by Zoe Chant
"I've got it. Don't worry about it, honey. One time, sneaking around, he made me knock a whole jar of pink Himalayan salt into the broth I was simmering. Even the cat didn't get that batch."
"I do not sneak," Darius declared. His attempt at dignity was made more difficult by the baby trying to squirm out of his arms.
Which both women had just noticed. "Is that a baby, boss?" Elvie asked, mopping at the table.
"No," Darius said, as Skye began trying to eat his tie. "It's a small basket of heirloom tomatoes—yes, of course it's a baby."
"You have another one?" Loretta sounded horrified.
Hmmm. That wasn't the response he was hoping for. "This is my granddaughter."
"Oh! Is her mother named Tessa? I saw pictures on ..." Loretta hesitated and flushed abruptly. Her skin was the kind that showed every trace of color; the blush went right up to her hairline.
Elvie wadded up the soiled tablecloth and made a discreet retreat, leaving them alone in the employee lunch room.
"On my phone?" Darius asked.
Loretta nodded. She looked ashamed. "I didn't mean to snoop. Well, okay, I did mean to snoop, but—" She took the phone out of her pocket and held it out toward him. "I stopped once I realized what I was doing. I don't want you to feel like you can't trust me with your things."
"I would take that," Darius said, as Skye twisted around (how were babies so bendy?) to try to get the buttons on his sleeve into her mouth. "But my hands are somewhat busy at the moment."
Loretta broke into a sudden grin, and his heart flipped over. "Oh, right. Sorry. Can I hold her for a minute?"
"Please," Darius said with relief.
Loretta put his phone down, and he placed Skye carefully in her arms. She obviously knew how to hold a baby, tucking Skye up against her shoulder so the little girl could look around.
"Awww, hi, sweetheart. What's your name?"
"It's Skye," Darius said, resisting the urge to run a hand over Skye's disarmingly adorable little head. She was a lot cuter when she wasn't trying to eat his shirt.
"How old is she?" Loretta jiggled Skye against her shoulder. "No, wait, she just passed six months recently, didn't she? I, um. The phone. Sorry."
"It's all right." He pocketed the phone, firmly squashing the urge to check it and make sure she hadn't moved any icons around, and reached for a napkin to dab at his damp tie. "I ... do not mind."
And surprisingly, he really didn't. Normally, knowing someone else had been touching his things would have sent his dragon into a tail-lashing fury. But it was oddly quiescent, even content. It wanted Loretta to be able to share their things. She was their mate. All the things he owned were Loretta's things too.
At least, if he could somehow manage to avoid scaring her off again. He cast around for a conversation starter. Neutral topics. Nothing to do with dragons or apartment fires ... "I see you have clothing now."
Loretta glanced down at herself. "Oh. Yes. It's Elvie's. It's really pretty, isn't it? I love—"
"Yellow. Yes. You said."
She looked surprised. "You remember?"
"Of course I do."
I remember every word you've ever said to me. I will until the day I die.
That look of surprise, with something softer around the edges, was still on her face. His secret weapon was working, he thought, pleased. The baby had softened her up a bit. Now to dive in for the k—er—now to take advantage of the soft underbelly she'd exposed ... no, that still wasn't quite right ...
Now to spring into the conversational lull, tail lashing and claws out, with an offer she couldn't refuse!
"Would you like to go outside?" he asked. "There's a lovely rose garden. The ... er ... baby might like it."
Loretta smiled at him, and his heart did that thing again. "Sure. I'd like that too. I found the one with the pink and yellow roses," she went on, as he opened a side door. "It looks like it's all red and white roses out here, right?"
"That's right. This is the west garden. The other is called Laura's garden because ... ahem ..." He couldn't quite remember. It had been planted by one of his earlier employees, back in the 1920s or so. Had the gardener had a daughter named Laura? Had the gardener's name been Laura? It was so hard to keep track over the years. "It's named for an employee."
