by Anya Nowlan
He kept at a perfectly respectable distance, but that didn’t matter. She got the feeling that she could have been across the country and she would still feel the lingering heat from his gaze, or the odd tremble that seemed to go through the world whenever he was close enough. Her term for ‘close enough’ was expanding rapidly at this point.
“Absolutely not. I have my staff keeping their eyes open for her and the security crew is going over the surveillance feeds of the exits and entrances. We’ll find her, Isobel, don’t worry.”
“Okay,” she said lightly, falling all too easily into those swirling grey eyes of his.
He smiled and the way the corners of his inviting mouth ticked upwards made dimples appear on his cheeks. She wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled. Every manner of inappropriate thoughts had gone through her head so far and it didn’t seem to be getting any better.
Focus!
But she really didn’t want to.
“So do you own this place?” Isobel asked, trying to make conversation.
He seemed to be perfectly content with simply sitting there, practically simmering, and watching her. It would have felt sort of creepy, coming from someone else, but Aeon seemed to have the strong and silent thing down to an art and on him, it appeared effortless.
Goosebumps still pricked her skin every time she felt him looking at her though, which had meant that during the last hour of their so far futile search through Maison Dragon, she’d constantly felt like she was coming down with the flu.
“I do,” he answered, nodding. “Or to be more correct, my family does. But you could say that for this year, it’s all mine.”
“Just the year?”
“Long story,” Aeon said grimly, taking a stiff sip of his whiskey.
Isobel pursed her lips, filing that bit of information away. So the sexy heroic stranger wasn’t entirely flawless – he could at least suffer through the simple human emotion of annoyance. Good to know!
Though a part of her wanted to get right to the task of unravelling the mystery of her savior, a much more sober part of her kept herself from prying further. After all, she could completely understand having stuff that one didn’t want to discuss. Like shitty ex-fiancés and ruined weddings and…
Focus!
“Neat place,” she said, kicking herself immediately for it.
Neat? What was she, back in the ‘80s?
But Aeon grinned and she relaxed a little.
“Thanks,” he said with a nod, tipping his glass a little. “You sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, the water’s just fine.”
She hadn’t even noticed him bring it to her, but he was the attentive kind, it seemed. Well, she knew that without needing further proof. The way he had appeared like the dark avenger from the shadows when that drunk had been bothering her had been something else.
“I want to thank you again, though,” she started, taking a sip of the chilled water. “I think the guy was too drunk to really know what he was doing, but I’m not exactly well versed in dealing with creepy European guys.”
“You’re saying you do better with Americans?” Aeon asked with a quirk of his brow.
If it were only so.
“Not really,” she laughed, setting the glass down. “But you get what I mean, right?”
“You’re thankful that I didn’t let a lout manhandle you in my club. Noted.”
His delivery was perfectly deadpan when he said it, but the hint of amusement on his face made her consider it a part of his personality rather than just an attempt at being… difficult. He certainly had an air about him, though. Like he stood a little apart from the rest. Not necessarily above the people around him, but not on the same path as they were either. It was curious, and intriguing.
“So is this what you do? Wait around until you find a damsel to rescue and then sweep her off her feet?” she asked, trying to lighten the air a bit.
It was difficult, though. Every time their eyes met, she felt like she was being sucked into a vortex and keeping her head clear was becoming more and more difficult. Most worrying of all was that she didn’t even mind. She would gladly jump into that interesting mystery before her and get lost in it.
“I don’t think I’ve quite swept you off your feet yet,” Aeon said, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“Oh, how come?” Isobel queried, the words slipping out before she could catch them.
“I think you’d know if I’d done that,” he said that, deadpan, perfectly serious.
Her cheeks flushed immediately and she had to break the contact between them, looking away. As he had done before when they had been looking at one another from the floor of the club and the balcony, he had done it again. He had made her skin burn and her insides twist and made her feel like she had to put distance between them or she’d burn up in it.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do that.”
Oh my God, is this guy for real? You can’t be that cocky!
But he definitely was, and it looked like he wasn’t even aware of it. It was just the air about him, a complete and unwavering sense of certainty in himself. Joshua had been full of himself, but Aeon? He was confident, and by the looks of him he had every right to be.
“So why are you here?” Aeon asked suddenly.
“Here? Well, I got escorted around by this guy who thinks he can throw around anyone he wants and get away with it,” Isobel said slightly snarkily.
“I don’t mean that,” Aeon replied with a smirk, shaking his head a little. “I mean what are you doing in Arles? You’re American, aren’t you? West Coast? California?”
“I am… I can understand that you could guess my nationality, but how did you figure out I was from California?”
Isobel frowned, considering the options. She hadn’t even been carded at the door – which she sort of wish had happened now that she thought about it – so how could he pinpoint it so easily?
“My mother was American. From San Diego, actually,” he said, and for a moment she could see something flash through his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
A kind of vulnerability that was sort of surprising in its rawness. The puzzle kept getting more and more interesting.
