mates, but shifter mates seemed to go beyond that. When she’d first encountered the word in one of Alaric’s books, it sounded crude and possessive. But now, snuggled in Tristan’s arms…

  “Mate,” she whispered, trying it out for herself.

  He was hers as much as she was his. She could feel it deep in her bones. She’d even sensed it before Tristan had entered the soup kitchen that first night. Her world had shaken in its own little earthquake, as if some force had taken her by the shoulders and said, Brace yourself. This is it.

  Destiny?

  Then she frowned. Could it just be hormones, making fantasies all too easy to believe?

  Tristan rubbed his thumb over hers, and she broke into a huge smile. If it was hormones, then fine. The man could keep stirring them as far as sh
e was concerned.

  When she rolled in his arms and murmured, “Good morning,” he lit up.

  “Bonjour,” he rumbled, keeping her nice and snug.

  A minute passed before their lips met, but it was almost as if they’d been kissing the whole time. Kissing in the way their eyes lingered on each other or in each soft caress. And when their lips actually touched…

  Natalie closed her eyes, savoring his oaky taste. Was it all real, or was it a dream?

  Then Tristan’s phone chimed, and they both groaned. Tristan stuck an arm over his eyes as the phone rang and rang.

  She nudged him. “Are you going to answer that?”

  “No,” he declared. Then his face clouded, and his eyes drifted to the phone.

  “I don’t mind,” Natalie fibbed.

  She would rather have tossed the device out the window, but she knew how it was. That might be Alaric, and duty was duty.

  Tristan rolled, grabbed it, and barked a very French, “Allô?”

  When he stiffened and sat up, Natalie did, too. Who was on the line?

  “When? Where?” Tristan barked. “Now?”

  Natalie waited, wondering what was wrong.

  “All right. Tell him I’m on my way.” Tristan sighed then threw down the phone.

  “Trouble?”

  He snorted. “That was Jacqueline, so, yes. Trouble.” He looked pained. “Alaric wants me to report, tout de suite.”

  She stroked his arm. She hated to let him go, but orders were orders in the shifter and human world.

  Tristan eased his legs over the side of the bed, shaking his head. Then he turned and kissed her — a long, lingering kiss full of fire, longing, and regret.

  “Merde. I hate to go,” he murmured barely an inch from her lips.

  She hugged him tightly. “For the last few days, I felt so cooped up. Now I’d give anything to be cooped up with you.”

  Her body heated at the thought, and Tristan’s eyes sparkled. “Can I take a rain check?”

  She grinned, nodding a mile a minute.

  He kissed her one more time then sighed. “Somehow, we’ll figure this out. But I’d better get over to Pigalle before I get chewed out.” Then he made a face. “Well, I’ll definitely get my ass chewed out.”

  “For what?”

  “Breaking orders.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Orders?”

  “Alaric made it perfectly clear I wasn’t supposed to touch you.”

  A wave of anger swept through her. “How about I march over and tell him I wanted to be touched?”

  Tristan smiled. “That, I’d love to see.” Then he sobered. “But it doesn’t work that way. Not with shifters. When the alpha gives an order, you follow.”

  “Maybe I’m not good at taking orders.”

  “Neither am I.” His lips quirked into a brief smile. “But, like Hugo once said, I need to…to…” He motioned vaguely, then went on, mimicking the wolf shifter’s deep voice. “‘Force isn’t always the way. Try finesse.’” Tristan frowned. “I think Clara taught him that. But I’m not sure I have finesse in me.”

  Natalie laughed. “You never know.”

  He cracked a tiny smile then stood.

  She steeled herself to say goodbye, but then a cold draft reached her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood.

  Tristan turned immediately. “What is it?”

  She tried shaking it off, but the chill persisted. “Nothing. Sorry.” She forced herself to laugh. “Just the thought of you leaving makes me worry about vampires.”

  Tristan pulled her closer, armoring the space around her with his body. “They wouldn’t dare. I won’t let them. Besides, you know what to do.”

  She snorted. That move he’d taught her? “Sure. One, two, three.” Her voice was surly, but her arms twitched with the sequence Tristan had taught her. Arms snapping up, elbow jab, then a blow to the nose. When she didn’t overthink it, her body knew what to do. But when she consciously imagined herself fending off a vampire, it seemed hopeless.

  Reluctantly, Tristan released her. “Anyway, Liam will be keeping an eye on the place, and the doorman, too.”

  She knew he was right, but still. She hated to see him go. “Maybe I should come with you.”

  Tristan sat beside her. “Think about it. Alaric will be furious, and Marcel is likely to be there. Marcel and whoever else Alaric has lined up for you to choose from.”

  His voice was bitter, so she hugged him. “I already know who I want.”

  He cupped her cheek. “I know who I want, too.”

  For a moment, they stayed close, speaking volumes without uttering a word. But eventually, Tristan pulled back.

