by Zoe Chant
“I already told you I don’t like that word,” Raluca snapped.
Nick folded his arms across his chest. “Well, you better get used to it, because that’s how I talk and I am sticking to you like fu — like glue.”
Since Nick had at least made an attempt, Raluca tried to moderate her tone. Nobody liked being scolded. “Also, I will not only be going to nightclubs. If you speak like that at a diplomatic function, it will draw unwanted attention.”
“I have to protect you at diplomatic functions?” Nick sounded horrified. “Hal never gives me those sorts of jobs.”
Hal looked at Nick, then at Raluca. The amusement he’d shown when she’d first inquired about Nick returned to his face. “There’s a first time for everything. Raluca, if Nick’s willing and you want him, he’s yours.”
Once again, the words that came out of her mouth were the opposite of what she’d intended to say. “Yes. He’s mine.”
“Yeah, of course I fucking want to protect her,” Nick said immediately, then looked perplexed, as if he too had spoken against his own will. “Well — I guess Rafa or Shane can coach me on the diplomat stuff.”
“Then we’re all squared away.” Hal stood up. “I have to get back to work. Raluca, please tell him everything you told me. You can leave your hoard in one of our lockers. In Lucas’s, if you like. Protection, Inc. is as secure as it gets. Nick, she needs a place to stay and something to wear. The pack’s her hoard — she doesn’t have any luggage. Take her to the locker room and get her one of Fiona’s workout outfits, so she doesn’t have to walk around in her nightgown. And then I’d start by taking her clothes shopping.”
Chapter Two
Nick
Mine, growled Nick’s wolf again. And once again, he spoke with a possessive tone that Nick had never heard before.
Nick was never at a loss for words. But he found himself standing in baffled, angry, and incredibly turned-on silence as Hal scooped up a stack of papers, walked out of the lobby, and closed the door with a very final-sounding click.
You are out of your fucking mind, Nick told his wolf. That woman is a fucking princess. You couldn’t pick a worse match if you tried. And also, did it escape your notice that she fucking hates me?
Nick was used to fighting with his wolf. Ever since he’d left his gang and joined the good guys, half his energy had been spent on restraining that snarling voice within him that urged him to kill, to abandon himself to sheer animal rage, to act on instinct and not hold back.
But this time, Nick’s wolf spoke with uncharacteristic smugness. She’s your mate. She’s crazy about you. She wants to throw you up against the wall and fuck you here and now.
Nick shook his head. Buddy, you are out of your goddamn mind. That woman can’t even stand to hear the word fuck. If she’s ever had sex with anyone, which I really doubt, it was with a prince on some giant fancy bed, and they did it in the dark. With their eyes shut. And she just lay there. Bored.
Maybe, his wolf allowed. But she wouldn’t be bored if it was you.
Nick’s memory flashed back to the sight of Raluca’s nipples hardening, pushing that silky fabric into sharp points. Oh, sure, it was only because she was under-dressed and cold — he’d overheard enough conversations about weather-related nipple hard-ons between Fiona and Destiny to know how that worked — but it had still been almost unbearably sexy to see.
Raluca was still standing with her arms folded over her breasts, hiding them, but she couldn’t erase his memory. That sheer fabric had outlined every delicious curve. They were small but luscious, like a pair of ripe peaches; he’d be able to close his hands over them and touch every last bit of her skin. Their shape was burned into his mind, all the way down to the size of her nipples. The only thing he didn’t know was their color. Would they be the same ivory as her face, or even paler? Would her nipples be rose-pink, or peach-colored, or brown? And would the intricate swirls of her glittering silver dragonmarks extend past her shoulder and over her chest, to curl around her nipples like silver chains...?
His cock swelled even more at that image. He squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get a little more room in his jeans. They were stretched so tight, they felt like they might tear. And he was so hard and cramped that it actually hurt. He had to stop thinking about that woman.
It would be easier once she got out of that fucking bra-less nightgown.
“Come on,” Nick said. “I’ll take you to the locker room.”
