by Zoe Chant
Theresa snorted. "Come on. You're rich, you're good-looking. If all you wanted was company, you could get it for free."
Looking at it like that, of course her worries made sense. He'd thought he'd been clear enough in the ad, but... God, I'm an idiot, Samuel thought. He should have thought about this. He should have said something, explicitly. Made it clear that he didn't expect anything like that from her.
"I'm not an idiot," Theresa said. She sounded very tired. "Just tell me. I know you're not giving me that much money without something in return."
"But I am getting something. Your company," Samuel said. She looked at him in disbelief.
He sighed. "It's complicated," he said. "There's things I can't tell you. There's a reason I can't just go out with a woman. I can't... I wish I could explain it better than this. All I want is to spend some time with you. I don't expect anything more than that."
Theresa watched him with narrowed eyes. "So what you're telling me is that there's some great secret conspiracy that's keeping you from spending time with women you're not paying."
"Yes," Samuel said, wincing. It sounded ridiculous when she said it like that. I was ridiculous, and he couldn't possible explain it any better than this without making it sound less believable. I'm a dragon shifter, and my brother's trying to stop me from finding my mate because then I could challenge his claim for alpha? No.
Suddenly Theresa laughed, a startled, incredulous sound. "Heck, I guess I do believe you. You've been too damn nice to me to secretly be a creep."
"Wait," Samuel said, as another thought occurred to him. He went over to his office and started pulling drawers open, scrambling for his checkbook. He made out a check for $25,000 and handed it to her.
"Here," he said. "The rest of your money. If I ever do anything you don't want, anything that scares you, you take that money and leave, all right? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable."
"You really do mean it," Theresa said, wide-eyed. She held the check with both hands, clutching it to her chest as if it might fly away. "This is crazy, you know that, right?"
"Not as crazy as you think," Samuel said. Not as crazy as she'd think the real truth was: his true nature, the power struggle he didn't want her getting caught in.
"So you can go to sleep now, and I'll be out here reading a book. No expectations," Samuel said.
Theresa slowly shook her head. "You're a very strange guy, you know that?" she said, but her eyes were warm now. She looked down at the check again, and then she looked up and smiled, the tension going out of her body. Samuel suddenly, desperately wished he could reach out and kiss her. But of course he couldn't, not after that conversation. She was going to need some time to process this, to really believe that he wasn't going to demand anything from her.
And yet, as the door closed between them again, his entire body still tingled with the memory of her smile, of the happiness and relief in every line of her body. He wanted so badly to press his lips to hers and taste that happy smile, to know what her body would feel like against his.
There was nothing but an unlocked door between them. If he concentrated, he could hear the steady beat of her heart. He could still smell her lingering scent, could almost feel her warmth in the place where she'd stood, a bright glowing spot in the dark room; as if every one of his dragon's senses had locked on to her.
His cock was a hot, throbbing ache, pressing against the confines of his pants. Samuel closed and locked the door to his own bedroom behind himself, a physical barrier against how very badly he wanted to be by Theresa's side right now.
He yanked his pants open and closed his hand around himself, gritting his teeth against the bright shock of sensation. Theresa. He took a deep breath, catching the faint hint of her scent that lingered in the air around him. He thought of her smile again, of her warmth as she'd leaned into his side on the bench by the lake. He remembered the lush curves of her breasts outlined by her black dress, the inviting curve of her hips and the softness of her belly.
Theresa.
His orgasm took him by surprise with its intensity, the world going white around him. It almost hurt to open his eyes and find himself alone in bed after that, two closed doors between him and Theresa. Samuel closed his eyes and imagined her by his side, listening to the steady thud of her heartbeat until he finally fell asleep.
***
The morning dawned sunny and bright. Theresa had left the curtains open when she'd gone to bed, so she woke up to the first rays of sunrise lighting up the room with a hazy golden glow. She looked out at the view of Chicago in sunrise, cuddling a little deeper into the soft sheets. She felt great, warm and comfortable, with the memories of how unexpectedly nice last evening had been still at the forefront of her mind.
