Luck of the Dragon (Entangled Covet)

by Scott, Susannah

  Lucy took a sip of her excellent red wine. Alec’s next time statement annoyed her. It wobbled precariously on top of no other women, on top of the million-dollar uncut sapphire—it all seemed a Jenga game of fairy tales bound to topple.

  “Tell me more about Lucy De Luca.” Alec ran his hand down her arm to the pulse at her wrist. It jumped under his finger. “What do you enjoy?”

  “Besides spas and priceless jewels?” The words flew out of her mouth like a shield. They needed to get things straight between them. This was a fling—a fling to remember for the rest of her life—but a fling nonetheless.

  Alec frowned. “I’ve offended you somehow?”

  “I just…” Lucy sighed. “I’m okay with all this.” She waved her hands around the room. “As long as you don’t pretend there’s some kind of next time, happily-ever-after at the end.”

  Alec leaned toward her and she leaned away.

  “I grew up with con artists and grifters. My father went to the pen. My brother…” Lucy swallowed and refocused. “My brother will probably wind up there, too. I can’t live in a fairy tale.” She watched his face and smiled, trying to soften her words. “I’m attracted to you. Can’t that be enough?”

  Alec said nothing, and his face gave her no hint as to what he thought about her speech.

  A waiter arrived to take their order, cutting off any further talk. “Kefta tangine with lamb and couscous to share,” Alec ordered in a smooth baritone. They had already agreed on their dinner choice.

  “Yes, Mr. Gerald.” The waiter set dates and olives on the table and left as soundlessly as he’d arrived.

  Alec turned his wine stem in his fingers, seeming to watch the ruby red sparkle in the candlelight. Silence stretched between them. Lucy shifted on her cushion, kicked off her strappy shoes, and crossed her legs at the ankles. The only sounds in the room were candles crackling and sinuous Middle Eastern music. Lucy plopped a dense and sugary date in her mouth and chewed.

  Still Alec did not speak.

  This was getting ridiculous. What kind of man pouted over a no-strings-attached clause to getting laid? Lucy pressed her lips shut against the one hundred placating words piling up on her tongue. It must be that no one had ever told him no. She wasn’t saying no, just no games. He should appreciate her practicality.

  Geesh.

  “Tell me about your mother,” Alec said.

  “What?” Lucy’s head whipped toward him. “My mother? I didn’t mention her.”

  “Exactly,” Alec said. “How did she handle your father going to prison?”

  Lucy took a slow sip of her wine. Just the mention of the penitentiary was enough to put most people off talking about her family. “She worked as a maid downtown when she could get out of bed.”

  Alec nodded. “How old were you?”

  “Twelve.”

  “And your brother?”

  “We’re twins.”

  “Ah.” Alec nodded, and Lucy wondered what he was inferring.

  Embarrassment crawled up her back like marching spiders. Alec seemed to peer into her past, seeing the poverty and desolation. This was why she didn’t like talking about her family. She always felt ashamed, like she needed to explain that she had a made a different life. She wasn’t like that anymore.

  She. Was. Different.

  But was she? Alec-pilfered thumbprint was in play somewhere.

  “You’re a strong and admirable woman.” Alec’s words were soft, as if he sensed her discomfiture.

  Lucy drained the remaining wine from her glass. She rolled the tart sweetness over her tongue and looked away from his searching gaze.

  “Yes, I am.” And she believed it—most of the time.

  A group of waiters arrived and laid out their meal. Cinnamon and cloves mingled with the scent of succulent meat. Her stomach growled appreciatively. She glanced at Alec with renewed enthusiasm. “Yum.”

  Alec laughed, the tense moment gone. “You’ve never had Moroccan food?”

  “No.”

  Lucy ate as much as she dared. On cue with her last bite, a bevy of belly-dancing beauties entered the room, their hips shaking in time with live drums. The women were dark and gorgeous, fleshier than most tummy-baring Vegas gals. Their colorful veils hid their mouths, but not their dark, seductive eyes. On their fingers, cymbals chimed in time with the sway of their bodies.

