by Starla Night
Her eyes turned shiny again, and her lower lip trembled. She covered it with her hand. “Care… for me?”
“Come.” He took her hand and drew her into the bathroom. “I will attend to your needs and tell you all you wish to know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mal promised to take care of her and tell her anything she wanted to know?
Cheryl was almost afraid to believe him. Every time she started to trust he would be there, he flipped around and retreated.
But when he appealed to her so gently, she couldn’t stop herself.
It was her fantasy. She wanted him. Did he offer himself? She took his offer.
Cheryl followed him into the bathroom. He showed her how to fill the huge pearly bathtub, how to operate the jets, and how to change the temperature and color and scent of the bubbles.
She chose a soothing lemon-lavender, and they both watched the tub fill.
At his insistence, the two-day-old clothes peeled off. It was easier the second time… but it was harder because she could fool herself that he wasn’t able to see her naked body in the romantically dim bedroom. She couldn’t fool herself in the brightly lit bathroom.
She tried to cover her private parts.
He growled. His eyes glowed a possessive green that made her feel beautiful and powerful. He wanted to see her naked. That was the rough meaning of that delicious growl.
She eased her hands to her thighs. He relaxed. Too bad she wasn’t a nudist. His hungry gaze made her heart beat so fast. And it was unfair—he was still fully dressed.
He leaned over, sleeves rolled up, and shut off the bubble-filled water. “Soak here. I will scrub your body.”
She grabbed the side of the tub for balance and paused with one foot in the air. “Aren’t you getting in with me?”
“I must gather food and bring you a glass of wine.”
“Oh.” That was good too. She let go of the tub and reached for a fluffy robe hanging from the wall hook. “I can help.”
He arrested her hand. “Please bare your body.”
His rough tone made her throat dry and a growing familiar pulse throb between her sore thighs. “You won’t even be here.”
“Please.” His jaw worked. “I need it.”
He needed her naked in his bathroom? Well… because it was him asking… She released the robe.
“Get in the water and warm yourself. I will return.”
Well, she was cold. He helped her step into the deep tub—it went up to her waist in the deepest part—and she leaned into the sensual curve of the porcelain. With his eyes still crackling electric green, he departed.
Cheryl relaxed into a dreamy state as mounds of frothy, lavender bubbles swirled around her in Mal’s giant, rainbow-colored bath.
Mal was a mass of contradictions. He growled that he had no time for her and yet he couldn’t bear to let her leave. He seemed hurt, almost physically pained when she tried to cover herself, and he was always demanding she touch him.
Didn’t he know he was gorgeous and irresistible? In comparison, she was plain and very, very resistible.
He had begged her to return to his house with him and he seemed growly and desperate when she turned her attention away from him for a single moment. But she still doubted their relationship, especially after the shocks earlier today.
He was mistaken about his attraction and a second look at her naked body would repel him. Wasn’t that why his eyes glowed green as she shyly undressed but he refused to touch her and quickly left?
But, perhaps… just perhaps he was as awkward as she was, and so he didn’t know how to show it.
She scooped a handful of lavender water. It slid through her fingers, splashing in the bubbles with soothing, wet tinkles.
This was his first relationship. Mal pursued everything seriously. Now, he focused on his corporation and beating his rivals. If, someday, he turned his full attention on her…
She shivered. And it was not from the cold, which had long since melted into soothing, liquid warmth caressing her limbs and making her deliciously sleepy.
Then, maybe he would want to have their baby, and present Cheryl to his mother, and officially marry her into a dragon family.
She rested her hot forehead on the warm lip of the bath. A smile tugged at her lips. Wouldn’t that be amazing?
When he held her close and told her he wanted to care for her, she almost believed it could be so.
Mal returned what felt like moments later with the promised food and wine. She drank her second glass and ate her second dinner of the night, and this time, sitting on a short stool, he joined her. It was peaceful and fun and intimate.
Then, after she finished, he rolled up his sleeves and lathered soap. He started with her right hand, threading his fingers, massaging her forearm, sculpting her bicep, and squeezing her shoulder.
Her muscles relaxed into sensuous heaven.
He lathered her left arm and continued down her back, kneading her butt into gooey dough, and her front, squeezing her breasts and washing every place thoroughly. He finished with her toes, and he even shampooed and conditioned her hair.
Her body felt wrapped in a golden light.
But somehow he seemed upset.
“Why are you still angry?” she asked.
His eyes glimmered with anger. “I am not angry.”
Um, she was pretty sure he was. “Your dragon tail is twitching.”
“What?” He looked behind him. “I’m not showing my tail.”
“It was a metaphor.”
His brow cocked at her in confusion. But, if he said he wasn’t angry, then his anger probably didn’t have anything to do with her.
“Fine.” He sat back on his heels. “Why will you not show me your art?”
Whoah. She eased against the opposite side of the tub. She’d been right, and he was angry, and more important, he was still hung up on a comment she’d made hours ago.