Theresa closed her eyes and tried to recall the sense memory of it, Samuel's strong arm wrapped securely around her, the scent of his body when she leaned against his side…
Now that she knew that he didn't expect anything of her, that she was perfectly safe with him, she found herself almost wistfully thinking of what might have happened last night if he'd come into her room after all. Samuel would have slipped under the covers with her and wrapped her up in his arms, kissed her deeply and passionately…
Theresa slowly slid her hands down her body, trying to imagine it was Samuel touching her, Samuel's strong elegant hands, fingers sliding between her legs to where she was already wet and open for him…
Theresa hid her face in the pillow to muffle a moan and hitched her hips up against the press of her thumb on her clit. Samuel would slide a finger inside her, two, spread her open for him, he'd feel how wet she was, how much she wanted… wanted…
Theresa came with a long groan, pleasure washing through her in a wave. She stretched out on the bed, feeling heat gather in her cheeks. In a few minutes she was going to have to go out there and try to look Samuel in the eye without blushing.
Her room had an en suite bathroom, thankfully. Theresa took a long hot shower, scrubbing herself down. Her cheeks were still red, but at least now it might just be a flush from the warm shower.
Theresa's suitcase had been placed in a corner of the room. She hesitated, trying to figure out what she should wear when she had no idea what they were going to do. Finally she put on a nice blouse and a pair of slacks. It was probably better to err on the side of slightly overdressed.
Samuel was standing by the counter in the kitchen when she came out of her room, curled around the cup of coffee clutched in his hand. He was inhaling the steam with his eyes half closed. It made him look softer, younger, the intense charisma he had when he was fully awake muted.
He wore a pair of pajama pants, hanging low on his lean hips, and a soft, worn t-shirt that must have shrunk in the wash. Whenever he moved, the t-shirt rode up to show a strip of tanned, muscular belly. Theresa eyed it appreciatively, then hurriedly yanked her eyes away before he could notice. She was blushing again, she just knew it.
It took him a moment to realize she was there, he was so focused on his coffee. When he did, his face lit up with a smile. "Good morning!"
"Morning." Theresa suppressed a yawn. "Is there any more of that coffee?"
There was, in fact, some sort of enormous space age artifact of a coffee machine looming in a corner of the kitchen. Theresa eyed it, daunted.
Samuel laughed. "Yeah, it took me a while to get used to that thing, too. Especially first thing in the morning. The coffee's worth it, though. What would you like?"
He made the machine produce the cappuccino she'd requested. Theresa closed her eyes in pleasure at the first sip. "Oh my God. You've ruined me for all other coffee."
"Feel free to drink as much of it as you want while you're here," Samuel said with a smile.
"So what are we doing today?"
"Well, first of all, breakfast. Which is hopefully going to get here in a minute. After that... Do you have a dress you'd want to wear to a gala at the opera?"
"Um. Not really," There
sa said. The black dress she'd worn the evening before was the nicest dress she owned, and even if it wasn't hopelessly crumpled by now, it wasn't made for a black tie event.
"No problem," Samuel said easily. "I'll call my tailor, we can meet her after breakfast."
"All right," Theresa said hesitantly. She'd never had anything tailored in her life.
Breakfast consisted of caterers rolling in a whole cart laden down with waffles, oatmeal, bacon, hash browns and other breakfast foods. Theresa watched the bounty, wide-eyed. She was pretty sure they could never eat all of this. But Samuel immediately piled a huge portion onto his plate.
"Sorry. I have kind of a crazy metabolism. I get really hungry in the morning," he said sheepishly.
The good thing was, with him eating like that, she didn't have to feel embarrassed about tucking into her own food with relish, and maybe even taking a second waffle and some more bacon for herself.
She had to admit it was great to get to enjoy her meal without having to cook, set the table, or even clean up afterwards.