  Lucy watched them shimmy, impressed with their abandon. Their purple-veiled leader approached her and beckoned for Lucy to join them, but Lucy shook her head.

  Then the woman moved to Alec. She took her time, shaking her hips with a demanding rhythm. Look at me, her hips screamed. Alec leaned back against the wall. The woman took this as an encouragement, stepped over his lap, and dropped to her knees. All Lucy could see was her mostly bare back and undulating arms and hips.

  Lucy’s stomach churned around her meal, and she cast her eyes for a place to stare. What did she expect? Alec was like catnip to women—they threw themselves at him, and he didn’t seem to mind.

  The drums stopped and Lucy looked at the pair. Alec said something to the woman and she ran her hand slowly down his chest, snaking her fingertips between the buttons of his shirt to his skin. She whispered something back before standing and shimmying out of the room with the rest of the harem.

  Alec met her gaze, unflinching and direct. “We should try the hookah before we go.”

  “You mean the hooker?” Her question had a bite she hadn’t intended to show.

  Alec poured more wine into their glasses. “That talented woman did not want to be paid for her charms.”

  “I bet.”

  He picked up her clenched hand and kissed it, letting the tip of his tongue caress the grooves between her knuckles. Lucy saw sparks, literally, and tried to pull away. He held her hand tight until she looked at him.

  “I told you could trust me.” His voice held aggravated certainty.

  Lucy watched his face, searching for the microscopic tells that always gave a person away. There were none. Alec’s face was impassive, and his dark blue eyes were only keenly interested in her response. This was a man who kept his cards close. She shouldn’t bet against him. She could lose more than casino chips.

  She could lose her heart.

  Their waiter entered the room, carrying a violin-shaped pot with a gold hose coiled on the neck. He set it on the table and cleared their dishes. “Your hookah, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Alec said. “A piece of baklava and honey to share, please.” The waiter nodded and left.

  Lucy eyed the steaming contraption.

  “It’s a water pipe.” Alec uncoiled the hose and inhaled from the end before blowing a small smoke ring above the table. The ring widened, and he blew another inside it. Ring after ring floated to the ceiling in an apricot-smelling haze.

  “What’s in it?” she asked.

  “Just tobacco.” Alec handed her the pipe. “Nothing illegal.”

  Lucy’s hand hovered in the air. She wanted to try it but sensed a bit of dare in his expression. He was testing her. This was her Rubicon—that unspoken, but always noted, point of no return.

  Lucy reached for the end of the hose, pulled smoke into her lungs, and exhaled. Sweetness spread across her tongue, and warmth spread through her limbs. There were two things she was certain of—she wanted this man, and it would end soon. Lucy leaned back and tried to mimic Alec’s smoke rings, but her exhale only looked like a street corner puff into a strong wind. The waiter returned and set a piece of triangular pastry and an old-fashioned honey pot on the table.

  “Thank you,” Alec said. The man left and shut the door firmly behind him.

  Alec picked up the pastry and bit off the end. He held a corner to her mouth. “Try it.”

  Lucy set aside the water pipe and bit off her end. Honey and walnuts and buttered pastry mixed on her tongue with the apricot smoke. “It’s good.”

  Alec opened the honey pot and dribbled honey over the remaining pastry. He offered it to
her and she took another bite, and then watched him finish the last piece.

  “You have honey on your lip.” He leaned forward and licked the corner of her mouth. His tongue was hot and abrading. Lucy put both hands to his face and kissed him deeply, letting her tongue roll over his. Heat burned in the pit of her stomach.

  Alec pulled her onto his lap. “Do you feel the connection between us?”

  Lucy nuzzled up his face. His whiskers scraped against her skin, and the evidence of his arousal pushed between her legs. “Oh, yes. It’s big, too.”

  Alec frowned, and then gave her a patient, small-steps look. “Well, there is that.”

  …

  From the restaurant, they went to see le Dragon, the Crown Jewel’s multi-million dollar production. Vegas locals said a show only had to put the French le in front of something to get $200 a ticket. But sitting next to Alec on his private balcony, Lucy thought the show was “le” magnifique.

