Two poles were mounted in the middle of the stage. One was a stationary pole, and the other pole spun on ball bearings. He knew they would be regulation positioned, exactly three meters apart. The lights inside the poles were a new touch, and the background drapery in a cheetah print pattern suggested an animalistic performance.
No matter the lights and costuming, the professional dancers here worked just as hard executing their routines as the Crown Jewel troupe. Most of the dancers at the club were an elite set of athletes that competed in nationally recognized pole sport competitions around the world.
“Note to Darius,” Mei said. “Foreplay in my book does not include other women and strip poles.” Irritation permeated off her body, and the faint chill of her dragon’s anger still trailed her.
“Nobody knows about this place.” Darius shrugged. “I wanted to share something personal with you. I come here every now and then and use their poles.”
“You?” Mei’s jaw dropped. “You dance in front of a crowd?”
Darius shook his head. “They’ve a practice studio in the back I use.”
Mei looked at the two poles, then looked at him, disbelief in every line of her body. “You are going to pole dance?”
“If you’re lucky.” He was oddly annoyed at her judgmental reaction. “Pole dancing is a very difficult and rigorous sport.”
“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not at all persuaded.
“Come on.” Darius walked past the stage to the back of the club where his office was. He flipped the light on, illuminating a spacious room with only a desk and computer in it—and his treat for Mei spread out on a table-clothed, rough table near the back wall. The treat sat on a round table Lana had set up for him at the back. A five-star-restaurant lunch was laid out, and his stomach growled at the fragrant smells filling the office.
He touched the light coat of dust on his desk. Part of his arrangement with Lana included no one disturbing his workspace. From the dust, it looked like she’d given the instruction to the cleaning staff.
Walking to the audio equipment against the wall, he plugged in his cell phone. As he flipped through the device for music, he saw he had several text messages from Scott.
Still crunching, the last one read, telling him the high-level search he was running on Bo Quan was still churning. He expected it to take several more hours at least. He pulled up a classical station from his satellite radio, and the melodic sonata filled the quiet space, doing much to settle his equilibrium.
Mei stood in the middle of the doorway, peering in. “I don’t know what to think about all this.”
“Can’t you just relax and take things as they come?” He couldn’t keep his annoyance from his tone.
Mei stood still for several seconds, twisting her hands in front of her.
“I have trouble with being controlled,” she said as if the admission was important to her. He laughed that she thought she was telling him something he didn’t already know.
“I got us some food.” He gave her a grin. “Totally up to you if you want to eat or not, but I’m starving.”
Mei stepped into the office and shut the door behind them, her ballet flats shuffling across the carpet, reflecting her obvious reluctance. She stopped in front of the table with her back to him. “Wow.” She looked over her shoulder, gesturing to the bone china plates and the crystal glasses. “How did you do this?”
“Lana helped me,” he said, pulling out a chair for her. “She’s not so bad.”
Mei had the grace to look a bit chagrined. “Maybe I won’t eat her then.” She sat down in one of the chairs and smiled, which he knew was all the concession he’d get.
He walked behind her and scooted her chair forward; let his cheek touch hers. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I’m sorry.” Mei gave him a sideways glance that told him she was embarrassed about her behavior. “I was rude to her.”
He sat across from her and reached for his water glass. He sipped the cool, iced liquid to give her time to continue talking.
Mei placed her napkin on her lap and peered under the silver cover atop her plate. “Trying for sushi again?”
“Second time’s the charm.” Darius uncovered his own plate.
“Is this from the Wynn?” Mei asked with delight in her voice.
“It is.”
“Wynn’s is my favorite,” she said, as if he didn’t already know.
He reached for the perfectly chilled champagne. “Would you like champagne or a mimosa or just water?”
“A mimosa would be lovely.”
Darius poured fresh-squeezed orange juice in her flute and followed it with champagne. It bubbled over, and Mei laughed, picked up the glass flute, and brought it to her mouth.
“Guess you can tell, I don’t pour the champagne very often.” He lifted his flute toward her, clicking their glasses together. “To new beginnings.”
“To not getting killed,” Mei countered and took a sip of her drink.
“I figure we have about four hours until the first guests start arriving.” He gave her a level look. “We’re safe here.”
Mei nodded, accepting his assessment. “You know what I love best about this sushi?”
Darius smiled, realizing she was making a sincere effort to relax. “What?”
“I love that it’s so fresh I can still taste the salt from the ocean.” She took a savoring bite and rolled it over her tongue with obvious enjoyment. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I miss the ocean.”
“Do you prefer salt water to fresh water?”
Her face went blank, and she glanced down at her plate, tension stretching her straight in her chair as if she were on trial with a spotlight shining on her and a polygraph attached to her finger. Jesus. Frustration beat at him. “We can’t avoid talking about your past. It’s about to be our present.”
“Both salt and fresh water are fine,” she said.
