He'd almost given in, too. It had taken every ounce of will power he had to deny her. She was a woman who could tempt the devil himself. If he existed that was.
The mugs and coffee were easy to find, though it appeared as if she wasn't much of a drinker herself, as there wasn't a fancy coffee machine that he could spot. Settling for the kettle, he sat down at the kitchen table while he waited for it to boil.
A small voice inside him was screaming for him to run away. Having coffee was spending more time in her space. It would give her more chances to trick him into a compromising position. Because apparently now he was an old-world debutante who could be ruined just being seen with a romantic partner.
He rolled his eyes as he got up to fix the rest of his coffee. She was just a woman, he'd been dealing with them since the moment he'd turned of age.
One drink, and he'd be out of here. Preferably before she woke up and he had to come up with some kind of excuse. He didn't fancy having to make something up on the spot.
The best thing for him to do would be to make her turn away on her own. Some kind of asshole move to make her hate him and move on with her life. It was far from honourable, but it might hurt both of them less in the long run, and that was something he could get on board with.
"You're still here," a soft voice said.
He spun around, sloshing coffee over his hand in his haste to take in Dakota.
She leaned against the doorframe, wearing nothing more than an oversized shirt that didn't cover nearly enough of her. His body reacted to the sight, wanting to take her back to her bed and have a rerun of the other night. He'd make her scream out his name and they'd both enjoy every moment of it.
And regret it once the reality set in. It didn't matter if that reality arrived tomorrow, or three years from now, it would arrive, and they'd both be left heartbroken and destroyed.
He wasn't willing to risk that.
"I was just leaving," he responded gruffly.
"You don't have to do that. You haven't even finished your coffee." She entered the room and slipped past him, her freshly washed scent filling his nose. She must have showered without him realising, he'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts.
She went onto her tiptoes to reach one of the cupboards, giving him a great view of her ass as the t-shirt rode up.
Achilles glanced away. It was one thing to be thinking about her like that when she wasn't in the room, but now she was, it became even more dangerous.
"This just boiled?" she asked, nodding towards the kettle.
"Yes."
"Great." She grabbed a teabag and dropped it in her mug.
He watched as she made the rest of her tea, entranced far more than he should be considering she was doing such a mundane task.
"Do you want breakfast?" She turned and looked at him with surprisingly bright eyes.
"Don't you have a hangover?"
She shook her head. "I might not be able to make the drunkness go away, but I can cast a spell to fix a headache." She beamed. "One of the perks of being a witch."
Without waiting for him to respond, she turned away again and pulled open a cupboard that turned out to be a small fridge. She bent down, causing the t-shirt to reveal even more of her.
Achilles cleared his throat and tried to distract himself with thoughts of what he should be doing with his day. No matter what he tried to focus on, his mind kept coming back to the image of the woman in front of him. And to what he could do to her if he just gave in to her wishes.
"Breakfast?" she asked again.
He paused, part of him wanting to say yes, and the rest not so sure he should.
"It doesn't mean anything, it's just my way of saying thanks for last night."
Guilt filled him at the hurt in her tone. She really was trying to be nice, and here he was ruining it because he couldn't keep his attraction to her under control. It was hardly her fault that he felt this way. He was a grown man who should have control over his body.
"I'm sorry. That would be nice, thank you."
A smile lit up her face, and his heart skipped a beat. Just that simple thing had made her so happy. And it made him feel good too.
This was going to end badly. And there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.
9
Dakota
She wouldn't let him get to her, not even if she could feel him watching her every move. There was an odd tension in the air that she wasn't convinced was to do with anything she'd said the night before. Quite the contrary, this was something deeper than that. And she had no idea why he was being so stubborn against the truth.
There had to be a reason. And maybe with some gentle encouragement, he'd tell her.
MatchMater had been at it again this morning, asking her to rate the date. The urge to hit the button and announce she'd found her mate had been there. Once again, she'd ignored it.
Her gaze strayed to the man standing in the middle of her kitchen. Maybe she shouldn't be ignoring it after all. There must have been a reason he decided to help her last night. And a reason he was still here now morning had broken. The problem was getting him to admit it. She didn't even need to broach the subject to know he wasn't going to do that.
Achilles didn't want to see her that way. And that was fine with her. For now.
"Eggs Benedict alright?" she asked.
"A bit fancy," he grumbled.
"I have some ham that needs eating." She shrugged. Her choice had only partly been to do with how long the dish would take to cook. "And it's a Sunday. The perfect day for that."
"Sure, why not?"
She turned away to cover her scowl. Why was he being so weird about it all? He'd been perfectly nice the night before.
"Thank you for being a gentleman," she said softly as she placed the rest of the ingredients on the side.
"I wasn't. I was just making sure we didn't do anything we regretted."
"I'm sure we wouldn't have," she answered curtly. How dare he presume to know how she felt? She was in perfect control of her own self and body, she didn't need him telling her what she would and wouldn't regret over time.