"Oh, that's sweet." With Skye cradled against her shoulder, she stretched on tiptoe to sniff one of the roses.
It had been awhile, Darius realized, since he'd stopped to ... well, literally to smell the roses. The garden was warm and fragrant in the sun, the paths neatly maintained. His gardening staff, mostly day labor who lived down in the village along the lake, did an excellent job. He would have to remember to commend them. Perhaps hand out some bonuses, maybe build something new in the village ... their library could probably use an upgrade, or the clinic. He would have one of the servants take a poll and see what was needed most.
In a world where dragons remained secret, living in close proximity to a village of people who, for the most part, knew about dragons meant taking pains to be an excellent neighbor. He made sure the village never lacked for infrastructure or employment. In exchange, he and Melody could fly in the mountains around here without having to be as careful as usual.
"You're quiet," Loretta said. "I didn't know you had that setting."
She was gorgeous in the sun, her red hair tumbling freely down her back. There was a strand of red across her cheek, stuck to the corner of her mouth. The urge to reach out and brush it away was overwhelming.
So he did.
Her skin was just as soft as it looked. His fingertips stroked the hair back to rejoin its fellows, just as the wind changed direction and a new wave of wayward strands swept in from the other side.
Loretta gave a soft, breathless laugh. "Good luck with that. I've been fighting with it every day I've been alive, and I haven't won a battle yet. The best my hair and I can manage is an uneasy truce."
"Your hair is beautiful," Darius said. "A crown of glory. I have never seen its like."
She blinked, her eyes wide, as though she wasn't used to being complimented. Surely such a beautiful woman had been told so before.
His hand was still on her face. She hadn't pushed it off. Instead she seemed to be leaning into his touch, her lips parted.
He leaned forward. She didn't draw back, didn't push him away. Her eyes were pools he could drown in.
Her lips were infinitely soft under his, opening to receive him.
He couldn't have picked a more beautiful place to kiss her, under deep blue skies filled with wind-torn wisps of clouds, with the garden drowsing in the sun and the air filled with the fragrance of roses. He drank deeply of her, and she gave back all and more, her body rising responsively at his touch, inclining toward him like the flowers to the sun. He leaned closer, wanting more of her, wanting all of her—
Skye, trapped between them, gave a little squawk and grabbed a fistful of Darius's hair.
Their kiss broke apart in laughter, hers and his; Darius himself was surprised by the sound of it. He was not in the habit of laughing. He found that he liked it, and he liked hearing Loretta laugh even more.
"Ow," he said, twisting his head to the side while Loretta, still giggling, helped untangle Skye's chubby fingers.
Loretta was still smiling. Her eyes sparkled; there was a flush on her cheeks. "I want a rain check."
"Rain check," he agreed, not entirely sure what that meant, but he picked up the gist of the meaning. She wanted more of that later. She was willing.
He rested his hand on her elbow as they went on through the garden. She didn't push away, instead leaning a bit closer.
At the heart of the garden, there was a small courtyard with benches and a fountain. Loretta picked a bench on the shady side of the courtyard and sat down with Skye in her lap. Darius took a seat next to her. Just being in such close proximity made his heart race, his body yearn for her. Interesting to have first seen her naked, and now see her clothed—when he hadn't
yet had a chance to touch her, or taste her. He hadn't realized how tantalizing a woman's body could be when it was fully clothed ...
"This place is so huge," Loretta said. "I don't know how you can bear it."
Darius tried to wrench his mind back to the conversation. He thought for a minute that he'd missed something. "Sorry?"
"This ... all of this." She absently freed some of her hair from Skye's small fists as she spoke. "The mansion, the gardens. My entire apartment building could fit in just one wing of your mansion. And it's just you and a handful of staff here?"
"More than a handful. Much of the village is employed here."
"That's ... um. Not actually better."
"I am providing gainful employment for them. I'm not sure what the problem is."
"It's not a problem you hire them. It's just ..." She huffed out a breath, looking frustrated. "Darius, doesn't all of this seem like too much to you?"