They ate in silence for a few moments. Darius searched for a safe topic that would bring back their earlier ease. He watched her under half-lidded eyes, his interest so intense he hardly noticed the excellent meal disappearing from his plate.
He wished he had that thing other mated couples said they had, where they could tell the emotions of their partner. He and Mei had not made it to that level of closeness yet—which was damn inconvenient. Reading her mind would be very helpful.
He went for bluntness. “So I can tell that you’re uncomfortable. Is it because I asked you about salt water?”
Mei averted her glance. “It’s hard for me to talk about the way my life was with them.”
“Fine. No more questions.What would you like to do?”
“Could you tell me what you have planned?” She paused and wiped her already clean mouth with her napkin. “I have trouble with surprises, too.” Her voice broke.
“You don’t like surprises, ever?”
“No.” The admission seemed to make her very sad, and her gaze shifted to the left as if she were remembering.
He reached over the table and held her hand. It was unnaturally cold in his. “I’ll tell you everything in advance.”
She took a deep breath and smiled at him, and just for a moment, he saw the real Mei. She was terrified. The knowledge sent his dragon crouching and pawing to do some dragony justice to whoever had hurt her.
“First, a dance lesson.” Darius motioned at the floor. “Nothing sinister, I promise. And if you don’t want to try that, we can do whatever you like.”
Chapter Thirteen
“A pole dance lesson?” Mei’s head filled with sexy images of Darius working out at the gym the day before.
“Just a plain old box-step waltz.” Darius pushed his chair back from the table. “I have it on good authority that a couple should dance together.”
“Really?” Mei welcomed the distraction from her worries over what would happen that night at the gala. Why not enjoy the few hours they might have left before her enemies caught
up to her?
She took a sip of her water. “I’d love a dance lesson.”
“Good.” Darius nodded his chin at her half-eaten plate. “Finish up, you’ll need your energy.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Tell me about pole dancing.” She lifted the cucumber roll and munched on one end.
“There’s actually a whole sport developing around it.” He sounded pleased. “Pole sport, they call it.”
“And you’re a pole sport athlete?” She remembered him in the gym, holding the iron cross.
“No, I just do it to exercise. It is tough.”
She finished her dinner and pushed her plate forward. “Is the sport of it catching dollars in your pants?” she teased.
Darius laughed, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind his head. “The sport requires strength and athleticism, and a cohesive dancing routine.”
“Did you do this with the circus, too?”
“It was a part of the conditioning. There was nothing seedy or sexual about it.”
“Too bad.” She gave him a genuine smile, and then tilted it deliberately toward lasciviousness.
The quiet pauses between them were comfortable now, charged with awareness. It was as if they were on the same-metered count.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.
Mei sat straight, bracing herself, knowing it was going to be a question about the rest of the water dragons.
“It’s just a question, Mei. You don’t have to answer.”
“All right.” She sucked in a breath. She felt as if she was preparing for a blow to the abdomen.
Darius looked disappointed by her change in demeanor. “How about I’ll trade you a dance lesson for ten minutes of truths?”
“What does that mean?” Mei stood, nerves suddenly crawling up her back.
“Fine. The truths are optional.” Darius stepped to the middle of the floor and extended his hand. “Come on.”
Her heart pinched in regret that she couldn’t be as open as him, that she still had secrets that would drive him away from her. “I’m not a very good dancer.”
She walked to him with a determined step. They had this moment, and no promise of another. She didn’t want to wish she’d taken his hand tomorrow, only to find it too late. “I’ve never had lessons.”
There was no music on the islands. The first time she’d heard music had been in Paris, the night she met Darius. It had rocked her to her core, and she’d swayed and moved for hours alone in the crowded nightclub, her mind and body completely absorbed by the rolling melody.
“All the more reason to try.”
Mei stepped flush to him, feeling the heat between them, the pull of attraction in her lower body. She placed her hands in his, feeling them shake slightly.
“Are you scared?” He leaned his face closer to hers so she could see the concern in his pale eyes.
“I’m nervous.” The admission was real, and she let it slip out uncensored.
Darius pulled his hands from hers, making it clear it was her choice. She put her hands in his again, and he gathered her to him, close, but not nearly close enough.
“The proper distance is about a foot apart. You put your hand on my shoulder, and I get the pleasure of putting my hand…” His palm wandered down her backside and tiny tingles of pleasure followed. He cupped her butt, and her anxiety dissipated with her laughter.
He brought his hand up to her lower back and finished his sentence. “Here.”
Mei was surprised how well they fit together. Without her usual heels on, her head didn’t top his broad shoulders, but she didn’t feel overpowered by him.
“Backward-side-together,” he called the foot moves in her ear. Mei followed his lead until they were dancing short turns around the office. “Forward-side-together,” he said.
Mei leaned back in his arms and laughed. She could have been flying, but without the sluggishness that always accompanied her dragon in the air. She opened her eyes to see Darius grinning at her, and her heart constricted a little.
