Dragon VIP: Peridot (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 8)

by Starla Night

  She winced and grabbed it. “Ouch!”

  Little blue balls rattled across the floor, scattering chaos.

  Landing on the ground in front of her, he knelt and cupped her elbow. “You’re injured.”

  “Hit my funny bone.” She forced a smile through her watery eyes. “You must be my curse. Always seeing me at my worst.”

  He lifted her into his arms.

  “Oof.” She hugged his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  “Solving the problem.” He addressed the harried store employee at the end of the aisle. “Please assist us.”

  The employee hurried over with cleaning supplies. She handed him Karmel’s purse.

  Karmel wiggled in his arms. “Let me help with that dustpan.”

  “That’s okay, ma’am,” the employee said.

  “But I made the mess. Peridot, let me down.”

  He tightened his hold. “How many packages do you need for your cookies?”

  “Two. But it’s fine. They’re more expensive than I realized.”

  “I will buy two packages,” he ordered. “And pay for the damages.”

  The employee finished cleaning and led them to the busy registers. They did not charge for Karmel’s accident. She protested his purchases.

  “It was an accident.” Karmel wiggled for her purse. “Don’t pay. None of this is your fault.”

  “True. The problem is your shoes.”

  And the second problem was her soft curves pressing into his hard places.

  Her fur-lined red dress, thin leggings, and thick wool coat separated their skin. But her curvy hip snugged against his abdomen. The heavy swell of her breasts strained the fabric a lighter shade. And her scent. It dragged him after Karmel like she’d snapped a ring to his snout. A cinnamon-scented, sugary-sweet ring. Her sweetness tugged his heart out of rhythm. The curve of her soft lips made his dragon stand up and roar.

  Even though she ignored their meeting and preferred to leave him for her errands, he could not stop the pounding of hot blood pumping him full of desire.

  She was walking chaos with a cheerful smile. Effervescent no matter what went wrong. Sadness didn’t seem to touch her.

  He carried her from the store.

  Karmel wiggled in his arms. She was more apologetic and worried than sad. “You don’t have to carry me. I’m not that big a danger to myself or others.”

  They passed a women’s clothing store, and he saw one of her needed things on the display rack. “That purse is a suitable replacement.”

  She stopped struggled. “That’s a COACH bag.”

  “It is a similar color and style. Do you dislike it?”

  “No, I’d love a COACH! They do trickle down to the thrift stores, but new? The only way I can pay for the decorations is if my rent check didn’t clear, to say nothing of new shoes and a COACH.”

  “I will pay.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “It is your consultation fee.”

  “Talking about Christmas is a treat for me, not for you. And I already accepted your donation for ‘Home for the Howlidays.’”

  “Your items broke in my presence. This is my compensation.”

  She gazed at the purse. A flicker of hunger crossed her face. Then, she pshawed. “I don’t need it.”

  “You do.”

  “Look. I’ll stuff what I can into my coat pockets. You can toss my broken purse in that trash can. Problem solved!”

  Her rejection struck him like the blade of a knife.

  Star Sapphire had also refused his first offering. She had dismissed his chest of heirloom gemstones as dull, predictable, utilitarian. He had chafed against the criticism because he was traditional. He had been an aristocrat. Maintaining propriety had been the point.

  Karmel’s rejection was more personal.

  His voice was so low he barely recognized it. “You reject my offering.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “Human currency is nothing. I could purchase this shopping district.”

  “You could. I’d never be able to pay you back.”

  “Do you expect your charity to pay you back?”

  “No, that’s my gift.”

  “This is my gift,” he growled, stiff, “and you reject it.”

  “Of course I do,” she snapped. “Am I your charity?”

  “No, you are my consultant.”

  Stating the words reminded him that just because she was in his arms did not mean she was his mate to carry off and savage. They were in a business relationship. And she had shown multiple ways she did not consider him for romance.

  He forced himself to stop caring. Deaden the pain of her rejection. Become numb.