“Why do I have to show you my art? It’s crap.”
“I will be the judge.”
“Obviously that’s the last thing I want.”
He frowned. “Why?”
Well, because. “I only want to show you the good things. Stuff you could enjoy or admire. Not cutesy Hallmark pictures that belong on greeting cards.”
“What’s wrong with greeting cards?”
“They’re not commercial.”
“Aren’t they? Don’t you purchase these greeting cards for every holiday and occasion, some even stuffed with good wishes or money, at all major retail outlets?”
Ah. Um, right.
“I mean, my art probably isn’t good enough for that,” she said. “Nobody would want to pay me for it.”
His brow furrowed. “Our company is already paying you for your art.”
Yeah, but look at the logo they had selected.
“Dragon tastes are different from human tastes,” she tried to explain with tact. He had, after all, hired her.
“I like everything you have ever made.”
The bath got a hundred times hotter. Her heart squeezed and threatened to jump right out of her chest. He was so certain, so arrogant, so kind. She wanted to hug him and cry.
“Human taste is, uh, more judgmental,” she said lamely.
“That is why I must judge,” he stated, equally certain of his truth. “I will correctly assess which of your art is best to send through the mail. Although, it may be everything.”
Oh, god. She was going to fall in love with him even harder than she already had.
“Um, maybe another time. I’m super tired.”
His insistence stopped. The argument, though delayed, would come again. But she was grateful he put it away and concentrated on her now.
He dried her in a fluffy towel and carried her to the bed like a princess in his arms. The turbulent emotions of the past days drained out of her like the bath water and warm, fuzzy exhaustion swept over her. Even though she was with him in the bed where they’d made lo
ve, she was so tired, her eyelids slid closed on their own.
He stroked her cheek with his index finger. “Rest now.” He shifted to the edge of the bed to leave.
She clamped his wide hand. “Stay with me.”
He hesitated.
Ah. Right. The hurt dulled to acceptance. She’d already taken up too much of his time. Her mistake.
She released his hand and oozed deeper into the sheets.
Warmth shifted behind her and Mal’s body pressed into the mattress. He was sleeping with her! His arm locked around her belly, cinching her to his hard body.
How long would it last this time? Before he left her again in the cold bed alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Mal’s eyes snapped open.
His body was warm and rested as though he had slept for a hundred years. He held his woman in his arms. Her breath eased in and out, slow and steady. Morning light warmed his pillows. The day was still and at peace.
The day.
He released his wife and bolted upright. The transmission from Draconis. The Outer Rim Company Rank List. He’d missed it.
Hell fire.
Mal leaped from the bed and flew to the desk as though he could somehow go fast enough to reverse time. But time did not reverse; when he arrived, the transmission had still passed him by. He never bothered to record it because he was always awake to hear it live.
Blasting brimstone.
He raked a hand across his face. How had he missed his alarm? Maybe he forgot to set it. Maybe someone turned it off. He would normally check those things, but his wife had begged him to stay with her so sweetly…
She emerged from the bedroom, yawning, with a sleepy smile on her face. “Morning.”
His panic made room for a flush of warmth. Her nubile curves emerged from the fuzzy blanket she held to her chest and made him want to dive back into the bed with her.
No, there was no time for that. He had to confess his error to his siblings, decide on the next product to launch, and call a Justice of the Peace.
But first, the main irritation remained. “Will you show me your art?”
Her yawn choked. “Isn’t it a little early?”
Resistance. Again.
Very well. He would attend to the pressing needs but this final portfolio review would not be forgotten.
“Are you ready to leave?” he asked.
She blinked and looked down at her blanket. “Uh, give me a minute to change.” She hurried to the bedroom and her voice rose, sad and forlorn, a few moments later. “If you can, uh, show me where to find the clothes?”
He showed her the closet, and then he watched her gorgeous body wiggle into undergarments, dark jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a clean hoodie.
Now that her clothes were on, he wanted to stop and peel them off again. He needed to rub himself on her skin so, even naked, everyone knew she was his.
She glanced over and caught him staring. Her cheeks stained red and her eyes sparkled. “What are you thinking about?”
“Claiming you.”
She blushed even harder.
He grabbed her around the waist, eliciting a startled squeak, and gave in to his obsessive need. He ran his hands up her arms, yanked her T-shirt out of her jeans, and rubbed her soft belly against him.
She giggled. “Hey. Stop. That tickles!”
When she was thoroughly covered in his scent and he was ramrod-hard—and fighting his desire to pinion her to the closet wall and bury his shaft deep within her wet, feminine sheath—he acquiesced to her stated desires and released her.
She caught her breath and almost seemed sorry he had stopped. “Wait.”
He obeyed.
“You messed yourself up.” She fixed his collar and adjusted his business jacket.
Grooming? She was grooming him?
Warm satisfaction glowed in his body. He threw his shoulders back and stood tall, making himself appear more powerful to attract her deeply.
