by Donna Grant
Striking hazel eyes took in all with a glance. Everyone attempted to gain her attention just to have her look their way.
Her oval face and full, pouty lips had men and women alike panting after her. She wore some expensive dress. While Dorian didn’t care about the brand, he quite liked how the fabric molded to her hourglass figure.
He didn’t want to like her. In fact, he’d taken an instant aversion once he learned of her fortune. Dorian knew full well how mortals liked to acquire social standing through their wealth.
Except...he’d formed an opinion of Alexandra before he’d even seen her in person. Walking around the charity event, all he’d heard was praise about her. If anyone spoke negatively, it was because they coveted her wealth—or her—and nothing more.
To find a human who wasn’t corrupt or deceitful in some way was an oddity. Everyone had some failing. And he intended to find out what Ms. Sheridan’s was so he could use it against her to acquire the artifact.
He finished with the event host, and with a nod, turned to locate his purchased date. When Con originally told Dorian he was going to have to bid on Alexandra to get a date with her, he thought it ridiculous.
Then he learned from Ryder that Alexandra Sheridan didn’t date. Anyone.
Her last boyfriend had been over four years ago, and it had ended in a scandal when he tried to sell her grandmother’s heirloom gold candlesticks. Apparently, Alexandra knew he’d stolen them, but she hadn’t called the police. It wasn’t until after he was discovered that she pressed charges.
Why hadn’t she immediately called the authorities? Why had she let him get away with it?
Dorian discovered the answer to that just by observing her. She was courteous and polite, but she kept herself detached from others.
Her assistant, a beautiful black woman with large, expressive eyes that could cut a person in their tracks, was always near Alexandra, putting herself between the world and her boss.
There was also a four-man security detail. They didn’t bother trying to blend in. They stood out in their black suits with their white shirts and black ties and earpieces, looking imposing and threatening.
Dorian wanted to laugh. There wasn’t anyone in the room—hell, in the world—that could stop him from getting to Alexandra Sheridan.
His gaze scanned the large room of men in tuxes and women dressed in evening wear draped in jewels until he caught sight of Alexandra’s blond locks.
He had to admit that he quite liked her hair. She didn’t hide her curls. In fact, she embraced them. Whether on purpose or accident, the coils fell around her face and neck from the soft updo.
She wore impressive diamond earrings that dropped down to brush against her bare shoulders. There was a diamond bracelet on her left wrist while a large diamond ring adorned her right hand.
Her gaze suddenly lifted and met his. Just as when she had looked his way after he’d won the bid, there was a beat of unease before she quickly masked it.
Alexandra Sheridan didn’t know it yet, but her world was about to get turned upside down.
Dorian made his way toward her. He didn’t have to move around others. They parted to let him through. He never took his eyes off his mark. He wanted her to know that she was his—so that she would realize trying to run was futile.
In less than a week since being woken, he was standing in a room of his enemies and he hadn’t killed anyone. Yet. Con would be proud. Hell, he was proud of himself.
It was easy since no one got near him, but that would change when he met Alexandra for their “date.” It had been literally eons since he’d wooed anyone. Now he had to do it with one of the beings that he despised with every fiber of his soul.
But it was for Con and the rest of his brethren.
He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—say no to that.
As he neared Alexandra, she squared her shoulders and stood straight, her clutch held in one hand while her other grasped a champagne flute. It wasn’t one of her genuine smiles that she bestowed upon him. But rather one that was polite, fake.
And that angered him.
“Hello,” she said when he stopped before her. “I believe you shocked everyone with your bid. Thank you for your generosity. The funds will go a long way to helping veterans in need.”
A dozen replies filled his head and fell upon his tongue, but he said none of them. For they would get him nowhere with the heiress.
Instead, he crafted another reply. One that would charm her, just as Con had urged him to do.
Dorian took a deep breath, and inwardly winced when he heard the words that fell from his lips. “Do I scare you, Ms. Sheridan?”
She blinked, utterly taken aback. “I...of course not.”
“Your eyes say otherwise.” He might not have meant to ask her such a question, but her response certainly intrigued him.
She glanced at her assistant, who had moved a few steps away. Alexandra then sighed. “I don’t run across men like you.”
“Men like me?” he repeated. “In a kilt?”
“With such blatant intention in their gaze,” she said in a whisper, glancing around to see if others heard her.
Honesty. How about that? It was Dorian’s turn to be taken aback. “Based on the way the bidding was going for you, there were quite a few men who let their intentions be known.”
“I’ve not seen you around before.”
“I’m new to the area.”
She nodded. “What do you think of us?”
“You really want to know?”
“I do,” she replied after a brief hesitation.
Dorian shifted to look back at the humans, all of whom were either outright staring, or trying to covertly look their way. “I think this is a room full of people with too much bloody money, but at least they’re giving some of it to a worthwhile cause.”
“What of your money?”
His head swung back to meet her hazel gaze. He grinned then. “I’m happy to give it away.”
She held out her hand. “Alexandra Sheridan. Nice to meet you.”
“Dorian,” he replied as he took her hand in his.
