by Zoe Chant
He’d had so much money and he’d never even spent it on anything of substance. The thing Theo had been most impressed by—the handmade lace—her dad hadn’t even known enough to take good care of. The house had been a tacky McMansion. She’d seen that before the end, and she didn’t know if he ever had.
At least she lived in a building with character to spare. At least there were people in her life—Theo, Tiffani, Isabelle, the kids at the center—who would grieve if she were gone. She did have a family. She had more of a family than the man who should have given her one had.
She had more treasure.
If he’d really belonged in Riell, she thought, he would have understood that. Sure enough, she could see people around them looking at her dad with disapproval. Looking at her with sympathy.
And looking at Isabelle’s father with judgment.
So there it was. Justice served.
She didn’t have anything to say to her father. Not right now. Maybe not ever.
She said to Theo, “You should call Martin. Will they let him in?”
“Yes,” Theo said with complete certainty.
No one in the room protested when Theo called the US Marshals and told Martin to come to Riell to pick up Gordon Marcus. “You’ll be able to see everything,” Theo said, ignoring the slight intake of breath from everyone as he gave directions. He cupped his hand over the phone and said, “Pegasus shifter,” and everyone nodded like this made sense, even if they weren’t particularly pleased with it.
Some of the burlier dragons in the room were restraining both Dimitri and her dad. Neither one of them bothered calling out to their daughters. Maybe they had just enough shame not to do that.
Jillian had had enough. She didn’t want to be at this party anymore—she resented, in the foolish way of someone focusing on the wrong problem, that her only likely chance to wear this elaborate gown had been ruined. She resented that Isabelle’s only debut had been ruined.
She went to a far table and sat down. Theo and Isabelle joined her. In their formal clothing, and with their silence, they looked like wallflowers at the prom. Isabelle was quiet. She only had eyes for her mother, who was also stuck waiting patiently for justice to take its course.
At least the room had stirred into conversation again, though no one had gone back to playing any music. But every word they said wouldn’t be overheard now.
Izzie took off the delicate earrings and laid them down on the spotless white tablecloth, right in front of Jillian’s hand. Her face was grave in a funny kind of way.
“Jillian Marcus, on behalf of my father, Dimitri, I present to you treasure obtained through dishonor. It is rightfully yours.”
The bad prom vibe had gone. All Jillian felt now was that she was at the end of a very long wedding that she’d somehow been shanghaied into organizing. Her feet hurt, she was exhausted, and she was a little drunk but not nearly drunk enough.
But none of that was Isabelle’s fault. The kid was just doing her best to act like a grownup.
“Thank you, Isabelle,” Jillian said. “I appreciate it, but to be honest, I never want to see these again.”
Izzie looked crestfallen. Her grand gesture had gone awry. It put her into a gratifyingly teenaged snit. “Well, I don’t know what you want me to do with them, then.”
Theo, less accustomed to having to remain unruffled around teenagers, laughed. He picked up Jillian’s hand and kissed it.
“This is not,” he said, “how I wanted this night to go.”
“I’ve been vacillating between ‘bad prom’ and ‘bad wedding,’” Jillian admitted. “Not fairy tale ball.”
“I did tell you that we weren’t that fond of fairy tales.”
“You did. I was warned.” She slid her shoes off under the table. “Do you know what makes me angriest? He blew up the house so no one would have it, and now no one will have it. All the money that was supposed to go to the people he hurt... now we’re just left with whatever he brought here. Isabelle, I guess I do have a use for those earrings after all.”
Isabelle gave her a small, unreadable smile and stood. “I,” she said in her best princess manner, “am going to go get a glass of champagne and stand with my mother. Perhaps if I look sad and orphanlike, everyone will agree she’ll face no punishment.”
“You don’t have any objection, I hope?” Theo said to Jillian, watching Izzie walk off.
“To Elizabeth not being punished? No, I don’t think so. I just want everything to be over.”
Theo’s thumb moved to her ring finger, reminding her that not all of her thoughts of weddings were bad ones. “I’ll support you on that, then, and I think they’ll listen. Izzie deserves that as much as she deserves the champagne.”
“I think so too. It was brave of her to go up against her parents.”
“It isn’t just that,” Theo said. “She sided with a human. And she gave me her father’s hoard, which she would have inherited eventually.”
Jillian frowned. “Walk that one back for me?”
“You can’t inherit,” Theo said. “Draconian law says only dragons can inherit from dragons, except in cases of a clear will. But if one dragon wrongs another one, the wronged dragon can seize their hoard. Izzie knows I’ll take her father’s to compensate your dad’s victims.”
“But Dimitri didn’t wrong you,” Jillian said.
“I’m very charming,” Theo said. “By the time I get through talking to the council, they’ll be persuaded that he did. He sheltered a criminal it was my job to track down and he caused my mate distress.” He rubbed at his face. “Of course, once Dimitri’s hoard comes into my possession... honestly, it’s for the best if you take it and get rid of it before I have the chance to get attached. My intentions are good, but I’m still a dragon.”