“Did you visit?” she asked, steering clear of the ‘was.’
She didn’t need to be a mind reader to realize that he was speaking in the past tense and his mother was probably not around anymore. He didn’t particularly look like the kind of man who wanted to talk about stuff like that on the first date.
This is not a date. Christ, stop it!
So why did he keep looking at her like he was about to devour her and spit nothing out when he was done with her? Isobel wanted to blame the cocktails but as much as Aeon made her mouth water and her head spin, he also had a curiously sobering effect on her. She was pretty damn sure that anything she would do from this point onward could not be blamed on the fruity pink concoctions she had been consuming at an alarming rate earlier.
“I did,” he confirmed with a nod. “I tended to prefer Colorado though.”
“How come?”
“Always had a thing for mountains, I guess,” he offered with a shrug, taking another deep sip of his drink. “But you’re stalling, I think. Miss Isobel, why are you here?”
The way his lips curled a little as he smirked was the most maddening thing. She wanted to run her thumb along the line of his lip and find out if they were as soft as they looked, and if the slight stubble he had on his chin would rasp against her skin just right.
“My friend took me out for a night of fun,” Isobel finally said, forcing herself to pay attention to the moment instead of getting lost in her happy, lurid fantasies.
At least Aeon was living proof that she could be interested in another man and she hadn’t completely been ruined to the thought of being someone. If she was imagining violating him after knowing him for an hour, then clearly there was hope for her heart.
“An
d did you have it? Fun?” Aeon asked, sounding like he was going to need a little bit of convincing about her claim.
“It was going pretty well, yeah.”
“Nothing makes me a happier business owner to know that what I own is doing its job,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, I could have done without Allie’s disappearing act and the guy coming to creep on me, but it was worth it in the end.”
She almost smacked her hand over her lips as that slipped out.
What are you saying?!
But Aeon definitely didn’t miss the implication. He pursed his lips slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt very much like prey again, mesmerized by the predator before her. But turning tail and running didn’t exactly seem like something she would enjoy doing.
When Isobel thought she would boil over in a second, her phone suddenly buzzed on the table and both she and Aeon jumped a little. She lurched forward to grab her phone and Aeon went to down his drink whole, tossing back several fingers of whiskey.
The bottle he’d poured it from had been the same as one of the ones Joshua kept in his private bar only for the ‘most special’ occasions. If Aeon was using it as a casual evening drink, she didn’t want to guess what he would drink if he really needed to celebrate.
Hon, found some fun! Heading back 2 the villa. Keep yourself busy if you can! – Allie
Isobel groaned out loud, putting the phone back facedown.
“Something the matter?” Aeon asked, a note of worry in his voice as he deposited his glass next to her phone.
“I found Allie. But she found someone too,” she said, giving Aeon a pointed look.
“Oh,” he nodded. “So what happens now?”
“I guess I need to go find a hotel.
“Nonsense. You’ll stay here,” Aeon said, waving his hand at her dismissively.
“What? No, I couldn’t possibly! I’ve imposed on you enough!”
Isobel jumped to her feet, feeling flustered. Her hands went to her hair, instinctively gathering it up to knot it into that damn bun she’d grown so accustomed to. She was already halfway through the loose braid when her hands seemed to realize what they were doing far before her senses actually caught on.
Aeon watched her with quiet interest, having stood as well, but keeping his distance. One of his thick, carefully tapered dark brows was cocked up and the light in his eyes spoke of an almost animalistic interest. Like he was watching some exotic bird preen and fuss in front of him. Isobel’s cheeks burned bright red and she couldn’t stand it.
“I should go,” she said, gathering her things in a sudden rush, forgetting all about the bun.
She was just reaching for her purse when a strong hand locked around her wrist and gently pulled her to stand. He’d moved so quickly that Isobel hadn’t even seen how he crossed the distance between them. Suddenly, he was just there, looming over her.
She looked up into his swirling gaze, seeming to very literally toss and turn like the first tendrils of a great storm.
“I insist,” he said quietly, and she clipped her mouth shut.
His gaze seemed to travel over her face, taking in her features. It left a scorching mark behind, like twin fires burning across her. When his eyes stopped on her lower lip, she couldn’t help but bite it slightly. Her head was empty and time seemed to stand still for a moment in the most peculiar way.
Then again, the whole evening had been nothing but weird.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, and instead of objecting like she perhaps should of, Isobel nodded.
“Yes,” she confirmed, as if it were a question.
It wasn’t.
Aeon
Isobel tasted like mulled wine and divinity. It was, in a word, intoxicating.
His hands slipped behind her delicate neck, cradling her head and digging his fingers into those loose tendrils of hairs that she’d been trying to contain. It had been a futile effort, much to Aeon’s liking. He’d caught himself staring at her tresses one too many times to hope it was simply by accident that he’d glanced at them.
