by Amelia Jade
“I am now,” he replied.
“Now?” she asked, turning and leaning up against the counter to look at him while they waited.
“I am also an instructor at Top Scale Academy,” he explained. “We just finished with a class, however, and while I will continue with individual lessons with the new graduates, as a whole there is nothing going on. So I have moved back into being a Guardian.”
“Really, Top Scale? That’s pretty impressive,” she said with a low whistle.
Zander just shrugged, then reached up quickly to calm Chester, who had been dislodged by the motion of his thick shoulders as they bounced up and down. The kitten mewled once, digging its claws gently into his shirt and skin to reposition itself, and then curled right back up, once more purring loudly.
You’re lucky I like your owner, wee one, he thought. It was true though; he did find himself enjoying Riss’s company. For a human, she was unusually interesting, similar to the mates some of his recent trainees had found. Perhaps, he wondered, there’s more to the human species than I’d originally considered.
In the two hundred-plus years of his life, Zander had had minimal interaction with them. What he’d had was often in the form of human women practically throwing themselves at him so that he’d sleep with them. That had suited him fine for a time, but he’d grown weary of it after a while. He wanted a bit more of a challenge.
But it’d never come. Nor had his interest in a woman ever grown either. Zander had, to this date, never found himself intrigued by a woman who he wasn’t interested in purely for a round or three in the sheets.
And yet, as much as he was attracted to Riss, he was coming to realize more and more that he actually enjoyed her company and talking with her. It was a strange novelty.
***
That thought continued over dinner—which, while plain, was quite tasty—and into the evening. They chatted about mostly things inconsequential, and a few that weren’t, like the upcoming trial of a shifter from another territory called Fenris. He was charged with the kidnapping and assault of one of Zander’s close friends, Rhynne Nova, daughter of several powerful scions in Cadia. It was a trial that had captivated all of Cadia, especially because of the threats from Fenris that had followed with it.
Once dinner was done though, and after he’d help clean the dishes with their faded crosshatch patterns and put them away neatly, he decided it was time to go. This was far longer than he’d planned on staying in the first place. His original thought had been to escort her home, and that would be all. Instead, he now found himself at the door to her house, throat dry and words failing to come as he struggled to decide what to say.
Riss, thankfully, was equally silent as they looked at each other.
“Thank you for dinner,” he said, shocked at how awkward he sounded.
“It was the least I could do after you made sure I was safe,” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
Something stirred inside Zander, but he forcefully pushed it back down. Now was not the time for that.
“I, ah, I suppose I should go,” he said with a look over his shoulder at the door.
“I guess,” Riss said with a shrug of her shoulders, the motion raising up the swell of her cleavage slightly.
The motion did nothing to help the stirring between his legs, and Zander knew it was now or never.
He leaned in to Riss and hugged her, his arms settling around her shoulders. Her hands swept up under his and grasped his shoulders, her fingers digging in tight. They stood there together for just a moment longer than what would be considered appropriate. Then, as if by some mutual agreement, they broke apart.
Zander tugged on the sides of his shirt, resettling it around his shoulders, while Riss pulled up her dress top, concealing some of the cleavage that had become exposed when she reached out to him.
“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said politely, nodding his head.
“Yes,” Riss replied with a jerky nod.
“Take care,” he said, looking once more into the swirling gray abyss of her eyes before all but fleeing out the door.
“Try not to scream at any more cats,” she called after him, having recovered her wits.
“I didn’t,” he thundered into the night, though there was humor in his voice now. That was to be an ongoing thing, it would seem.
A smile crossed his lips as he fled into the dark. A real smile, one full of happiness and excitement.
Things were looking up.
***
Riss
The shop came into view at last, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Her walk to work that morning had been one of the most stressful events of her life. Doubly so when she had gone past the point where, the night before, she had almost been mugged, or worse!
Without Zander’s strong, imposing presence next to her—which she was finding she craved more than she should—Riss had walked nervously alone, hunched over and not stopping for anything as she just tried to bull her way to work.
There were people out and about this time thankfully, and she hadn’t encountered any trouble. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t been a bundle of nerves, jumping at every noise and bit of movement that skirted through her vision.
Would Zander walk me home again tonight, if I asked?
She didn’t want to, but the other alternative was taking the main streets all around, which added almost twenty minutes to her commute. Of course, if the alternative were encountering some shady character in an alley, then she would take that time without hesitation. But if a certain tall, broad-shouldered, sandy-haired dragon shifter wanted to walk next to her, she wouldn’t object either.
Her key out, she fiddled with the lock and slipped inside. The back room was already lit, and the whirring buzz of a sewing machine came from the room to her left as she walked down an aisle between racks of clothes and other items.
“Hey Miranda,” she called to the in-house tailor, waiting for a pause in the noise to ensure she was heard.
“Morning Riss,” came the distracted reply, that of someone focused wholly on another task.
Riss just shrugged and hung up her jacket and light scarf. The morning had been a slightly chilly one, so she’d worn the extra layers, expecting the night to be even worse by the time she got out of the store.