He didn’t shake it or kiss it. He simply held it while staring into her eyes.
“Dorian,” she repeated. “No surname?”
He smiled and released her. “I believe I won a date with you, Ms. Sheridan. When would you like to go?”
Alexandra looked to her assistant, who quickly closed the distance separating them and handed Alexandra an iPad with a schedule pulled up.
“I’ve got an opening in two weeks,” she told him.
That would never do. Not only did Dorian have serious reservations about remaining that long among mortals, but he wanted this mission completed as quickly as possible.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
Her assistant snorted, a smug look on her face as she looked at Dorian. He ignored her as his gaze slid to Alexandra, who was frowning at him.
“Tomorrow? Um...that’s not a good day for me.”
“Perhaps that’s your problem, lass,” he said. “You need to do something for you instead of for others.”
She blinked twice, her frown deepening. “I can’t just cancel plans.”
“People do it all the time,” he retorted.
Her assistant lowered the iPad, confident that Alexandra would remain unmovable.
Dorian, however, wasn’t going to go down that easily. “When was the last time you had a day just for you?” he asked.
Alexandra briefly looked away. “It’s been awhile. Then again, I won’t really have a day just for me. I’ll be with you.”
“Only for a few hours.”
There was a lengthy pause as Alexandra stared at him. Then she said, “Meg, move my schedule around tomorrow.”
“Alex?” Meg questioned, her face lined with confusion. “Are you sure?”
She looked to Meg and nodded. “I owe Dorian his date, and since he isn’t from around here, I don’t want to keep him waiting. It’s
just courtesy to give him what he demands.”
“Thank you,” Dorian said with a bow of his head.
He then opened the mental link and called Ryder’s name. The Dragon King, who was also a tech guru in the truest sense of the word, answered immediately.
“Everything all right?”
Dorian smiled at Alex. “Aye. I have a date with Alexandra Sheridan tomorrow. Let Con know that I’ll be ready to return home in the next few days.”
“Are you sure you want to rush this?” Ryder asked. “It has been awhile since you’ve used your charm.”
“I can handle it. There’s no need to prolong this. I’m with her now. I’ll do a walkthrough of her house tonight as I’d planned. If the opportunity is there, I’ll take the object.”
“I wanted you to offer for it first. Besides, she’ll know it’s you.”
“So?”
“So that means she’ll track you to Dreagan, dumbass. We doona need that scrutiny now.”
Dorian sighed. “Fine. But I think it’s silly to even have me meet her.”
“We explained this before you left.”
“Aye, I know. We’re no’ thieves,” Dorian replied, cutting him off. “If you had gone with my plan, no one would’ve seen me or been able to trace anything back to Dreagan. Just relay my message to Con.”
Dorian cut off the link. He didn’t think the plan Con and Ryder had come up with was doable, but that was probably because he didn’t like mortals.
But the Dragon Kings had worked long and hard to craft their current image. The least he could do was keep in line with that. So he’d give Con’s plan a go. If that didn’t work, he would fall back to Plan B.
Dorian smiled when he spotted Meg giving him a dark look. The assistant didn’t like that he’d so easily manipulated Alex to change her schedule. That was too bad, but Meg needed to get used to it.
“Why me?”
Dorian had forgotten that he was standing with Alex. There had been a comfortable silence—at least on his part. “Excuse me?”
“Why did you buy me? There are dozens of other women up for bid tonight. And you probably should have gotten one of them, because if you think I’m going to give you an-”
“I doona assume anything, Ms. Sheridan,” he said. “If I’d wanted a woman to warm my bed, I wouldna have to buy them.”
She licked her lips.
“As for why I chose you,” he continued. “It’s because I want to know the woman who spends her life in New York society, but who doesna let anyone close.”
“I fear you’ll be disappointed then,” she stated coolly.
He grinned. “Oh, I doubt that. Besides, I’ve learned quite a lot about you already.”
Chapter Three
He stood atop the skyscraper, lifted his face to the wind, and closed his eyes. Dorian loved the sun, but there was something magical about nighttime.
The moon, the stars...the darkness.
With a sigh, he opened his eyes and grimaced at the sounds of sirens, honking horns, and just general noise that reached him.
New York City was too loud and too harsh for him. He wanted to cover his ears. Or fly up so high that he couldn’t hear the dreadful racket.
He longed for the quiet of Dreagan. Where the only sounds were those of his brethren. If only it was the beat of wings or the roars of other dragons. Now those sounds he loved with all his heart.
Dorian used his magic and made himself invisible before shifting. The long talons of his feet sank into the stone, causing bits to crumble. He let himself fall to the side and immediately spread his wings.
Many of the buildings were too close so he had to fly sideways, but he still wound his way through the city. He gazed down at the people knowing how easy it would be to let loose dragon fire and wipe them away.
Nothing was hotter than dragon fire. The mortals would die before they even knew what hit them.
It was so tempting. So very, very tempting.
It was humans who had destroyed the dragons’ way of life. It was the magic-less, weak mortals who had taken away everything he’d known and loved.