Jillian’s head was spinning. She couldn’t imagine that Dimitri’s wealth would compare to her dad’s—she had to be realistic. One unemployed old money dragon in a reclusive community could hardly have more on-hand than a thriving white collar criminal. But at least it would be something.
“How much do you think it will come to?”
Theo told her.
Jillian’s jaw dropped. “And Elizabeth and Izzie still have their own hoards, right? We’re taking away money they would have gotten, but not anything they depended on to live, right?”
“Of course,” Theo said. “Elizabeth is much wealthier than Dimitri, anyway, her hoard is far more substantial. That may have been why he took in your father, to increase his worth in the eyes of his mate.”
“I don’t think it worked,” Jillian said dryly.
“No, it would appear not.” He smiled. “She’s like you.”
“At the moment, I’m feeling very fond of my mate’s treasure. We could really do this?”
Theo nodded.
“You would give up the chance to have all of that... for me?”
“I would give up anything for you,” Theo said, and then she loved him all the more because he added, “but I would do this regardless. It’s the right thing to do.”
A dragon, Jillian decided, made the best Prince Charming.
Epilogue
Jillian
She still couldn’t believe that the explosion had left Theo with no scars on his human body. His chest and back were both completely smooth, colored only by his dragonmarks.
Lazy Saturdays gave her plenty of time to enjoy those. She traced them with one finger, following their winding tracks around his chest and shoulder. His skin there was even hotter than it was everywhere else.
“Can I see your wings again?”
Dr. Mendoza had cleared him for takeoff two days ago, and Theo had hit the skies like they were a swimming pool on the first day of summer. He had made his first flight solo, flatly refusing to risk carrying her when he wasn’t sure what his wings would bear. Since then, he had taken her for a few trips. She still couldn’t get used to sitting on his back, his scales hard but as soft as scuffed velvet. Somehow that wa
s more striking than the way the earth fell away beneath them, the city and farmland below turning into a patchwork quilt. She was more used to flying than she was to riding dragons.
Theo said, “You’re going to make me vain,” but he rolled over onto his stomach and, concentrating, let his wings bloom out of his shoulders.
By now she knew that this technically qualified as showing off. Theo’s ability to shift slowly and partially was vanishingly rare even among dragons. He had called it his talent show trick.
Jillian could juggle a little, but she didn’t think that really compared.
It was incredible, following the fine but steel-strong bones of his wings down to the smooth human skin of his back. His wings had healed so well that only the very thinnest and whitest of scars showed in places against the red. She ran her hand down the length of one. She’d never forget that he’d gotten those saving her.
“Will you take me flying tonight?”
“Tonight and every other night you like,” Theo said. He hesitated. His face still partly turned into the pillow—she didn’t think anyone else would have noticed how shy he could still be sometimes when he thought the stakes were high—he said, “My lease on my apartment comes up for renewal at the end of next month. I was wondering—”
“We could get a place,” Jillian said.
She didn’t like the slight sinking sound in her voice, but she couldn’t help turning to look around her apartment as if she could, by X-ray vision, see through to the Steeplechase’s funnily endearing ugliness. She loved it, but her apartment was too small for two, and she would choose Theo over any amount of quirky charm.
And she couldn’t ask him to live in The Steeplechase. Unlike her, he actually had taste.
“We don’t have to,” Theo said quickly.
What was she doing? The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she could ever again have a home without him in it.
She poked one wing. “Okay, hotshot, put these away so we can talk face-to-face without you getting crimped.”
She watched intently as Theo folded his wings back into his human form, stashing them away in hoard space. She still couldn’t pick out exactly how they vanished. It was like the visual equivalent of trying to remember something that was on the tip of your tongue.
Theo turned to face her. He had the serious look he always got when he was convinced the right thing to do was to wait for the other person’s decision.
He said, “I don’t want to rush you. I know you love me. If it feels too much like a whirlwind and you want to go a little more slowly, I’ll understand.”
“You would? Because I wouldn’t get it if you wanted to slow down at this point. I mean, I’m your mate, you saved my life—”
“You saved mine back.”
“—and I took half your money. We’ve basically been married and divorced already, when you look at it that way. I think fast is our natural pace.”
He smiled that crooked smile that she always wanted to kiss off his mouth. “Maybe. But Dimitri’s hoard really doesn’t qualify as half my money, you know.”
“It’s a metaphor.”
“It is a metaphor,” Theo said haughtily, “that diminishes the size of my hoard.”
“Believe me,” Jillian said, lowering her hand down below the sheets, “I know your size everywhere it counts.”
The smile turned into a much more wicked grin. With a casual demonstration of shifter strength, he flipped her so she was the one on her back. He knew how much it turned her on for him to treat her as if she were as light as a feather. Her legs parted at once.