  “You are my consultant and your consultation has been insufficient. My boss rejected your explanation of ‘Christmas spirit.’”

  “What?”

  “I require another theory,” he continued harshly. “However, you have irresponsibly delayed a pre-existing commitment to shop, bake, and decorate for your charity event. Although you do not respect my time, I respect yours.”

  Her mouth snapped shut. Her face whitened.

  “The only way to complete tonight’s transaction is if you stop wasting time stumbling around from inadequate dress. You require new shoes, a proper purse, and dry clothing. You may also benefit from a wristwatch, supposing you bothered to look at it.”

  “Let me down.”

  “I will not—”

  “Now.”

  He lowered her to the ground.

  Her honey-brown eyes were so furious they almost emitted sparks. “You want to make a donation? Fine. I accept.”

  His heart thudded. She accepted his offering.

  But she wasn’t done. “The sooner we finish up here, the sooner we can split up and go home. Alone.”

  Chapter Five

  Peridot looked pissed.

  Gorgeous, all-too-kissable, and deliciously strong.

  His green eyes snapped with fury.

  Oh, he thought he was angry? Karmel was a human, and she was ready to spit fire.

  She held out her hand. “Give me your credit card.”

  He set the thick, black plastic on her palm. A stack of similarly expensive “billionaire” credit cards peeked from his metal billfold. “Where are you going?”

  She jerked her thumb in the direction of the department store. “To buy one of every decoration. For charity. And then to dinner. You might enjoy protein paste but I need a real meal.”

  He didn’t blink. “Your shoes are not safe to walk.”

  She yanked off her shoes and slammed them in the trash can. “Problem solved.”

  He was silent for a long minute.

  Then, he turned away. “I will make a new dinner reservation. You will share your next theory.”

  “Sure, I have several. Don’t bother with a sit-down restaurant. I don’t want to waste any more of your time.” She stormed off in her wet, squelchy socks without letting him get in the last word.

  Last-minute shoppers packed the department store and closing music chimed. Great.

  A store guard approached. “Your shoes—”

  “I had a wardrobe accident on the ice.” She grabbed a pair of house slippers off the rack, stuffed them on her wet feet, and flashed Peridot’s black card. “I’m going to make a large purchase. Can you call the manager?”

  He lifted his walkie-talkie.

  She’d seen a few black credit cards at the pet salon. Only from people who lived in the multimillion-dollar penthouses and view homes. They were heavier than a normal credit card. The inlay was real metal.

  When the manager arrived, she explained her situation. “I don’t want to keep you late. I need to buy your most expensive decorations as fast as possible.”

  Peridot wanted to donate to charity? Let him donate to charity.

  The manager assigned two stockers to follow her through the store. She’d been craving tall glasses, thick candles, sparkly flocking, and rea
l pine boughs for ages. In one massive explosion, she piled the carts high with her fanciest dreams.

  While she shopped, the argument continued in her head.

  Who was Peridot to criticize her explanation of the Christmas spirit? She was an expert. He was a stupid alien. Who was he to say she was wrong?

  She’d cooled off by the end of the aisle and turned around.

  The employees craned their necks over her sparkling, mountainous carts.

  Guilt set in.

  She’d bought too much. She could get by with festive ribbons and plastic tablecloths. They didn’t need embroidered linen. And if they did, she could embroider it herself, cheap, for next year.

  And, she was going to decorating tonight alone. She didn’t want to be up past midnight on the room.

  “Ma’am?” The manager returned. “Your party is waiting in the dressing room.”

  Her party. Sure.

  The lights flashed a five minute warning.

  Ah, it was too late to economize. She’d use the bare necessities and donate the rest.

  “That’s it,” she said, and relief infused the overworked employees’ faces. She silently apologized again for coming in so late and hurried to the dressing rooms.

  Peridot stood with a rack of dresses. A huge shopping bag filled with multiple COACH boxes sat on the floor beside him. “Here are the dresses closest to your size.”