Raluca walked beside him, stepping delicately as a ballerina, her bare feet soundless. Her ridiculously fancy backpack, however, clinked with every step. If it contained her hoard, it was full of gold and gems. In other words, metal and rocks. It must weigh sixty pounds at the absolute minimum. He thought of offering to carry it, but she walked easily, her slim frame upright and her shoulders showing no sign of strain.
She looked so delicate, like a piece of china that would shatter at his rough touch, but it was an illusion: she had shifter strength. If she ever cut loose, which obviously she never did, but if, she might ride a man so hard, she’d break the bed.
Fucking stop it, Nick told himself. He already had the world’s worst case of blue balls. The last thing he needed was the image of Raluca straddling him.
The image stayed with him, getting more vivid by the second. Her head thrown back in ecstasy, her long silver hair brushing against his thighs, his cock buried in her wet heat.
Nick clenched his jaw and shoved that vision out of his head, but it was too late. His whole body felt on fire, his balls actually hurt, and he was in serious danger of coming in his jeans without even being touched. Hal and Lucas and Shane were all fucking assholes, going on and on (or, in Shane’s case, saying it once but memorably) about how finding your mate was the best thing that could ever happen to you. What the fuck had they been on? It was fucking torture.
Trying not to move too much, he opened Fiona’s locker and shoved an armful of clothing at her. “Here. Wear this. You’re about the same size. Yell when you’re done.”
Nick ducked into the bathroom, where he gave serious consideration to jerking off while she changed. He’d only have a minute or so. On the other hand, the way he felt, he’d probably explode in ten seconds and have fifty to spare to clean up. And then he wouldn’t be so distracted.
“Why the fuck does she have to be so hot?” he muttered.
Because she’s our mate, growled his wolf. Smugly, he added, She’s the hottest woman in the entire world. And she’s ours.
Shut up about that mate crap, Nick said silently. I fucking hate rich people, and she’s a fucking princess carrying around a backpack full of gold. She’s been handed everything her whole life, without ever having to work or fight for anything. She thinks people like me are the mud under her ruby slippers, and she’s sure as hell not about to get her hands dirty.
“I’m ready,” Raluca called, in her voice like a crystal bell.
Nick pulled his jacket farther down, wishing he’d gotten to business the second the door had closed behind him. Now he’d have to wait for his hard-on to go away on its own. He hadn’t had anything like this happen since he was a teenager.
It’s just because she’s female and practically naked, he told himself. She won’t look half so sexy in workout clothes.
Nick opened the bathroom door. Raluca had stashed her hoard pack in Lucas’s locker. She stood in front of it in her habitual perfect posture, spine absolutely straight without appearing stiff.
She was incredibly sexy in workout clothes. Raluca was slightly taller and fuller-figured than Fiona, so the black fatigues that were loose on Fiona were form-fitting on Raluca, showing off the slim grace of her body. The color contrast, which was also noticeable with Fiona’s pale skin and blonde hair, was even more striking with Raluca’s ivory skin and silver hair.
The princess had switched out some of her jewelry, keeping the silver necklace that drew his eyes to the elegant column of her throat, but changing the rest. Now her hair was
secured with a new pair of clips, butterflies with silver bodies and wings of black and pink jewels sliced paper-thin, so the light actually shone through them. Her rings were silver, two plain with delicate engravings, one a net of silver mesh enclosing seed pearls, and one set with a large black stone with a rainbow sheen. A black opal? Was there such a thing?
Nick cleared his throat. “You need a bulletproof vest. Here. Put it on over your shirt, and then button the jacket over it.”
He held out the vest and jacket. She took them, frowning at the vest’s bulk and heaviness. “I cannot wear this over a ball gown.”
“No,” Nick said. “But wear it when you can.”
She put it on, but seemed puzzled by the straps. Most clients were. Nick was used to showing them how to wear the vest. He’d had female clients before, and had helped them with the vest with the professionalism Hal was always nagging him about. He wasn’t a hound dog like Rafa. Some clients had been pretty, sure, but Nick didn’t flirt on the job. He was there to protect them, and that was all.