  “You’ll have to talk to them at some point. But I know they’re going to chew me out. They might even fire me or banish me from the city.” His eyes roamed the room once. Then he shrugged, like none of that mattered, though sorrow filled his eyes.

  I can lose this apartment, his expression said. I can lose my job. I can lose living in Paris, but none of that would hurt as much as losing you.

  She took his hands and squeezed tightly. “If they want me as their Fire Maiden, they’ll have to listen to me, won’t they?”

  He smiled weakly. “If only it were that easy.”

  The longer they held each other, the more a warm cloak filled the space around them. Natalie bowed her head, tuning in to the sensation. “Is that part of being mates?”

  “Is what?”

  She motioned around. “That energy. That heat. The way the world zooms out of focus when I’m around you.”

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  “So, if destiny wants us together, we’ll be okay, right?”

  The pause before his reply worried her. “Destiny has a way of throwing obstacles in a person’s path. But, yes. We’ll be okay.”

  Natalie forced her hands not to tremble. Tristan sounded more determined than convinced.

  “Anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “I’d rather you didn’t witness me getting reprimanded. You know, to keep my dignity and all.”

  She laughed, running her hands over his steely shoulders. “Your dignity, my ass.”

  He grinned and dropped his hands to her rear. “You mean this?”

  “No, this.” She smacked his rear.

  For a moment, they smiled, and it felt good, even if she knew there was trouble ahead. But eventually…

  She forced herself not to follow Tristan around like a smitten puppy as he prepared to go. While he showered, she dressed. Then she brewed a couple of strong coffees and held Bijou, pensively stroking his fur.

  “Little beast,” Tristan muttered when he ducked to kiss Natalie goodbye.

  Bijou jumped away, and Natalie looped her arms around her man. “His loss. My gain.”

  She kissed him, wondering if that was how damsels once felt when their knights departed for battle. Then she straightened her shoulders. She was no damsel, and when the time came to face Alaric, she’d give the old dragon a piece of her mind.

  She hugged Tristan one more time, then all but pushed him to the door to get it over with. “See you soon.”

  Tristan nodded. “See you soon. Stay safe.”

  “You too,” she whispered.

  The door clicked shut, and she turned all three locks. Then she stood, staring at the door as silent minutes ticked by.

  “Tristan,” she whispered, aching all over.

  The more time they spent together, the more he felt like part of her. A lot like Paris, in a way. She turned and looked out the windows, hugging herself. When Bijou wound around her ankles, she picked him up.

  “Why can’t you and Tristan get along?” she scolded.

  Bijou put on a miserable look that said, Because he’s so mean.

  Natalie nuzzled him. “Tristan is not mean. He’s sweet. Kind. Considerate.”

  The fact that Bijou kept nuzzling probably meant he wasn’t paying attention, but Natalie continued anyway.

  “Tristan c
ares. He’s honorable. He does the right thing — or, he tries to.” She smiled. Tristan might not always get things right, but he did try.

  Bijou wiggled out of her arms and jumped to the floor, then meowed and led the way to the kitchen.

  “You already ate.”

  Bijou sauntered on, and Natalie laughed, following him. “I wish I could get away with eating every time I thought of it.”

  She picked out a packet of beef flavor — Bijou’s favorite — and scooped it carefully into the dish while the cat studied her every move. The moment Natalie stepped aside, Bijou rushed in as if some no-good dragon had left him to starve for days. But a moment later, he tensed and whirled, ready to flee at a noise at the door.

  Natalie nearly laughed. Maybe Tristan was returning sooner than she’d hoped. That would be nice.

  Then a cold finger of air sliced into the room, and she tensed. Bijou rushed for the rooftop. Outside, birds stopped singing, and Natalie stood still, her heart thumping away.

  What? What was going on?

  The feeling was so eerie, she backed away at the footsteps approaching the front door rather than rushing forward in anticipation of seeing Tristan again.

  Not Tristan, the hairs on the back of her neck said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A knock sounded.

  Natalie slowly put the spoon in the sink, afraid to make a sound.

  “Il y a quelqu’un?” a woman called through the door. Anybody there?

  Natalie gripped the edge of the counter. Jacqueline?

  Still, Natalie didn’t move. Jacqueline was the last person she wanted to see. Plus, there was that icy sensation in the air. A warning that zipped through every on-edge nerve in her body.

  She shivered. Vampire?

  “Hello?” Jacqueline demanded in English.

  Natalie held perfectly still. Maybe Jacqueline would go away if she thought no one was there.

  The doorknob rattled, and Natalie nearly jumped. Jacqueline wasn’t just checking if the door was open. She was testing its strength.

  “We know you’re in there, little human. Let us in,” another voice called.

  Natalie froze. Was that Olivier? But, wait. Why would Jacqueline be with a rogue vampire? And why had the doorman let them in? God, where was Liam?

 

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