"Oh, leave it. The housekeeper will take care of it," Samuel said easily, when she picked up her plate to carry it to the sink. "I usually do my own dishes, but not when I have a guest."
The housekeeper came in just as they were leaving. She was a middle-aged lady with thick, curly grey hair, who greeted them with a smile.
"Sally, sorry, we left kind of a mess. I left you a tip," Samuel said.
She swatted his elbow, laughing. "Oh hush, you. You pay me four times what I'd make cleaning a hotel, and then you clean up after yourself half the time. Go have fun and leave the dishes to the professionals."
Theresa had already noticed that he seemed to know his entire staff by name, from the valet to the caterers, and was friendly with all of them, always taking a moment to say hello and asking about people's day, or how their family was doing.
Everyone seemed to like him, too. They joked around with him, even seemed comfortable teasing him a little.
Samuel's tailor had a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop somewhere in a back alley downtown. All the walls were lined with suits and dresses on hangers, piles of fabric everywhere.
The tailor was a tiny, wizened old lady who gave Samuel a hug in greeting and shook Theresa's hand so firmly, her fingers tingled afterwards.
"I'm Sue," she said.
Sue had the brisk, no-nonsense manner of a general commanding her army. Within minutes, Theresa found herself up on a carpeted block getting swarmed by two young assistants, who were taking measurements from every angle while she tried to stand very still.
Sue took the sheet full of numbers from the assistants and nodded approvingly. "About what I expected. Mikhail, Sonja, bring out the dress!" She turned to Theresa. "Now, your young man had me prepare a dress that he thought you might like. I'll have you try it on, but you're going to speak up if you don't feel good in it, all right? We've got other options. If a woman leaves my shop without feeling like a princess, I haven't done my job. So no false politeness if you don't like it. Understood?"
"Yes, Sue," Theresa said with a smile, feeling as if she should be saluting.
They put up a screen she could undress behind. Theresa didn't get much more than a glimpse of dark blue fabric while the assistants were helping her into the dress, between Mikhail pinning up folds of fabric, and Sonja tugging things every which way, adjusting the neckline and the hem. Her arms, legs and head constantly seemed to be in the way of whatever anyone was trying to do.
But finally the flurry of activity subsided. Sue made some final adjustments herself, and gently turned Theresa to face the mirror.
Her breath caught.
The dress was made of midnight blue silk, so light it seemed to float around her. A million tiny crystals glittered around the neckline and hem like a constellation of stars in the night sky. The dress was cut to emphasize the curves of her breast and hips, and something about the color made her skin look creamy and flawless.
She could hardly believe it was her in the mirror.
"Oh," she whispered.
Samuel was looking at her in the mirror, too, his eyes dark and intent. "Beautiful," he said quietly.
"Exactly my opinion. Good work, everyone," Sue said briskly, breaking through the stunned silence. "Darling, how do you feel?"
"It's amazing! Sue, thank you, I—But Samuel, this is too much. This dress must have cost a fortune."
"And it was worth every cent," Samuel said firmly. "If you like it, I want you to have it."
Theresa stroked her hands down the smooth silk over her sides. The dress was the most beautiful thing she'd ever worn. She didn't want to give it back. She wanted to wear it every day for the rest of her life.
"Seriously, please don't worry about the money. You look gorgeous," Samuel said, seeing her wavering.
Theresa hesitated for a moment longer, but the temptation was just too strong. "All right, then. Thank you so much," she said, and the pleased look on Samuel's face left no doubt that she'd made the right choice. "Sue, thank you, too. You were right, I do feel like a princess." She laughed, looking in the mirror, at her own impossibly glamorous reflection.
"That's why I do this job. Now don't you move, you've got more pins in you than a porcupine. Mikhail, Sonja, help her out of that dress!"
The screen was put back up, and Sonja and Mikhail peeled her out of the dress so quickly it left her head spinning. Back in her own clothes, Theresa had to take a slow, deep breath. She felt like Cinderella after her coach had turned back into a pumpkin. But the ball was going to happen tonight, and she'd get to show up in that dress. Was this really her life?