Her smile faded. She patted his collar. “Okay. Now you’re ready.”
He covered her hands to hold her in place. “Something saddens you.”
“Oh. No.” She blushed and tried to tug her hands free. “I was just thinking you’re good-looking. That’s all.”
Yet his good looks made her sad. “Do you wish me to be ugly?”
“That’s impossible.” Her laughter subsided with another sigh. “You’re perfect just as you are.”
You’re perfect just as you are.
His chest tightened. He didn’t know how to respond.
Mal was not perfect. Their company still trailed behind the Carnelians. He’d missed the outer planet report for the first time since landing on Earth. They were still not married. There were many things wrong.
And she would not willingly bare herself to him and show him her art.
He didn’t know how to say that, so instead, he focused on what he understood: Going to work and working. “Ready?”
“Yes. No!” Her eyes widened, and she jerked free. “Let me grab my tablet. And my coat. And breakfast. Just a second.”
Once again he focused on himself that he ignored her needs.
Already he forgot his commitments. The company was easy. It was a checklist of basic tasks. Thinking of his wife—paying careful attention to her—that was hard.
Because it was a luxury. Giving all his care to her was like giving into his deepest urges. If he wasn’t careful, his control would slip.
“Take as many seconds as you need,” he told her.
She hurried around the lair gathering her materials and disappeared into the kitchen.
He found a nice, thick jacket for her in the closet. His skin was twitchy from the need to depart. Or take her back into the bedroom. But he would wait. Patiently. Even if it killed him.
He was also too conscious of her in the kitchen. How would it be in the office together? Today he was going to be worthless.
His phone rang. It was Jasper.
“When will you arrive?” His normally placid Operations Manager sounded on edge. “Amber wants to start the meeting.”
His chest heated. They were doing things without him. “What meeting? I called no meeting.”
“How else can we handle this emergency?”
“What emergency?”
“Didn’t you listen to the broadcast?”
His stomach sank. He’d only missed one broadcast in his entire tenure. “What?”
Jasper’s tone turned flat. “Our mother discovered that we asked our uncle to take her on the pleasure cruise to delay her from meeting our non-existent women. She’s furious. And she says if we care more about our company than about our own mother, then we can just run our company by ourselves.”
“What does that mean?” Mal demanded. “She won’t let us use the aristocrat transport stations under her name? We’ll have to fight for landing space on standby?”
“She’s given away our port privileges.”
“Entirely?! How will we land on Draconis to sell our clothes?”
“We can’t,” he said grimly.
They were barred from the planet. They had just become an import company that couldn’t import anything.
“There is a narrow window until the transfer takes effect. Therefore, this launch will be our final one.” Jasper’s voice hardened with determination. “Let’s make it our best.”
Mal slumped in his seat.
This launch would be the end of the company and their final chance to reach number one.
Chapter Sixteen
Cheryl was glad to get into the office.
The morning hadn’t been restful. A big, snorting dragon tried to dress her in a coat while she was making a peanut butter sandwich, asking every few seconds if she was ready to go. She’d abandoned her lunch.
Mal had flown her to the office building across the river in a hair-blasting fifteen minutes. It was like having the top down on a convertible airplane.
Going down the glass shaft fro
m the roof was kind of cool. He was careful in the confined space. Then, he opened the window to his office and let her off on the carpet.
The carpet felt familiar and solid under her feet. The office door was open and the sounds of the early morning coffee makers filtered in.
She turned in his arms to thank him for the flight.
His distracted gaze was already looking past her at the mountains of papers on his desk. “Amber wants to speak to you.”
No, she would not be dismissed by him just yet. She put her hand on his forearm. “What’s your plan for me today?”
He tore his gaze away and focused on her. “Get you out of here so I can work.”
His bluntness would get him stabbed with his own letter-opener.
Then again, after the turbulence of the past two days, the ups and downs of finding their places after what they’d shared, sliding back into their familiar roles made sense. He was the growly, work-obsessed CEO, and she was his lowly intern. It was nice. Irresponsible. Comfy.
She still intended to force a real answer from him. “I meant are we meeting for lunch or—”
“I don’t have time for lunch.”
Of course not. She tightened her grip on his arm. “What time are you taking me home tonight?”
He blinked and focused on her. Good. She had his complete attention. “Late. We have to select a product today. I’ll stay until it’s done.”
“Do you want me to go to my mom’s or—”
“No.” He put his hand over hers. His wide palm covered her with possessive warmth. “Come to me when you want to leave. I’ll take you.”
Great. That was all she wanted. A plan.
She tugged her hand away to leave him as he requested.
He tugged her back. His eyes flared green, and he kissed her. His tongue stroked the inside of her mouth. She melted into his embrace. His hard arousal pressed like a promise against her waist and his hands sought her skin, wiggling under the hem of her hoodie and T-shirt.
Oh. No getting naked! The office door was open. She arrested his hands and pulled back.