“I’ll help you,” Nick said, and stepped forward.
The radiant warmth of her body enveloped him. He and Lucas had sparred together and been jammed together in the back seats of cars on stake-outs often enough for Nick to notice that dragons ran hot. But what was only a familiar nuisance with Lucas, who always seemed to get stuck in close quarters with Nick on the hottest days of summer, was a whole different story with Raluca.
Though there was half a foot of air and a whole lot of clothes between them, she gave off so much heat that it felt as if their bodies were pressed together. He could practically feel the softness of her skin against his, as if they stood naked together, like they really were about to fuck up against the wall.
Why did you have to put that fucking image into my head? Nick demanded of his wolf. It’s not helping.
Raluca jerked backward when he reached out for the vest. Of course she didn’t want his low-class hands on her.
“I’m not going to fucking feel you up,” Nick snapped.
“I thought nothing of the sort.” Raluca drew herself up, her chin lifting arrogantly. “I did not imagine that Hal would hire a common criminal.”
You walked right into that one, Nick thought.
Raluca drove him crazy, and not in a good way — well, not only in a good way — anyway, he couldn’t resist the straight line she’d just fed him.
“You’re wrong about that, baby,” Nick said. “I have a record a mile long. I’m just not the sort of common criminal who’d touch a woman who didn’t want me, that’s all.”
“Don’t call me —” Raluca began, then broke off. Her extraordinary silver eyes widened in a double-take that made him want to laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me the first time.” Nick hadn’t planned to tell her anything about himself, let alone his criminal record, but her reaction was funny enough that he was glad that he had. Let the snob princess know exactly who was guarding her. “Now, do you want to stand there and try to figure out the straps while I watch and you feel stupid, or do you want me to show you how to put it on? They’re tricky if you’ve never worn a bullet-proof vest before.”
“Or you could wait in the bathroom, so I don’t have to watch you watching me,” Raluca said ominously.
“Nope.” Nick folded his arms. “I need to know it’s on right. Either I watch you put it on, or I put it on for you. Your choice. Princess.”
She glared at him, then gingerly lifted first one strap, then another. He didn’t try to hide his amusement as he watched her discover exactly how non-intuitive it was. Finally, she gave a carefully unconcerned shrug. “You do it. Just this once. I’m a quick learner.”
“I bet you are.”
She ignored the double entendre, but watched him carefully as he buckled on the vest. He could feel her burning with curiosity about him, just like her goddamn hot skin burned into his without even touching it. Nick wanted her so much, it made his balls hurt. When he accidentally brushed a fingertip against her hand, they both jumped. He barely managed to step back before her thigh would have collided with his aching hard-on.
He backed away. “Okay. You got it. Now let’s go shopping.”
Raluca’s elegant eyebrows rose as she buttoned Fiona’s black jacket over the vest. “I cannot help my attire. But aren’t you going to change? Or at least bring a change of clothing with you?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Nick demanded.
“I wish to purchase both formal and casual clothing,” Raluca said. “You will look out of place in a formal boutique.”
“So?”
“My jewelry makes up for my clothing. Salespeople will assume I was on some casual errand, then entered on a whim or temptation. They will see that I belong, in any case. You, however, will not seem to belong.”
A familiar anger flared up in Nick. She was right, and he knew exactly how the snob salespeople would stare at him. “They can suck it.”
Raluca looked exasperated. As if she was explaining the alphabet to a slow child, she said, “You will feel uncomfortable.”
“No, they’ll feel uncomfortable,” Nick said. “Fuck them.”
A tiny noise like fine porcelain grinding together filled the air: the princess was gritting her teeth. “Will you please stop saying that word?”
“Does it make you ‘feel uncomfortable?’” Nick inquired, imitating her tone.
He expected her to lose her temper and snap at him. Instead, she looked him in the eye until he felt uncomfortable. More, he felt ashamed. Sure, she was a stuck-up, prim princess. But she’d also had someone try to kill her the night before, and had then gotten stuck with an ex-gangster as a bodyguard. An ex-gangster who was being an asshole to a woman who was out of her depth and running for her life. Nick was used to danger, but Raluca wasn’t. This was all new to her. And not in a good way.