“How was your evening?” Miranda asked as Riss poked her head into the tailor’s room.
There were still a few minutes before she had to worry about opening up the shop. After working there for so long, she’d timed her morning walk to get her to work at the exact time that was necessary. This morning, however, because of her added speed to avoid anyone who might be lurking along the way, she’d arrived early.
“Good,” she said, trying to keep the smile off her face at the memory of her evening with Zander.
Clearly she failed, because Miranda put down the garment she was working on—Zander’s suit by the looks of it—and gave her an appraising eye. The two of them, while not friends outside of work, had become friendly enough, united by their distaste for Mr. Barnesworth.
“Okay,” the diminutive owl shifter said, leaning back in her chair. “Spill.”
“Spill what?” Riss asked, trying to sound innocent and confused.
Miranda just stared at her.
“Holy shit, am I that obvious?” she asked in disbelief.
The shifter just nodded slowly.
“Damn. Okay, well…”
“Oh my goodness. It was a guy!” Miranda exclaimed as Riss hesitated in her delivery.
“How the hell could you possibly know that?” Riss asked, genuinely astonished.
“Women’s intuition,” Miranda replied with a wink. “I need all the details. Now.”
“I…can’t give you much details,” she said. “Partially because nothing really happened, like, nothing physical I mean. But he ended up having dinner at my place. So, yeah, that happened.”
“That is definitely more th
an nothing,” Miranda admonished with a smile. “Who is he?” she asked with an excited gleam in her eye.
Miranda was a gossip. Riss liked her, but if she wanted whatever was going on with Zander—if anything even was going on—to remain a secret, she couldn’t reveal who it was. Her eyes flicked to the suit and back up just as quickly, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed.
But Miranda was too busy waiting for juicy details to have picked up on it.
“I can’t tell you that,” she said quickly. “Not yet, at least,” she added. “I have to figure out just what’s going on, and why he’s…why, whatever. It’s so weird. I barely know him, yet I want him around more.”
“Now that’s chemistry,” Miranda said with a happy clap of her hands. “What’s he look like?”
“Well, he’s tall. Not like grizzly tall, but you know, that height where you can just melt into them and still get lost in their arms, with your head resting on their chest, and—”
A dreamy look had crossed Miranda’s face, and Riss knew her friend understood it all too well. Though the owl wasn’t mated, she was a bit of a…social butterfly, she supposed was a polite word for it. Most shifters had little to no reservations when it came to sex, but Riss had a bit of her mother’s sense of propriety still, no matter how outdated it might be in the modern world.
Not that I think I’d be able to maintain it if Zander tried anything.
For a guy who she’d known less than twenty-four hours, he certainly had weaseled his way into her mind quite easily. Riss wondered what would happen if she were to see him again. The concept scared and thrilled her. There was still something about him that irritated her, perhaps his lack of boundaries, or something. And the way he had to be forced to explain his thoughts, that definitely irked her.
So there were a few things she didn’t like.
The back door chimed, interrupting her mental list of pros and cons of Zander, sending them all into a jumble. She wasn’t sure which list was longer.
“Riss?”
It was her boss.
“Yes Mr. Barnesworth?” she replied, moving out of the tailor’s room.
“Why is the store not open?” he asked, gesturing to the dimly lit front of the shop.
Because we still have ten minutes till opening, and it takes me exactly three to get everything done, you pompous asshole.
“Just getting started on it right now, sir,” she replied with a fake smile. “I just wanted to ensure that Miranda had those suits ready for this morning. I thought that if I—if we—could make Zander, er, Mr. Pierce, happy with our service, perhaps he’d recommend some of his friends our way,” she said, trying to distract him with the idea of more money.
It was, in hindsight, not the best move. Even as she spoke, Riss wanted to hit herself. If Zander was right, if Mr. Barnesworth had arranged for her to get mugged, then talking to him about money was a bad idea.
“Ah, yes, of course. That would be excellent. I’m sure we could all use more money,” he said, pausing expectantly.
He’s waiting for me to tell him about how I was mugged last night! To say yes, I could use it after losing what I made yesterday. He doesn’t know!
That all but confirmed to her that Zander had been correct: her boss was behind it all. That seemed petty even for him, but there was no denying the way he had asked the question or paused to allow her to say something. It couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d worn a sign himself.
And if I’d been mugged, I would have fallen for it easily, without thinking twice! I would never have suspected a thing. I owe all of that to Zander.
It irked her to be even more in the big shifter’s debt, but she was. There was no doubt about it.
“Yep, more money would definitely be appreciated,” she said instead, pitching it as if she wished he would give her a raise.
Ire flashed through his eyes, but he was canny enough to conceal it before it manifested on his face.
“You had a good night, I assume?” he asked, probing slightly deeper about her after-work experience.