  She scanned the tags even though there really wasn’t time. “Shouldn’t I get a new corset or something?”

  He followed her glance to the shaper wear. “Do you enjoy being constricted?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then it is unnecessary.”

  Karmel pulled out a boring gray dress and escaped into the fitting room. It was nice to get out of her wet leggings and thin dress.

  But, ugh, the cheapest in the pile was ugly. It pinched her shoulders and bunched under her boobs.

  Hopefully, it would make Peridot happy.

  A little twinge of excitement curled in her belly. How many COACH bags had he bought? And he was buying her a dress? And shoes?

  Calm down.

  He was a billionaire. Human currency was nothing. He’d said so himself. A paycheck to her wasn’t even pocket change to him. It was pocket lint.

  She was pocket lint.

  Karmel forced herself to believe that as she prepared for approval and exited the fitting room.

  The implacable dragon’s brow darkened.

  She pinched her ill-fitting skirt and twirled. “You don’t like it?”

  “It doesn’t fit.”

  She lowered her hands.

  “Human measurement systems are inefficient.” He grumbled under his breath as he sorted dresses on the rack. “Your breasts are full, your shoulders are narrow, and your torso is long. The skirt should flare over your hips. Ah, here.” He held up a glittering blue dress, tugged the skirt, and frowned at the scoop neck, then thrust it at her. “Try that.”

  She held it. The fabric changed colors from smoky blue to darkest midnight. It looked like a night sky.

  “And these shoes.” He set chunky heels adorned with glittering rhinestones atop the dress in her arms. “Hurry.”

  Behind schedule again.

  She closed the fitting room door, inch-wormed out of the gray dress, and donned the blue silk. The bodice lifted her boobs and flattened her stomach, and the generous skirt swirled around her thighs. She clothed herself in twinkling starlight.

  Karmel slipped on the shoes. They fit like Cinderella’s slippers. The chunky heel was stable and cute.

  The woman in the fitting room mirror looked sophisticated. Her curly mass of hair suddenly seemed intentional. She fished out her tube of gloss and swiped her lips in coral pink. There. She was put together.

  How had he known?

  She stepped out of the fitting room.

  Peridot was sorting through the other dresses on the rack, muttering. “Need a tailor.” He glanced at her and stopped.

  Karmel twirled. The dress flared around her thighs like the skirt of a Christmas tree.

  An unfamiliar hunger crossed his face. His green eyes gleamed. They trailed down her body and up again, consuming her with his hot gaze.

  Her breasts swelled.

  She linked her fingers in front of her. “Better?”

  He nodded wordlessly.

  Her belly squinched with nerves.

  He stepped to the COACH bag, rummaged inside, and emerged with a matching dark blue bag. A little blue leather tree dangled from the handle. “I bought the Christmas edition.”

  Her eyes burned. She transferred her wallet and things from her wool jacket to the purse and shouldered the soft, fresh leather. “Thank you.”

  He made arrangements for delivery to her apartment and then they left the department store and took the escalator to the exit of the emptying mall.

  On the chilly street, he held out his elbow.

  Her nerves twanged again. She tried to dismiss it with a joke. “Don’t trust me to walk on my own?”

  “I thought it was common for Earth males and females to link arms when they go to dinner.”

  “Dinner dates,” she said. “Romantic dinner dates.”

  The intent focus of his green eyes suggested he did know it. He was testing her. The warmth in his eyes was real. Not her imagination.

  A needy ache twisted between her legs. Her fantasies rushed back.

  Maybe he did like her. Maybe he was cautious. He’d already offered his arm to one fiancée, and she’d practically ripped it off. Maybe the fire kindling in Karmel’s belly was one he shared, and feared, and fought against, too.

  Was she brave enough to reach back?

  Karmel stepped forward and curled her fingers around his forearm.

  The gray suit fabric was cool, but the hard forearm beneath was blisteringly hot. And he smelled deliciously male. Pine and musk. He made her feminine center throb and her belly clench.