“I like to see you laugh, Mushka,” he said.
“What other smooth moves have you got?”
“The Viennese Waltz.” Darius slowed their pace so they were moving more sedately.
Mei stepped closer to him and twined her hands around his neck as Darius explained the basics of the dance. The jut of his arousal brushed her belly, and she rubbed closer, loving his quick inhale of breath.
He moved her away from his chest, giving her distance to take in the slight nuances of his expression. She read enjoyment in the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.
She deliberately misstepped so that he bumped into her. He righted her with a hand at her hip. “You have to follow,” he whispered in her ear.
“Is this why you like dancing so much?” She stepped wrongly again so that he quickstepped to avoid her feet. “The whole leading thing?”
“You can lead if you want.” He whipped them around so he moved backward, pulling her with him across the floor.
“You’re still leading,” she said.
“Perception is a tricky thing.” He kissed the side of her neck, and shivers followed.
“I know one way to lead.” She dropped her hand from his shoulder to the band of his shorts, and slipped her hand in his waistband. He sucked in a breath, and her hand snaked downward. She stroked the length of him, feeling him grow hard and rigid.
“Mei.” He pulled her closer so they were no longer the proper distance apart.
Her need pulsed, reminding her of the electric connection and utter bliss she’d found in his arms. Escape, if only for a while with him. She wanted that now. She continued stroking him, and he leaned his forehead to her, a small groan escaping even as he shuffled them in tight circles around the floor.
“We’re supposed to be just dancing here,” he said.
She misstepped entirely, and he lifted her off her feet. “This is not dancing at all,” she said. “You’re just carrying me around the floor.”
His hold placed her mouth level with his neck, and she leaned forward, kissing him, tasting saltiness and heat. He shuddered as she moved her mouth upward to his ear.
He stopped abruptly, releasing her to the ground. The absence of his arms and the circular motion of the dance made her feel as dizzy as if she were the ocean tide called back to his shore.
Darius walked stiffly to the audio equipment and turned off the music so that the sound of his jagged breathing came to her ears. She felt faintly guilty for tormenting him. The euphoria of the dance slipped away with the last strains of the music.
“I want you to talk to me.” Darius sat hard on a stool near the sound system, a good twenty feet away from her. She knew from the pulsing excitement of her own razor sharp desire that she’d pushed him to the edge.
“I am talking to you,” she insisted.
“No, you aren’t.”
The distance between them seemed to expand, the space growing vast with all she had not yet told him of her past. “There are things,” she conceded. “Things I can’t talk about.”
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what we’re up against.”
“We are not up against anything. It’s my problem, not yours.”
“If Alec won’t accept you into the kingdom, I’ll leave with you,” he said, a fierce frown on his face. “But you have to tell me everything. No surprises.”
She must have heard wrong. “What?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Mei walked to their dinner table and scraped their finished meal scraps onto one plate. She stacked the plates neatly together.
“Got it the way you want it now?” Darius’s question brought her eyes back to him, still sitting on the stool.
“What do you mean?”
“The table,” he said. “You just cleared it like a pro. You’ve worked as a waitress somewhere?”
Mei looked away from him to the clos
ed door. She hadn’t worked as a waitress; she had been a handmaiden to the Triton House. Taking care of the men in the dragon fold was ingrained, expected. Her whole life consigned to service.
Her whole life a lie.
The bread plate in her hands slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor at her feet. “Why can’t you just leave it alone?” she whispered.
Darius walked to her, picked up her hand, and brought it to his lips. The warm brush of his breath said he was not going to leave anything alone. She shook her head, considering the ramifications.
Mei felt the insurmountable distance between them with a tight ache of longing. Sadness for all that would not be—could not be—between them overwhelmed her.
Then his cell phone broke the heavy silence with peals of “Urgent, urgent, urgent—Emergency… Urgent, urgent, urgent—Emergency…”
…
“What the hell?” Darius walked to his phone, still plugged into the speaker feed. “I had that thing turned off.”
Mei followed him to his desk. “Is it Scott?” Her voice was anxious and tight, the ease of their dance session long gone.
“We aren’t done talking yet.” Annoyance filled Darius at the interruption.
“Urgent, urgent, urgent—Emergency… Urgent, urgent, urgent—Emergency…”
Mei kept her eyes on his phone, tension in every line of her body.
“Hello,” he said with a brisk, this-better-be-good tone.
“Boss,” Scott said, “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Obviously.”
“Your query is still running—”
“How’d you hack my phone?” He had his own security system protecting all his computers, including his phone.
“I have my tricks, too.” Scott sounded pleased.
Darius listened to his manager’s smug satisfaction. There was no real harm done. “Nice touch with the song.”
“Get it?” He could hear Scott smiling over the line. “Foreigner, like you.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Gotta have a little style to your hacking, someone once told me.”
Dragon Her Back (Entangled Covet) Page 9