Outside, the sun was shining brightly, but the wind had picked up, stirring the leaves. Bright little clouds scudded across the sky. It was a gorgeous day.
"It's not even eleven. We've got a lot of time left till the gala. How do you feel about sailing?" Samuel asked.
***
Samuel took her out in the Skylark, the smallest of his sailboats, which was easy enough for one person to handle. He hadn't wanted to take anyone else out there with them. Theresa turned out to be a great assistant, eager to learn and clever enough that he only ever had to explain anything once. By the end of the first hour, she was handling the ropes like an old hand.
Samuel watched her perching casually against the railing, laughing, fearless even when the sails caught a sudden gust of wind and the boat picked up speed, tilting to the side with a groan. The wind tugged at her dark curls and whipped up the tails of her jacket.
God, she was gorgeous.
It had barely been a day, and Samuel didn't know what he was going to do when their ten days ran out and he was on his own again. He hadn't really realized just how much he'd missed this, spending time with a woman he liked, having someone to share his meals with, his time, his money. Making someone happy. Making her happy.
Don't think about that now, he told himself. He'd enjoy it while it lasted, make sure she had a good time. And after that, well. He'd been lonely for a long time. He'd dealt with it well enough before. He'd get used to it again.
They had sandwiches for lunch, sharing the narrow bench at the back of the boat, their shoulders brushing. The boat drifted peacefully along. All around them, other boats were sailing by, colorful sails billowing in the wind. Seagulls cawed. In the distance, he could just make out the skyline of Chicago.
"This is wonderful. I'm glad you brought me," Theresa said. She gave his shoulder a friendly nudge with hers. Samuel's chest clenched up with something almost like pain.
"I'm glad you're having a good time," he said.
The wind picked up when they sailed back, and the boat seemed to almost fly over the water. Theresa leaned out over the side, providing a counterweight to the boat's tilt when he told her to, whooping with delight at their speed. Samuel watched her, smiling so hard his face hurt.
***
Tosca was an old favorite, and the performance was spectacular, but Samuel found his eyes on T
heresa more than the stage.
She'd never been to the opera before, she'd told him, her eyes flickering down, embarrassed.
"Then I think you're in for a treat," he'd said, offering her his arm. And he'd been right; she was obviously entranced by the show.
Sue had delivered the dress in person, ready to make a few last-minute adjustments if needed. She'd helped Theresa with her hair and make-up, too.
"I didn't know you did make-up," Samuel had said, surprised. She'd tailored his suits for years, but make-up hadn't ever come up.
Sue had laughed. "I worked at the theater for a decade, honey. I did everything."
She'd twisted Theresa's hair up in an elegant knot, with a few curling tendrils falling softly around her face, and done something with make-up that made her eyes look huge and luminous. Together with the dress, the full effect was spectacularly beautiful.
But Theresa had been beautiful with her hair tousled and her cheeks reddened by the wind, too. What really made the whole effort worth it for Samuel was the look in her eyes when she saw herself in the mirror for the first time, the shy, startled pleasure on her face.
On the stage, Tosca was bent over the dead body of her lover, singing her anguish. Theresa was looking down at the scene, rapt, her eyes damp. Samuel reached out and caught her hand. Theresa squeezed back firmly.
There was a cocktail reception after the end of the opera. Theresa hooked her hand into the crook of his arm again, beaming at him with her eyes still damp and reddened.
"That was... I don't even know what to say. Thank you so much," she said.
"I'm glad you liked it."
They shared a bottle of water standing by the bar. "Seriously, thank you again," Theresa said. "I loved it. The costumes alone, and the music..."
"It's really something, isn't it. I've seen it performed four or five times before, but I never get tired of it," Samuel said.
The back of his neck was tingling. When he turned his head, a dark shadow at the other end of the room resolved into Severin's slender figure.