  They strolled down the thinning streets. Christmas fell midweek this year and so lots of people still had to get up tomorrow and work Christmas Eve, Karmel not included. She’d be working on the charity event.

  Peridot’s long stride tugged her along. He noticed and modulated his pace. Was he not used to walking in pairs? She also wasn’t used to it, but with him, it felt wonderful.

  December darkness blanketed the city, and pale clouds hinted at the possibility of more sleet. She leaned on Peridot, confident of his powerful strength.

  He noticed. “Do you wish to fly?” His voice rumbled intimately near her ear.

  Yummy shivers went down her spine.

  “Walking is nice.” She tried not to read too much into it. “I feel stable. No risk of losing a heel. These are the first new shoes I’ve had in … gosh. I don’t know how long.”

  “You dislike spending money.”

  “I have little to spend.” She smoothed the expensive but surprisingly warm skirt. “Anyway, I have enough, and others need new things more than I do.”

  “I will send ten pairs of new shoes to your apartment tomorrow.”

  “That’s very nice, but you shouldn’t. This is already too expensive.”

  “Cheap for peace of mind.” A glimmer of amusement tinted his voice. “Your accidents are nerve-wracking.”

  “Sorry.” She gazed up at the hopeful, overcast sky. “You bring out the worst in me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m such a mess and you’re so perfect.”

  “Perfect?” He stared down at her. “I’m an exile banished for disgracing my species. Don’t joke.”

  “Oh. God. Sorry. I didn’t mean—well, you’re so organized and on time and calm. That kind of ‘perfect.’ You make me nervous.”

  His face flattened. “Nervous? My presence makes you ill-at-ease?”

  She’d made it worse.

  Karmel stopped and faced him.

  Sharp hurt flashed before he forced his expression back to his usual half-lidded, implacable ster
nness. He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  “Do you to think I’m cool?”

  He blinked. “Cool?”

  “You see my bad decisions. I want to dress up and impress you but instead, I fall down and I’m late.” She squeezed his closest forearm. “And every time I mess up, I try even harder. That makes it worse. It’s not your fault I get nervous. I spend the whole time wondering what’ll go wrong. Today, I hit a new personal record because the answer was ‘Everything.’”

  He frowned over his shoulder at something in the distance. “Are you saying…?”

  She leaned forward.

  He flinched away as though he couldn’t bear to look at her straight. “… you don’t dislike me?”

  Shock jolted through her. “Dislike? No! What? Why?”

  “You deferred our meeting as an ‘errand’.”

  “Agh! No, that was just bad planning. I had the walk-in right as we were closing, and then — see? I’m a mess. You can’t understand because you’re perfect.”

  His face closed again.

  “Not perfect! I mean, you’re better with time management. But listen.” She shook his crossed forearms. “I like you! I’m sorry how tonight started. You’re not an errand. I wanted to meet with you. I really like you.”

  His shoulders relaxed and his frown smoothed. “You rejected my offering.”

  “Huh?” She looked down at her outfit. “Oh. Well, it’s just… I love it, but it costs so much…”

  “You fixate on its assigned price over its utilitarian value.”

  “Oh, jeez. That makes me sound so shallow.” She dragged a hand through her hair to pull her curls out of the way. “Let’s enjoy a nice dinner, have a real conversation, and figure ‘us’ out.”

  The olive glimmer in his eyes intensified. “You believe there is an ‘us’?”

  His gaze verged into a hypnotic, smoldering heat like he was tasting her. Her mouth went dry.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  He moved with command. His bulging arms snugged around her middle and tugged her flush. Her breasts pressed against his solid chest, her thighs nestled against his, and her mouth landed mere inches from his.

  She squeaked.

  Oh yes. Yum. More fodder for her fantasies.

  His eyes darkened. “Hold on.”

  “Huh?”

  Gravity reversed. They floated off the ground.