"Too much what?"
"Too much everything! The house, the gardens—how many gardens do you have, anyway? Do you even know?"
"Of course I know," he said, feeling rather put out. It was all part of his hoard; what dragon didn't know his own hoard? "The east rose garden and Laura's garden, the vegetable garden, the apple orchard and the terraced orchard and the orchard with the—"
"Okay, okay," Loretta said quickly, cutting him off (to his annoyance) before he could list out all his garden possessions to impress her. "I get it, you can rattle them off on cue. But what does it mean to you, Darius, having them? Do you enjoy tending roses? Does it make you happy?"
Her questions made no sense. "I have people to do that for me."
"Do you spend a lot of time in the garden, then?"
"Why must one use something to have it?" Darius asked, reasonably enough, he thought. "It exists. I own it. I can walk in it if I want."
"Yes, but if you don't use it, Darius, that's just ... hoarding."
"Yes, exactly," he said, pleased.
Loretta was silent for a moment, long enough to make him think he'd upset her somehow. Then she said, "Speaking of stuff, all the stuff I have at the moment is ... well ... nothing. I was going to say the shirt on my back, but it's not even my shirt. I'd like to go back to my apartment and pick up some things. If ..." She blinked her eyes rapidly. "If it's even still there."
"I'll check on that for you." The thought occurred to him that he hadn't been monitoring the fire; he hadn't even thought of Rodan Sharpe in hours, after being obsessed with him for months. He already had his phone out to call the property management company before he thought to ask, belatedly, "If you want me to?"
"Yes, please."
He put in a quick call to the company that managed the building, established that it was intact and the damage was mainly confined to a block of apartments on the ground floor (none of them rented by a Loretta Somers), one of the stairwells, and the roof. He hung up to find Loretta giving him a strange look, a look he couldn't quite read.
"Now, if I was understanding your side of the conversation," she said, "am I right that you own my building?"
"Yes. That's how I was aware of the fire."
"You own my building," she said again.
"Technically, yes. It's part of my holdings—"
"You're a slumlord?"
"What?" Darius said, eyes going wide. "My buildings are not slums!"
"Buddy, have you seen your buildings?"
Had she been anyone other than his mate, he would have reacted to the accusation with fury. Instead, his disbelief was tinged with wary concern. Surely his mate was a person of discerning taste, not someone who would lie about such a thing.
"I think you are mistaken."
"I lived in that building. I am very much not mistaken. Do you want me to list what's wrong with it? Half the appliances in my apartment don't work, it's always either too hot or too cold, there's no water pressure, the carpet smells like mold—"
"I need to see this building," he declared.
"Yes, that's what I'm saying. And I need to pick up my things." She got up, gathering up Skye.
"We can take a car," Darius said. "It'll be longer, but—"
"No," Loretta said decisively. "I'd like to fly. With you, as a dragon. I want to see you change again, now that I understand what's happening." She swallowed. "They say if you fall off a horse, you should just get back on."
"I will not let you fall."
"That's not the point. The point is, I don't want to be afraid of your dragon, Darius. So show me your dragon and help me not be afraid of it."
She was so brave, his mate. All fire and spirit—as a dragon's mate should be. He yearned to tell her so, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he simply nodded, and stepped away from her to give himself room to shift.
Chapter Eight: Loretta
I really hope I don't regret this, Loretta thought, as Darius stepped into the middle of the courtyard, beside the fountain in the sunshine. She hoped she didn't do anything stupid, like scream or cower.
Her memories of her first and only view of Darius's dragon were filtered through her sheer pants-wetting terror of the fire and suddenly finding herself hundreds of feet in the air, wet and naked. She hadn't really gotten a good look at him.
Now she was braced for his transformation to be something unpleasant or hideous.
But it wasn't. Instead he tilted his head back, looking up at the sky, and his body ... flowed, was the only word for it, the charcoal-gray suit and white shirt becoming his gleaming scales.
