by Donna Grant
He shook himself, remembering why he was there. He walked past the bathroom. The cameras—both seen and unseen—were everywhere. He was glad Ryder had taught him what to look for. Otherwise, there would be many places he wouldn’t know a camera sat. But with his invisibility, he was able to move about undetected.
Ryder had cautioned him that some equipment was based on body temperature, so Dorian couldn’t just stroll through the artifacts.
When he turned the corner and saw the room, he halted. It was like walking into a museum. Some pieces were encased in Plexiglas on a column with the name of the artifact and all information below it. Others hung on the wall or were in a large case with other artifacts.
Dorian walked through the first lasers and waited for the alarms to sound. When nothing happened, he made his way through the maze of objects until he found the piece he’d come for. The pictures Ryder and Con had showed him didn’t do it justice.
It was an oblong object of about six inches in length. Dorian didn’t care what was on the artifact. He simply wanted to get it and bring it back to Scotland so Con and the others could figure out what to do.
Dorian knew he wasn’t leaving the city without it. Con wanted him to do things one way. Well, Dorian would try his king’s plan. But if it didn’t work, he was going to do this his way.
He retraced his steps, uncaring about the other items. Just as he was heading out of Alex’s room, he heard water. His head turned toward the bathroom and he caught a glimpse in the mirror of a long arm with suds sliding down it.
His feet turned, and before he realized it, he stood in the bathroom looking at Alex with her curls piled on her head and her body covered with bubbles. Her head was back against the tub with her eyes shut. Music played from somewhere.
In one short night, he’d seen many sides of Alexandra Sheridan. And if he had to guess, the one he witnessed at that moment wasn’t one that she showed anyone. The lonely, despondent side was kept carefully tucked away from others.
Much like his emotions.
In some ways, she was as trapped as the Dragon Kings. He didn’t like making that connection, but there was no denying it. Her wealth and standing forced her into circumstances beyond her control. Just as the Kings still experienced.
Her eyes suddenly opened and looked right at him. He saw the flecks of gold in her hazel orbs, a curious and beguiling mix of green, gold, and brown.
He couldn’t help but wonder what she would do if she knew he was there. What would she say? The openness, the vulnerability she wore now would vanish. Her mask of indifference, kindness, or strength would return.
Dorian knew all about masks. He’d been wearing once since he walked from his mountain a week ago. Inside, he raged, he seethed. And he plotted.
Behind Alex’s mask, he saw something different. Loneliness, fear, and acceptance of her position.
He didn’t realize his hand reached for her until his fingers brushed one of her curls. Dorian snatched his hand back and quickly turned on his heel.
Without a backward glance, he strode out onto the balcony and shifted. His wings spread as he jumped, launching himself into the air to head back to the swanky Dreagan residence just down the road from Alex.
Dorian landed on the roof and regrettably returned to the hated human form. He dropped his invisibility and walked naked through the door that led down to the apartment.
Dreagan owned the entire building, renting out thirty floors. But the top ten floors were all Dreagan. The top three were residences. Dorian chose the penthouse because he liked being as close to the clouds as he could get.
He made his way into the apartment and stood naked in the moonlight streaming in through the glass wall of the living room.
The lights of the city made it impossible to see the stars. It was another reason to hate New York. But at least he could bask in the glow of the moonlight.
He lowered himself to the floor and closed his eyes, his mind drifting. And to his utter horror, he found himself thinking about Alexandra Sheridan.
Chapter Four
Dorian. Who just had a first name?
There was Adele, Pink, Prince, and Eminem. There was even Fabio. But Dorian? No matter how hard Alex tried, she couldn’t think why he wouldn’t reveal his last name.
Even when she called the charity to ask how he paid, he simply gave them two names. Dorian. And Dreagan.
That had taken her aback. Everyone, whether they drank Scotch or not, knew Dreagan. It was one of the most recognizable brands of liquor around the world.
After learning that tidbit, it hadn’t taken Alex long to make a connection between the two. Within minutes of doing a search on Dorian and Dreagan Industries, her cell phone rang.
Alex frowned when she saw the odd number. She’d placed enough international calls to recognize one when it popped up on her screen. Hesitantly, she answered the phone.
“Alexandra Sheridan, please,” said a man with a deep Scottish accent similar to Dorian’s.
“Speaking. How may I help you?”
“I’m Ryder calling from Dreagan Industries.”
A chill went up Alex’s spine. She couldn’t help but think that somehow Ryder had known she was searching about Dorian. It was conspiracy theory crazy, but it was much more feasible than just coincidence.
“I wanted to let you know that Dorian is part of Dreagan,” Ryder continued. “In case you were wondering about our connection.”
“Why would you tell me that?” She had to know if he was spying on her.
Alex glanced at the camera on her laptop and realized that the cover she had on it had somehow fallen off. She quickly put her finger over the camera—just in case someone from Dreagan had hacked her computer.