"You'd feel differently if we'd woken up in a false mating."
She pursed her lips, refusing to rise to his bait. He knew as well as she did that it wasn't necessarily a false mating, and could be a real one. He just didn't want to explore the possibility. Maybe she could get it out of him while they ate breakfast, but somehow she doubted that.
"What do you do for a living?" She placed the pan on top of the stove, before filling it with still boiling water from the kettle.
"We're making small talk?" he asked, suddenly taken aback.
"It's either that, or the state of the economy, and unless you're my accountant older brother, that's not interesting at all."
"Okay, you have a point there," he admitted, though she could tell he didn't want to.
"Why don't you sit down?" She pointed to the table.
She turned back to making breakfast, keeping half an eye on what he did next. He took a seat, seeming to hate every moment of it. He was such a mystery. Why couldn't fate have sent her someone with a more pleasing temperament who didn't want to deny the growing tension between them?
Paying him as little attention as possible, she hummed to herself as she cooked. If he didn't want small talk, then she didn't have to provide it. They'd probably only have ended up talking about the weather anyway.
"I'm in marketing," he blurted out after five minutes of tense silence.
Well, tense for him, she'd been preoccupied making a bechamel sauce, which was certainly enough to keep her busy.
"Sorry, what?"
"You asked what I did for a living."
"I thought you didn't want small talk?" she bit back, a little more venom in her question than she'd intended.
"I didn't say that..."
She wanted to argue with him, but didn't have the energy to. She might have cured her hangover with magic earlier, but th
at didn't make up for the amount of energy she'd used. She was still exhausted, and a sparring match with a grumpy dragon was definitely something that could wait.
"What do you do?" There was an unspoken sigh at the end of his question. No doubt because he kept messing up his interactions with her. Never mind the whole mating thing, he was lucky she was still in the same room talking to him.
"I'm a research assistant at the university."
"That pays well?"
A scowl marred Dakota's features at the surprise in his tone. "I don't see how that's any of your business."
"It's just the house is a lot bigger than I'd expect based on that kind of salary."
She spun around, brandishing a silicon spoon at him, but only because that's what she was holding and not through any attempt to actually be intimidating. "I don't see how any of this is anything to do with you," she said firmly. "I make enough for me to live comfortably, and it’s none of your business how much that is."
Of course, it helped that her grandparents had left her their house when they'd died, so she didn't have to pay rent or a mortgage, but that wasn't information she was going to give him. Especially not when he was being such an ass about the whole thing.
Besides, if he was to be believed, then they meant nothing to one another, meaning her financial situation really wasn't any of his business.
The English muffins popped out of the toaster, making her jump. It got her every time, no matter how prepared she thought she was for it. She pulled them out, dumping them onto plates and layering on the ham, before scooping the poached eggs out of the pan. With the sauce on top of the tower of food, she took the plates to the table and set one down in front of Achilles.
His tongue darted out and wet his lips.
Hopefully, that meant he was just hungry, and that's where his grumpiness was coming from too. She could hope. Though with him, it was almost impossible to say.
"This looks good," he admitted.
"Thanks." She dug into her own food, not paying him any attention. She'd hoped they could have a nice meal and the two of them could work out some of their issues.
She'd been wrong. Or perhaps just over hopeful. The two of them didn't know one another, it was unfair of her to expect things from him really.
"I'm sorry," she said eventually. "Can we start again?"
"On MatchMater? I think it only allows us to match once," he answered absentmindedly. "This is really good, by the way."
"At least it was worth staying for breakfast," she muttered under her breath.
He chuckled. "I'd say the company is pretty decent too."
"Then why have you been acting like I stole your treasure all morning?" she demanded.
"You're back to the treasure again?"
"Stereotypes exist for a reason." She shrugged, secretly enjoying seeing him as riled up as he was. Two could play the game he was, and she wasn't about to let him win by default.
"Alright then, when should I start saying things about your familiar?" he threw back.
She sucked in a sharp breath, the memory of seeing Rhi's shimmering sparks still fresh in her mind. "What do you know?" she whispered.
"What? Nothing."
"You must, or you wouldn't have said it."
"Dakota, I don't know what you're talking about..."
She glared at him. "My familiar."
"What about it?"
"How did you know I have one?" She set down her fork, the food having completely lost its taste.
"Well, now I know because you're acting weird. But I didn't before. We were talking stereotypes and you're a witch, it seemed logical that was the one to play."
"Oh." She blinked a couple of times, not quite believing what she was hearing after the panic of seeing Rhi's sparks.
"You do have one, then?"
"Yes."
"Can I meet it?"
"No."
"Why not? Is it shy?"
"You really don't know?" she prodded.
"Clearly not." He shovelled another fork full of food into his mouth.
"A witch's familiar can only be seen by the witch and their mate."