He slipped his tongue over her lower lip and she almost purred. He smiled slightly, deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue into her mouth. She responded. It was gentle and careful at first, tasting him instead of taking what he already knew to be hers. But patience was a virtue that Aeon was in great possession of.
One hand gliding down the delectable curve of her back, it came to rest on the small of her back. Without him having to pull her closer, she moved to him on her own volition and when her soft curves touched against the hard planes of his body, Aeon became immediately and irrevocably aware of how much he wanted this woman.
Scratch that.
How much he needed this woman.
Had he taken a moment to ponder it over, he would have most likely taken a step or two back and asked himself if he’d lost what little sense he was still in possession of. His year of absence from the family mansion was to be spent on work and yet here he was, chasing tail the second night he was out.
Though, if he were being honest with himself, then he would have also noted that this was not the simple indulgence of an urge of some lower sort that he was allowing himself. This was a desire that he could not grasp even if he wanted to. His dragon had turned entirely against him and his insides seemed to absolutely burst and flare with need.
She’s everything.
The thought that should have been sobering only fueled him on.
His other hand left her sweet locks and he grabbed her ass with both hands, picking her up. Isobel yelped, her eyes fluttering open, but she didn’t let go of their kiss. No, if anything, she fell more into it, taking everything Aeon had left with her.
Backing them into the nearest wall, Aeon pinned her between it and him. Her thighs were hooked around his waist and her dress rode up to give him a glimpse of black lace. A growl rumbled up from his chest as he tossed the jacket off his shoulders, leaving it to crumple in a heap.
Isobel’s fingers were nimbly undoing the buttons of his black dress shirt. He yearned to feel her touch on his naked skin but when her hands faltered for a second, the touch he had wanted did not follow. Gasping for breath, Isobel pulled her head back, resting it against the wall.
The blush of embarrassment that had lit her cheeks before was now a flush of desire. He didn’t need to guess to know that as fact. A small frown creased her delicate features as her hand traced the lines of something on his chest, her gaze locked upon it. He looked down, finding her fingertips running over the thick gold locket that took prominence among the four gold chains that were around his neck, tucked under the shirt.
The one she was admiring was the one with the family crest. Dual dragons seemingly consuming one another, grasping at each other’s tails, as they circled in the star-dotted sky. It was intricate gold work, though the dragons were obsidian and their eyes hollow to show the gold beneath the placement.
“I didn’t figure you for a gold kind of guy,” she said, while Aeon’s hands coarsely glided along her delicious, thick thighs, wrapped around him as they were.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said almost absently, leaning forward to lay a kiss on her neck.
And then another. And another. Until he reached the nape of her neck and she stifled a sweet moan. He could hear it dissipate in her throat. Most of all, he wanted to hear it again.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, her voice dreamy as he carried on kissing a path down her chest.
She arched her back, her hands coiling in his hair. When she tugged a little, Aeon had to contain himself from tossing her on the ground and fucking her raw immediately.
If Aeon Prevoir was anything, then he was a gentleman and a dragon. At the moment, he had to struggle to be anything more than a savage and he wasn’t sure if his resolve would hold.
“Would you like me to stop?” he queried, certain she would not ask him to, but fearing it nonetheless.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
He could take that order.
He was hard as hell and when she ground against him in low, sensual rolls of her hips, he thought he would burst. Roughly, he let go of her hands and spun the both of them around again, carrying her back to the couch. He put her down and straightened up, practically ripping his shirt off of himself, not caring if he tore the fabric.
Isobel looked up at him with those big, expressive eyes of hers and when he revealed his hard, muscular upper body, the eyefucking she gave him was as rewarding as he’d wanted it to be. Only a precursor to what he actually wanted from her at this point, of course.
“Take your dress off,” he commanded, his voice strained.
She didn’t hesitate for a second. Whatever it was that had made her so skittish before, it seemed to disappear with every passing second, and he couldn’t enjoy it more. She slipped out of her dress, wiggling it down her hips as she sat on the couch, and Aeon was so damn distracted that he forgot his hands on his belt in mid-motion. Isobel grinned, motioning him closer.
“Need help with that?” she asked, giving him a look of such utter mischief that the groan that tumbled over his lips was practically involuntary.
“Sure,” he said, more a hoarse whisper than anything else.
She undid his buckle and ran the palm of her hand down the front of his slacks. Every muscle in his body went rigid and his cock throbbed against her touch, hard and ready. He pushed his pants and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles, and without missing a beat, Isobel’s hand wrapped around his cock.
Aeon pushed his head back, the eternal fire within him threatening to burst out of him. Small swirls of white smoke rose from his nostrils and mouth and he exhaled deeply, trying to disperse them before she noticed. But Isobel was far too entranced with what she was doing to pay any attention to Aeon’s predicament and soon enough, Aeon was too.