He was silvery gray, a color that made her think of polished steel or hammered tin. His scales overlapped like chain mail, rippling smoothly across each other when he moved, and his wings arched above her, casting a translucent shade across the courtyard through their leathery membranes.
Loretta had been braced to stop herself from instinctively running away. Instead she was captivated. Beautiful was the word that came to mind, except it wasn't quite right; it seemed too delicate a word for the vast strength and power that she could sense in the great, muscular body of the dragon rising above her. He was beautiful like a speedboat, beautiful like a silver Lamborghini. His was the beauty of chrome and steel.
The dragon dipped his horned head to look at her, and his eyes were still Darius's, gray and coolly amused. "You don't look afraid," he said in a voice that was a deep, rich rumble.
Loretta gasped. "You can talk! I thought I might have made all that up."
"I can, unlike most shifters. Dragons," he said smugly, "are special."
"Most shifters? There are others like you?"
"There are many different kinds," Darius said in his throaty rumble. "My son is a panther. But we can speak of that in the air." He turned his head around on his supple neck to indicate his back, and sank to the ground, folding his legs under him like a cat. "Get on. This will surely be a more comfortable ride than you would have experienced in my claws."
"Wearing only a towel, you mean?" she murmured.
"Just so." Invitingly, Darius planted one enormous clawed forepaw like a sphinx and cocked up his elbow to provide a step for her.
It was awkward, climbing aboard in a skirt with a baby in one arm, but she managed to do it without slipping even once. She expected him to be cool to the touch, like a snake, but instead his scales were surprisingly warm.
"Hold on," Darius said, and she grasped one of the spines on his neck, clutching Skye tightly in her other arm.
His wings unfurled with a sound that made her think of bedsheets on a clothesline flapping in a high wind—but bigger, deeper. He brought them down, and in a shower of leaves, and red and white petals, they were airborne.
The fear she awaited never came. Darius beat his wings strongly, and they rose into the air. The mansion fell away below them, and she got a dizzying view of the valley with the lake at its heart.
"I have never permitted anyone on my back before," Darius said in that smooth, rumbling voice; she could feel it through her legs and ... other
areas.
"What do you think?" she asked, somewhat breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with the flight.
"I believe I rather enjoy it ... with you. I don't think that would be true with anyone else."
"No," she murmured. She couldn't imagine riding like this on another dragon, trusting implicitly that they wouldn't hurt her, and would catch her if she fell.
***
They flew low this time, nearly skimming the treetops. Darius banked and wove to stay over the most wooded areas, avoiding houses and small towns.
As the houses got closer together and the buildings of the city rose ahead of them, Darius swept down for a landing in a farm field behind a screen of trees, with a subdivision on the other side. Loretta slid off, and Darius shifted, effortlessly translating himself from four legs to two.
"That was amazing," Loretta breathed.
A small smile of subdued but true pleasure flickered around the corners of his mouth. "I'm glad you approve. I shall now summon an 'Uber' to take us the rest of the way." He whipped out his phone. Loretta wondered where exactly it had been when he was a dragon. However, that wasn't the main problem.
"Uh ... Darius?" She cradled Skye, who was looking all around as if this was the world's best adventure. "We can't take Skye in a car."
"What? Whyever not? I have it on good authority that my son and his mate take this child places in a car all the time. At least their Facebook photos seem to suggest so."
"Yes, but I expect they have a carseat. You can't put a child this young in a car without one."
"Carseat," Darius said blankly.
"Yes ... to put a baby in?"
"Cars have seats already."
"Seats for adults," Loretta said patiently. "Not seats for a baby. The seats hold them in and protect them in case we're in an accident."
"If the driver of our Uber is careless enough to have an accident, I will eat him."
At which point Loretta decided that she was done having these ridiculous, circular arguments. It was time to put her foot down. "I'm not getting in a car and neither is this baby," she declared. "Not without a carseat. It can't be more than a couple of miles from here to my building. I'll walk. You can get an Uber if you want."