Dorian knew Con wanted to remain hidden and not bring about another war with the humans. But no matter how many times Dorian told himself to let go of his anger, he couldn’t.
His dragons had been more than his clan. Each and every one of them had been family—whether they were blood or not. He relived the day he’d ordered them to follow the others off the realm over and over again. And each time was like pouring salt into a wound.
More so knowing that the land that had been his to rule, the land that his dragons had called home, was now occupied by humans.
This realm was the dragons’.
Not the mortals’.
The more he flew around the city, the more he saw the destructive, weak actions of the mortals, the more he knew the realm would be better off without them.
He drew in a deep breath, ready to release his dragon fire when he spotted blond curls. Dorian knew immediately that it was Alexandra Sheridan without seeing either Meg who walked beside her, or the four bodyguards who surrounded her.
All thoughts of death evaporated. Dorian swung around to follow Alex after she got into the car and drove away. He knew where she lived, but he kept pace with her.
When they reached the Sheridan building, he perched on the top and watched as her door was opened by one of the guards before one long, slim leg emerged from the vehicle.
Once she was out, another bodyguard came to stand on the other side of the door, flanking her. Alex took a step and then Meg climbed out. In a blink, the other two guards brought up the rear.
Dorian snorted at the thought of such a show just ten steps outside of the building. But no sooner had that thought gone through his head than someone rushed toward Alex.
Two of the guards stopped the male assailant while the other two got Alex inside. Dorian frowned when he saw the light glint off a long blade in the attacker’s hand before he was forced to drop it.
Dorian watched as a police car drove up with lights flashing, tires skidding as the vehicle quickly stopped. The man was placed in handcuffs and ceremoniously hauled off in the cruiser.
Only then did Dorian’s mind turn back to Alex. He’d intended to come when everyone had gone to bed, but he found himself curious about how Alex was handling the attack.
Dorian returned to his human form, though he remained invisible. He scaled down the side of the building until he reached the balcony. Alex’s home took up the entire top floor, with the balcony encompassing the entire building.
It wasn’t a skinny terrace either. It was spacious. Some parts had lounge areas with chairs and fire pits. Other portions were dedicated to various plants and potted trees.
He made his way around the balcony looking in windows. From what little he’d witnessed from the wealthy, he expected the decorations to be garish and tacky. Yet he discovered that Alexandra preferred a homier style.
The couch had creases in brown leather from years of use. There was a large TV hanging on the wall and a white furry rug that filled the space between the TV and the couch.
On the end tables and coffee tables were succulents—some of the plants big and some of the smaller ones clustered together. On either side of the television were shelves filled with so many movies that he wondered if she had actually watched them all.
A beige and white pillow sat against one corner of the couch along with a fur throw in shades of beige, white, and brown.
The room looked to be well used, and obviously one that Alex enjoyed. When Dorian moved around to the dining area, he could tell this wasn’t a room that saw a lot of use.
The glass-topped table had eight chairs covered in white fabric. The base of the table looked like two column toppers.
Behind the dining area was the kitchen. It was immaculate, like everything else. Black stainless steel appliances, a double refrigerator, white quartz countertops with pale cabinets. The bar had three stoo
ls tucked neatly away.
Dorian continued on until he found three empty bedrooms and then an office—once more with nothing out of place. Not even a piece of paper on the desk.
Next, he found Alex in her bedroom. She sat on a large, round stool in her closet while taking off her shoes. Meg was pacing back and forth, obviously upset over the attack.
But Alex didn’t seem fazed by any of it. She put away her shoes and stood. Then she told Meg she was done for the day. His advanced hearing picked up the soft words through the windows. His gaze shifted to the assistant, who gave a nod and walked to the door. Meg paused and looked over her shoulder. Alex gave her a smile and a wave of reassurance.
It wasn’t until Meg was out of the flat that Alex walked to the large windows and moved aside the sheer curtains. Then she opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the balcony.
Dorian moved out of the way as she walked to the railing. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out over the city, but he didn’t think she was seeing the lights or the skyline.
It began with a tremor that he thought was a chill caused by the night air. Then the first tear fell. It wasn’t long before her shoulders shook from the force of her crying. Alex dropped her chin to her chest and covered her face with her hands as she wept.
He stood with her, unsure of why he didn’t move away. There was something about her silent suffering that touched him. For once, his constant anger paused, allowing his grief and misery to surface.
For those few minutes, two people stood in the moonlight, sunk in misery and heartache—and utterly alone in a city of millions.
Suddenly, she sniffed and lifted her head as she let her arms fall to her sides. Her gaze stared out over the skyscrapers while the tears on her face dried. Then she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, as if finding her footing in the storm of emotions.
She turned and made her way back inside. He watched her head toward the bathroom wondering if she left the door open on purpose or not.
He slipped inside and made his way to the portion of the house he hadn’t seen yet. His feet paused when he spotted her taking off her makeup. It was an ordinary chore, but one he hadn’t witnessed before. He took in the array of many bottles on the counter, watching as she picked up one after the other to use.