Ryder chuckled. “I apologize. I can only imagine how all of this sounds. It was too late to place the call yesterday, otherwise Dreagan would have put your mind at ease last night. Dorian does things a wee bit different, and in today’s world that puts some people off.”
“In other words, he really wants to go on this date with me?” she said, frowning. She was perturbed, and she couldn’t figure out why.
“Dreagan is a multi-billion dollar company, Miss Sheridan. We’re all too aware of how important it is for people to know that they’re dealing with those from Dreagan, and no’ an imposter.”
“Tell me Dorian’s last name, then.” She was going to get it one way or another.
There was a beat of silence. “He gave it, Miss Sheridan. It’s Dreagan.”
Dorian Dreagan. She repeated the name in her head several times, but it didn’t sound right no matter how many times she said it. “I see.”
“I willna take up more of your time. I hope you and Dorian have a pleasant time today.”
“Thanks,” she said, more out of habit than appreciation.
The call disconnected and she slammed her computer shut. No matter how she looked at it, something was definitely fishy about Dorian. If only she could figure out what it was.
She glanced at the time and groaned. Already she was running late. She loathed being tardy to anything—even a date she wasn’t sure about.
And she hated that it was being called a date.
Through her shower and blow-drying her hair she couldn’t stop thinking about Dorian and the call from Dreagan. Usually, she could figure out someone’s angle or lie fairly quickly, but she was well and truly stumped.
She applied her makeup with more attention than she’d taken in years. And that only irritated her further. Why should she care what Dorian thought of her?
“Dorian Dreagan,” she said with a snort. “Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.”
Still, she dressed, applied a bit of perfume to her inner wrists and behind her ears. Then she stood before her jewelry armoire.
There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds aplenty, but she shunned them except for formal events. Alex chose a simple gold necklace with small starfish her father had given her and gold bar stud earrin
gs. She put on the gold T bar bracelet from Tiffany last.
A glance at her watch showed that she had only minutes to spare before she went down to her driver. After a look in the full-length mirror, Alex grabbed her purse and headed to the elevator.
With every floor the elevator descended, her nerves tightened until she was in knots. Then she stepped out of the elevator and walked to the doors, where her stomach dropped to her feet at the sight of Dorian leaning casually against her car.
There was no turning away because his gaze snagged hers through the glass doors. It was as if he’d known she was getting off the elevator.
She gave herself just a moment to admire him. Dorian had been dashing and entirely sexual in his kilt. Today he looked relaxed, but still oozed sex appeal, in dark jeans and a white button-down that showcased his extremely broad shoulders.
At this rate, she was beginning to think that there wasn’t anything he could wear that didn’t make him look mouthwateringly hot.
In the next heartbeat, she wondered what he’d look like if she stripped him of his clothes.
Her face heated and breathing became difficult. Why had her mind gone there?
Because you want a taste of him. Admit it, Alex. He sets your blood on fire.
Damn, but she hated when her subconscious was right. She did want a taste. And a lick.
And a touch.
Many, many touches, in fact.
It didn’t help that he looked like he knew exactly how to make a woman scream in pleasure. It was his eyes. Those soft, sensual brown eyes.
Penetrating and knowing.
She had the inescapable feeling that he could see into her mind and determine her darkest, most wanton desires and bring them to life.
And she was going to spend the next few hours with him. Good God. What had she gotten herself into?
He pushed away from the vehicle, and she realized she’d been staring too long. Alex made her feet move toward him. She reached the doors and they were quickly opened by one of her bodyguards.
“Morning, Miss Alex,” he said.
She glanced at Paul and smiled brightly. “Morning. Thank you and Tim again for last night.”
“It’s our pleasure, ma’am.”
She’d liked Paul immediately. It was probably his Southern accent and manners, but he’d turned out to be one of her best bodyguards. After the attack the previous night, she was relieved to see him.
Her thoughts immediately went to the knife-wielding man, but her gaze was pulled away as someone demanded attention. A shiver went through her when she found Dorian standing before her, his eyes revealing nothing.
She quite liked his eyes. They were a mix of soft brown and amber encircled by a deeper brown bordering on onyx that made them impossible to miss.
His hair was once more pulled back at the base of his neck, and she had the urge to tug loose the leather tie that held the locks and see how long and thick his blond hair was.
“Ready?” Dorian asked and held out his arm.
“Good morning to you as well,” she replied.
One side of his lips curved into a grin. “I didna think you cared about trivial pleasantries.”
In fact, she hated them. Yep. He had to be in her mind. There was no other explanation. Alex sighed and took his arm.
As soon as she did, he said, “Did you sleep well, Alexandra?”
The sound of her name on his lips in that sin-inducing accent made her knees weak. And she made the mistake of looking at him. “I did. You?”
“I thought you might change your mind about today.”
She thought it odd that he didn’t answer her query, but she didn’t push it. “When I give my word, you can trust it.”
“It doesna hurt that you have your driver and four guards tagging along with us,” Dorian said as he walked her to the Range Rover and helped her inside.