  From their plush couch, she could see the whites of the dancers’ eyes and practically feel their pulsing heartbeats. She sat up straight, her fingers intertwined loosely with Alec’s, transfixed by the acrobatics and athleticism.

  In the middle of the opening act, ten elaborately costumed actors leaped into the air and turned into SUV-sized dragons. The audience screamed and cowered under their seats. Lucy was prepared for them after Alec’s entrance at the casino’s opening, but still she scrambled closer to him and grabbed his shirt sleeve.

  “They aren’t real?” Her eyes snapped to Alec’s face for confirmation of what she already knew. Of course they were mechanical, but they did seem oh, so real…

  Alec kissed her lightly on the nose. “Do you want me to ruin it for you?” His lack of concern, more than his words, reassured her.

  She smiled and scooted back to her side on the couch. “Hell of a way to get a girl on your lap.”

  Alec laughed and ran a hand down her hip. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  Around them, the audience’s alarm shifted to astonishment, then amazement, as they came to the same conclusion she had. The dragons were an amazing feat of theater.

  One by one, the people began to clap until their hands pounded with a deafening beat. They were unified in their excitement, as symbiotic an experience as a sold-out theater full of people could ever hope to share.

  Lucy clapped her hands, too. The dragons soared in figure-eight patterns over the auditorium, a mythical rainbow of blue, reds, yellows, and greens. Lighter colors lined their eyes, tail ridges, and wing tips. Their air show rivaled the grace of the Russian ballet and daring of the Air Force Blue Angels.

  Lucy let her mouth sag, closing it only when it grew dry. She gripped Alec’s hand and spoke not another word, completely lost in the developing tale of an ambitious young man who hid his secret life as a dragon from those he loved.

  The live orchestra music throbbed through her veins, making her bones and blood seem an extension of the instruments. Periodically, the dragons returned to the stage and became high-flying acrobats and roller skating clowns, flipping and skidding around the constantly moving stage.

  When the lights came up, everyone remained seated and silent. Then they jumped to their feet, yelling and clapping. Lucy joined them, clapping her swollen hands. Alec stood beside her, relaxed, as if seeing flying dragons was an everyday occurrence for him.

  “That was amazing.” Lucy grabbed his arm. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Not too exhausted, I hope.” Alec’s hand slipped to her waist and he pulled her close to him. “Did you understand the story?”

  There had been no dialogue, only music and facial expressions to tell the story. “I’m not sure I got the ending. Did everyone accept that he was a dragon?”

  “I like to think so.” Alec led her from the balcony with a gentle hand at her elbow. “Everyone loves a happy ending.” The crowd parted around them. The tourists didn’t need to be told that he was the owner of the casino to know to get out of his way.

  Lucy walked across the bejeweled lobby and into Alec’s private elevator, happiness in her every step. She stood away from the clear glass and had no trouble pretending it was six inches of steel. She wanted to freeze time, remember every detail for later when she was alone. Even the surety of an abrupt and probable bad ending for her and Alec didn’t dim her euphoria.

  Alec leaned against the wall of windows with confident nonchalance and wrapped a hand around her waist. The move tucked her closer to his side, so that his suit jacket draped her back in a protective cocoon. Body heat radiated from him and sent her heart tripping. The Vegas lights shone through the glass, red and blue and gold, illuminating the contoured edge of his jaw. The slight stubble there made him look darkly sexy and mysterious.

  “Neon becomes you.” Lucy’s words were easy and joking.

  Alec glanced at her as the elevator stopped, and the door opened. “Shall we stay here then?” His hand squeezed her waist.

  “I’ve never made out in an elevator.”

  Alec pushed the red stop button, but no annoying alarm sounded. He wrapped her in his arms.

  “We can fix that.” He trailed a hand up the inside of her dress.

  Hot desire spiraled through Lucy. Below them, the Vegas Strip pulsed with activity. Vertigo spun Lucy’s head, making her feel like she would fall, so she held onto Alec’s arms. Alec brought his face closer to hers and inhaled the air from her throat before placing a lingering kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The rush of air followed by his warm mouth sent shivers dancing down her spine.