"Oh." Something flashed over his face, but she couldn't put a name on it.
Maybe he'd seen the flash of Rhi after all and was now putting the pieces together. A little part of her hoped that was the case. If it was, they could put all this behind them and finally accept that they were mates. If they were. She was starting to doubt the feeling in her gut, even if all signs pointed to the two of them being destined.
"What do they do?" he asked between bites.
"Now there's a question. If I ever find out, I'll let you know." She gave a short laugh. "But for the most part, they keep us company."
"That must be nice."
"I guess? I've never known any other way. When you grow up with something, it just becomes the norm."
"Huh, I hadn't thought about it that way," he admitted.
"Not many people do. Though I don't think they think about it at all. Why would they be interested in how witch magic worked?" She shrugged and went back to her food.
"I appreciate learning it though. Thank you for sharing."
She looked up at him, trying to work out if he was being sincere or not. She was fairly certain he was, but it was almost impossible to tell. The dragon shifter was difficult to read, and she suspected he always would be.
10
Achilles
He swallowed down the rest of his coffee, throwing the cup in the next bin he passed. It hadn't tasted as good as the one he'd had at Dakota's house, but that was to be expected. Everything tasted better when there was a beautiful woman to talk to. Though he'd not done a very good job at managing her expectations.
A buzz from his pocket drew his attention. He pulled out his phone before swiping across the screen. No matter what he told himself, he couldn't stop his heart from skipping a beat over the mere idea that it might be the enchanting witch messaging him. Against his better judgement, he'd agreed that they could talk a bit more and maybe see if there was something between them.
This lack of control over himself around her was starting to worry him. If he couldn't get a hold around one pretty woman he'd already slept with, then what hope did he have for the rest of them?
Disappointment filled him at the sight of his uncle's name on the screen and he pocketed his phone. His family didn't need him to answer straight away, and wouldn't expect that from him either. He'd get back to them in his own time. One of the main reasons he didn't live on the dragon side of the fae portal to earth.
But that didn't solve the problem of Dakota. He needed to do something about the attraction he felt for her. Neither of them were safe from a false mating if he didn't. He could always try suggesting they should just be friends, but somehow he knew that was never going to work. Even if they hadn't slept together already, there was an undeniable chemistry that would just get them into trouble. And into each other's beds.
He slipped through the double doors and into the cool air-conditioned gym he'd been coming to for years. He waved at a couple of the personal trainers who were clearly on a break and sauntered into the changing rooms. A couple of hours here and at least his excess energy and aggression would be worn off. The events of the past couple of days had brought his dragon to the surface and there wasn't anywhere for him to shift around here while still going unnoticed. Sometimes, he envied smaller shifters that pleasure. Then he'd remind himself that he was a dragon, and the envy would slip away into the night, unclaimed and unwanted.
The smell of stale sweat and a lack of responsibility filled his nose as he stepped out onto the floor. No one expected anything of anyone here. It was all about the burn of muscles and personal goals. It was one of the reasons he liked coming here. No one tried to control his time here. Not like at work, or worse, when he was with his family.
"Hey Achilles, what are you doing here today? You're not normally in on Sundays," one of the other regulars said.
"Hi, Brock. Just wanted to pump some iron," he responded, cringing instantly. Now he remembered why he'd stopped coming on Sundays. Brock wasn't the kind of man who liked to be alone, and he didn't take any of the hints about being left alone.
"You didn't used to do weights," Brock observed.
There went that plan. He'd hoped that by doing something the other man had no interest in, he'd get rid of him. He should have known better. "I didn't used to, but I've just started."
"Oh great. I have too. Want to head over there now?"
Achilles cringed, not seeing any way out of the awkward situation he'd gotten himself in.
"I think I'm going to head over to the treadmill to warm up first," he said, hoping that would be too boring for the other man.
"Great idea, I'll come with you."
He groaned inwardly. He'd rather take more of his awkward situation with Dakota than face the next few hours with Brock.
"Aren't you nearly done with your workout?" Achilles asked, noticing the sweat on the other man's face.
"I was, but that was before I had someone to talk to, don't you find the time passes quicker when you have that?"
When the person was Brock, Achilles could guarantee that the time went slower, not faster. But there was nothing for it, the risks of not exercising and not shifting were far too dire for him to contemplate. He was stuck here, whether he liked it or not. But next weekend, he was finding himself a new gym.
He climbed onto the treadmill and pressed several buttons, setting it for a punishing speed and incline. He knew he could manage it without stretching himself too far, but hopefully, it would be enough to put the other man off.
"What are you running from?" Brock asked after five minutes. His own machine was set much slower than Achilles' was, but his face had turned beetroot from the exertion.
"Nothing," the dragon answered.
"You're not convincing me. No one sets that kind of task for themselves if they're not trying to get away from something. We're buddies, you can tell me."
Reluctant Dragon Mate Page 4