She’d wondered if he would bring that up. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re safe with me, lass.”
Her lips parted to answer, but there was no response other than the chills that raced over her skin. He couldn’t know about the night before, but his words still had the desired effect of making her feel that no one would ever harm her when he was near. She got into the vehicle still dazed and looked at him.
Dorian climbed in beside her and shut the door before Paul could take his usual spot next to her. Instead, Paul got in the front seat with Yasser, her driver, while Tim, Leon, and Delroy took the Suburban to follow.
“So, what do you do?” she asked Dorian when he fell silent as they merged with the other cars.
He shrugged, but she saw how his hand had such a tight grip on the door handle that his knuckles were white. “I do whatever is needed.”
“At Dreagan Industries?”
Dorian glanced at her and nodded. “Aye.”
“Do you own it?”
“A part, aye.”
That made her sit up straighter. “Do you actually help in the day-to-day running of the distillery?”
“I do whatever is needed, regardless of what that might be.”
His answer wasn’t exactly a reply, and she had a feeling it was all she was going to get. But that quickly left her mind when they turned left instead of right toward Central Park.
“Yasser, where are we going?”
He looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Dorian changed the plans.”
“And you went with his idea?” she asked in shock.
“Because mine is better,” Dorian replied.
Her head snapped to him. “I don’t like change. I-”
“What I paid handsomely for was a few hours with you, Miss Sheridan,” he interrupted. “The agreement never said that you get to choose the place. In fact, that is left up to me.”
His taking command rankled her. “But I get to choose the time.”
“Aye. And you did that.”
She made decisions. She chose when and where and how she did things. Dorian strolling into her life and disrupting it wasn’t something she wanted a part of.
But it was just for a few hours. So she would endure his company and then she’d never have to see him again.
Alex released a breath and faced forward while her anger simmered. The control she exerted was the only thing that was hers, the one thing she had to get her through each day. To have that taken from her was....
Her thoughts faded as they had pulled up before a building she knew well. Jacques wasn’t just her favorite restaurant, but it was one with amazing views of the city and Central Park.
Maybe she had been hasty in her ire.
And perhaps it wouldn’t hurt her to let someone have a tiny bit of the control she wielded so expertly.
Dorian was out of the vehicle and around the side to open her door before Paul could. Alex took Dorian’s outstretched hand as she climbed from the SUV.
“Trust me,” Dorian whispered.
She glanced at him in surprise, but then they were ushered into the building. To her shock she realized the entire restaurant was deserted.
“It’s ours for the day,” Dorian said. “I thought you might like the privacy.”
“This is”—she looked around at all the empty tables—“perfect.”
A lopsided grin filled Dorian’s face, and she forgot to breathe. What was it about him that compelled her to agree with whatever he wanted? She didn’t want to be with him, but she couldn’t seem to stay away either.
Her attraction to him was so fierce and instantaneous that even now she was powerless to ignore it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Dorian set her off kilter most definitely, but there was something about his somewhat sullen, and definitely brooding, nature that appealed to her.
They were seated and wait staff filed in, led by the maître d’ waiting to take their order. No one had ever done anything remotely like this for her before, and Alex found that she was happy Dorian had taken over.
Her idea of going to the park wh
ere there were other people around to fill in the silences now seemed stupid. Everyone would’ve stared and taken pictures. This was much better. More secluded.
And intimate.
She swallowed, suddenly all too aware that this was in fact a date. And sitting across from her was a handsome Scot who made her feel things she’d rather not experience—especially with him.
Because Dorian wasn’t like any man she’d ever been around before. That both roused her and terrified her.
“I told you to trust me,” Dorian said right before the pop of the champagne bottle.
Chapter Five
She was pleased.
And somehow, Dorian discovered that delighted him. Odd, given how much he hated humans. What was it about this particular female that made him want to do something for her?
Maybe it had been the attack the night before. Perhaps it had been the sight of her crying silently upon her balcony—alone. Whatever it was, he had woken that morning with the idea and made a call to Ryder, who’d discovered her favorite restaurant. After that, it was a matter of just another few calls to get what he wanted.
Dorian looked Alexandra over in her white sundress with the thin straps at her shoulders and the white sandals with the thick heels on her feet. It allowed him to see more of her amazing legs and the bright blue glittery nail polish on her toes.
Now that they were inside the restaurant without anyone else to overhear or bother them, he knew he’d made the right decision.
The only problem now was her four bodyguards, who were situated several steps behind her. Dorian looked at the one she had called Paul. The guard was tall, with blue eyes and dark hair—and his gaze often went to Alex.
It was obvious to Dorian that the bodyguard wanted Alex. What Dorian didn’t know was if Alex felt the same. Since she didn’t look Paul’s way, she probably didn’t.
“We’re alone here,” Dorian said.
Alex set down her champagne glass after taking a drink. She looked around and grinned. “That’s pretty obvious.”