“Yes,” Raluca said simply. “It does.”
“Sorry,” Nick muttered. “I’ll try to keep a lid on it.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was unapologetic, but sincere. Once again, he felt like the world’s biggest dick. “Now, please take me to one high-end boutique and one shop for clothing suitable for the sort of nightclub that you would attend.”
Nick blinked. He did go to nightclubs occasionally, but his dates chose them, not him. And “high-end boutique” was beyond him. “Hang on. I gotta make a call for that one.”
He sat down on the bench and called Destiny.
“Hey, Nick,” Destiny responded immediately. There was an odd echo on the line. “What’cha want?”
“A rec for a high-end boutique. And wherever you buy whatever you wear to go clubbing.”
Her laugh echoed as well, as did her reply, pitched to imitate a kid on a schoolyard. “Oooh, Nicky’s found himself a girlfriend!”
“Fuck, no,” Nick snapped. He didn’t have to turn around to see Raluca’s disapproval — he could feel it burning into his back. “It’s for a client.”
“Ah-ha.” That echoed most of all. The penny dropped as the door opened and Destiny strode in, her phone pressed to her ear. With a grin, she spoke into the phone even as she winked at Nick. “How high are we talking about?”
“Haute couture.” Raluca stepped out from behind Nick. “Hello. I am Raluca, Lucas’s former fiancée.”
Destiny stared at Raluca, then at Nick. Then back at Raluca. Destiny was rarely at a loss for words, but it looked like the unexpected appearance of Princess Balcony Leap had shocked her speechless.
“You must be Destiny,” Raluca said, when it became clear that Destiny wasn’t going to say anything without further prompting. “I am very pleased to meet you.”
Raluca held out her hand in a slightly awkward gesture, as if she wasn’t sure if Destiny would shake or kiss it. Destiny grabbed it and gave it a vigorous pump. Nick knew the strength of his teammate’s deceptively small hands, so he watched for Raluca’s reaction. The dragon princess’s eyes widened in a flicke
r of surprise, then narrowed. Muscles bulged in Destiny’s forearm; Raluca’s slim arm tensed.
Nick stifled a chuckle. He’d seen Destiny do that before, but only to men who doubted her physical abilities. It was odd that she’d do it to a woman who wasn’t even her client. As the silent battle continued, Nick’s amusement faded into an annoyed protectiveness. It was unfair of Destiny to use her strength on a delicate, fragile princess. And why was she even doing it? Raluca had done nothing to provoke it.
Just as Nick opened his mouth to tell Destiny to knock it off, the women released hands, Destiny with a laugh and Raluca with a formal nod. From the new respect that showed on their expressions, Nick guessed that the battle had ended in a tie. He was surprised. He’d assumed Destiny would win — she was not only a shifter, but a veteran and a highly trained bodyguard — but then again, Raluca was a dragon and had shifter strength, though she’d undoubtedly never worked out a day in her life, let alone ever done any actual work.
“Nice to meet you,” Destiny said with a grin. “Lucas told us all about you. I wish I could’ve seen the header you took off the palace balcony! That must have taken so much courage.”
“I can fly,” Raluca pointed out.
Destiny shook her head, sending her braids bouncing. “I didn’t mean the jump. I meant standing up to your family. Leaving the only way of life you’ve ever known couldn’t have been easy.”
“It was not.”
The women looked each other over again, this time slowly and thoroughly. They were opposites all the way down to their clothes, with pale, slim Raluca in black fatigues and dark, curvy Destiny in a white tank top and flared tennis skirt.
Nick hadn’t realized how tall Raluca was until he saw her standing beside Destiny. She’d looked tiny beside Hal, but he towered over everyone. Now Nick realized that Raluca was almost his own height. No wonder he’d had that thought of standing-up sex when he’d helped her with her body armor. They were exactly the right height for it. He wouldn’t even have to lift her. She could just stand on her tip-toes. Or on his feet.