  “Next time…” Lucy’s words sounded breathy.

  “Next time.” His eyes had lost none of their intensity, but Alec smiled and tilted her chin up. “I like the sound of that.”

  Alec stepped back and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and leading her into his apartment. Inside, he released her and crossed to the bar. He pulled out a bottle and poured amber liquid into a glass. “Scotch?”

  “Oh, please.” Lucy turned a full circle in the middle of the sunken living room. Moonlight sparkled through the glass wall, and the hustle and bustle of the casino and the Strip now seemed far, far away.

  “I think this has been the most amazing date I have ever been on.”

  “You think?” Alec handed her a glass, and she took a sip of first-rate single malt scotch with two ice cubes and no water. “Or you know?”

  “I know.” The words brought a small lump to the back of her throat. Wherever she went from here, she would always have Alec in her memory. Always comparing every man to him. “This day has been amazing. You’ve been amazing.”

  “Tell me what you liked the most.” Alec stepped past her and sat on a leather couch with his ankle crossed at the knee. He seemed to be putting more than just physical distance between them. After his closeness in the elevator, he seemed much too far way.

  “I like right now.” Lucy walked toward him, sipped, savored the drink, and swallowed. “No distractions, just you and me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Alec shifted on the couch, forcing air into his lungs, trying to control his dragon. Lucy comparing their night to other dates infuriated his dragon instincts. Irrational jealousy exploded in his head, even as raw desire sliced through his gut and burned to his groin. It took every bit of his learned willpower to keep himself under control, to keep from jumping on Lucy, ripping the sexy dress off, and making her his.

  His human self wanted Lucy with feral intensity, but his dragon…

  His dragon wanted to snatch her up and take to the sky.

  That might not be quite the end to the most-amazing-evening Lucy had in mind.

  “Lucy, you asked me before to slow things down between us.” Alec forced his foot not to jiggle on his knee. “There’s no need for us to rush things.” He forced the words through his lips even as a surge of spiky need hit his blood stream. His beast pulsed under his skin. His dragon’s wings beat against the human bone and flesh, demanding acti
on.

  Fly. Take her. She is yours…

  “Slow things down?” Lucy looked suddenly uncertain, as if the needle had jumped off her most-amazing-date record. “You didn’t write hot sex into my contract?”

  Her words were like a gut punch. And his mind immediately painted a picture of naked limbs and silk sheets.

  “No.”

  …

  Lucy set her drink on the bar and frowned. Alec watched her from the couch, his body still, and his poker face gave nothing away. Surely she had not misread his cues all evening? She untied the side of her dress. The wrap fell open; her sexy white lingerie gleamed against her skin in the moonlight.

  Still Alec didn’t move.

  “You aren’t interested now?” She wanted to sound vampish, but her voice trembled with uncertainty. “Was I too easy…you know before, in the spa?” She pulled the sides of the dress around her stomach protectively.

  Alec dropped his foot and sat forward. “Lucy, I want you more than anything.”

  “Then why are you just sitting there?” Lucy fought to keep her smile playful. She knew the hurt of rejection showed in her expression, but she would not turn and run. He would have to say the words.

  Then she would leave. Disappointment sucked at her heart. It would probably be for the best.

  Alec drank deeply from his glass before setting it aside. “I want to be sure that you are ready for things between us.”

  “I am taking my clothes off here.” Lucy pulled apart the dress to show him one more time what he was missing. “How much more ready do I have to be?” She walked up to him and brushed her leg against his knee. A crackle of electricity moved up her thigh.

  She leaned in harder.

  Alec inhaled. His eyes met hers, then wandered down her body slowly. The hair on Lucy’s arms stood on end, but his lack of initiative doused her desire.

  She chewed on her lip and stepped back. “Just say it…You’ve changed your mind.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind—”

  “Then what?” Lucy tied her dress back on, hot humiliation whirling through her head. “You suddenly realized that I’m not one of your models after all?”