“Oh yes, it was a great night,” she replied, only letting the grin slide across her face, tugging her thick cheeks upward after she’d turned away from Mr. Barnesworth. She headed into the shop’s front, flicking on lights and adjusting clothes as she went, straightening the place up. It was Saturday, and she was expecting it to be slightly busier than normal.
At the exact moment the clock on the wall above the register flicked to nine, she unlocked the front door and turned the sign from closed around to open.
“And another day begins,” she muttered.
Riss had gotten two steps toward the counter when there was a swift rap on the door, followed by the sound of it opening.
“Good morning, welcome to—”
Her voice died as she found herself face-to-face with two deep brown eyes, filled with brass metal flakes that seemed to act as magnets to her gaze, pulling her in deep until she was lost in the pools of liquid that seemed to be focused right back at her.
“Hi, Zander,” she heard herself say breathlessly, the sounds so quiet she wasn’t sure he’d pick them up.
“Good morning,” he replied in his trademark rumble, the earthen power reaching out to caress her, ripples of electricity making their way down her spine.
The hair on her neck stood on end as the electricity between them grew. Through her peripheral vision she could see he was wearing jeans, though darker this time. A white T-shirt, no logo or anything on it was all that covered his upper half, where it fit tightly across his shoulders and arms. Not because it was a size too small, but simply because that’s how large he was.
Who is this guy, and why am I so attracted to him?
Then, just like that, there was a noise at the back and the moment was over. Zander bestowed a smile upon her, his eyes coming to life with humor as he slipped past her, waltzing into the store as if he owned the place.
“Ah, hello, Mr. Pierce,” her boss said, coming from around the counter to shake Zander’s hand profusely. “So good to see you again. Did you need anything more today?”
She watched as Zander’s arm flexed while he shook her boss’s hand, forcing Mr. Barnesworth to grimace as the handshake went on for several moments longer than necessary.
“No, my good man,” Zander said with false sincerity. “I am perfectly good. If I have any needs, which I am sure I will, you will have Riss assist me, yes?”
“Ah, of course,” Mr. Barnesworth said, his hand falling to his side where he flexed it discreetly several times, red marks easily visible on it.
“Good.” Zander said, and then simply stood there, staring her boss down.
“Well, I think I have some things I should take care of,” he said, gesturing to the back, eager to be away from the dragon shifter.
“Of course. I’m sure an honest businessman like yourself is always occupied,” Zander said.
Riss winced as he laid the sarcasm on a little thick for her liking. She strode over to him after her boss scurried into the back.
“Don’t you think that was a little much?” she asked. “He might pick up on the fact that we know he was behind the mugging attempt last night. Which, by the way, he doesn’t seem aware has failed yet. Whoever it was hasn’t reported to him.”
Zander looked at her and she explained the morning’s events to him. To her surprise, Zander appeared thoughtful, as if there were more to it.
“Or, perhaps the mugger wasn’t reporting to him at all?” he suggested. “Perhaps there is a third party.”
Riss shook her head. “Can’t be. Who else would know of it? Nobody else was here.”
Zander looked at her, but he didn’t say anything more. Clearly he didn’t believe her, but Riss knew she was right. Why else would anyone be involved? It was already crazy enough that her boss had called someone to mug her. But a complex plot involving someone else? Now that was just crazy.
So instead, she busied herself by getting his suit and th
e shoes she’d set aside from the back and thrusting them, along with Zander, into a changing room.
“Now, let’s see how it all fits,” she ordered, stepping out and pulling the door shut behind her quickly.
Not fast enough though, because as she closed it, Zander had already been pulling his T-shirt up over his head. She practically fainted from blood loss as her core warmed and sent it all rushing between her legs. The sight of his rippling abs, disappearing below the waist of his jeans, made her knees tremble. She rested heavily on the doorknob for a moment as it finished closing.
Holy hell he’s hot.
But he was more than hot, wasn’t he? He was courteous and polite, smart, well-traveled.
So why the hell was he interested in her?
Her mind scrambled itself with thoughts as she waited for him to change.
But when he stepped through in the black suit, black dress shirt, and shoes to match, Riss nearly hurled herself at him. He looked good. There was no other way to put it. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of the suit just enough. The arms and chest filled it out as well, draping over his Herculean body with delicious appeal.
“How do I look?” he asked her.
“Good,” she squeaked, eyes devouring the way the pants hugged his ass as he turned in place. “It fits well,” she added.
“So it will suffice then?” he asked, squaring up in front of her.
“Suffice for…what?”
“As my outfit while I escort you around town this evening,” he stated, as if it was already a given.
“Pardon?” she asked, eyes blinking rapidly. “Did you just ask me on a date?”
The big dragon shifter’s eyebrows narrowed. “I did. Is that acceptable to you?”
Riss rocked back on her heels in surprise, both at the offer and the forthrightness of it.
“Ah, well, I don’t normally date customers,” she said lamely.
What are you doing?! Say yes, you fool! Right now!
She wanted to, but there was still that little tingling at the base of her skull, as if something about it all was wrong. Why was he showing so much interest in her, a nobody human working at some little store in Cadia?