His mouth joined hers. He tasted like cinnamon and cloves, making each glide of her tongue along his into something especially decadent. His lips were just slightly chapped, which made them register more against her own, stirring her, making her more sensitive. She felt like her whole body was humming. What he could do to her with just a kiss was obscene.
And she loved that she had the same effect on him. He was already hard, his cock immense and needy. She knew that if she really wanted to, she could bring him off within a minute. She did want to. She should—certainly he had spoiled her enough that she should return the favor—but then he sank down with his mouth between her legs and any thought of doing anything but lying there and holding on for dear life was beyond her.
She whimpered as he lingered on her clit and then outright moaned as he slid two fingers into her. It was such a tease to have only a taste when she wanted everything. She was always so greedy for him.
It would have scared her to need someone so much if he weren’t him. She always knew he would give her whatever she needed. She could always trust that he needed her back. She could always trust him to look at her and see beauty and honor.
She lifted her hips, bumping herself against his mouth. But she could never hurry him when he wasn’t in the mood to be hurried, and now he only raised his head and looked up at her with an unbearable glint of playfulness in his eyes. His mouth was shiny from her.
“Patience, Treasure,” he said.
Treasure.
He had never called her that before. Not like that. But he’d said it not like he was introducing a new endearment but like it had come as naturally to him as her name.
With the next brush of his tongue, Jillian came. She clenched her hands around fistfuls of sheets and thought, Treasure, treasure, treasure. She felt like she was lit up like a pinball machine, the word flickering around her, activating pleasure centers wherever it bounced.
Somehow she needed him even more after she’d come. Right now, another orgasm wasn’t what she needed to feel fulfilled. What she needed was for him to be inside her. She wanted his face level with hers.
She got it because he too had run out of patience. He sank into her in a single thrust. She tightened around him, her inner walls tense with pleasure. Theo made a soft sound that could have been a gasp.
Jillian stroked her hand down the side of his face and waited until those gorgeous emerald eyes of his found hers.
“Not slow,” Jillian whispered. “I want what you want. I fell for you fast and hard. You don’t ever have to worry that I’m going to regret that.”
Theo exhaled. His muscles were quivering a little with holding himself still despite his obvious desire to move. “Fast and hard, Treasure?”
“Fast and hard,” Jillian confirmed. She grabbed at his back. “My treasure.”
Fast and hard for a shifter was something transcendent for a human. Jillian felt like she was being lifted out of her body. It felt like flying all over again, with her being dazzled by what the two of them were doing together but also just astonished at the fact of him, so strong and so gorgeous. She came a second time and then, for the first time in her life, felt herself edging towards a third climax. She gritted her teeth. She would shake apart, she couldn’t, it would be ridiculous—
But it was Theo.
They came at the same time, Theo’s body tight against hers and her body tight around his. Fireworks went off everywhere. Even as they disentangled themselves, she could still feel aftershocks running through her. She was exhausted and now in desperate need of a shower, but nothing in her life had ever been as worth it. She was going to give up her career and philanthropy and devote herself entirely to sex.
Well, she was going to take a sex vacation, anyway. Maybe when they moved.
Now she was so sex-crazed that she was thinking in porn titles: One Hot Housewarming.
But there was one thing she had to say, since they were trying to be clear about what they wanted.
“Could we...” She took a deep breath. “I know this building is a hideous monstrosity and that all of Riell will disown you if they ever find out you live in it, but I really like it. And management always puts out free sugar cookies in the lobby on Wednesday afternoons.” She didn’t know why she thought that would be her strongest selling point. “Could we maybe see if they have any bigger apartments available?”
Theo he
sitated. “I’d been thinking about a house—maybe a townhouse—”
She wouldn’t go so far as to say her heart sank. Most of it, like the rest of her, was still on cloud nine. He was right, anyway. It made way more sense for them to start investing in their future.
“Which is why,” Theo said, “I looked to see whether or not The Steeplechase had any townhouses.”
Cloud ten. “Do they?”
“They do,” Theo said cheerily. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand. “I asked Tiffani to go to a vacant one yesterday as a spy and take some pictures.”
Jillian gasped. She flipped through the photos so quickly that at first she could barely tell what she was seeing. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning. She made herself slow down.
The cherubim-painted gargoyles were present in the form of giant stone lions the management had inexplicably decided to paint like bulldogs. The shutters were all a baffling shade of blinding ochre. The building was mostly brick, except for where it turned into limestone for a quarter of a wall for no apparent reason. Every bar of the wrought iron gate was topped with what looked like an elaborate rainbow-colored swizzle stick. Someone enterprising and highly offended had spray painted TEAR THIS PIEBALD MOTHERFUCKER DOWN on the sidewalk leading up to it. A neighborhood kid had drawn a hopscotch court over that, utterly unconcerned with either the profanity or the request.
“It’s perfect,” Jillian said. “It’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
“And it has two bathrooms and comes with a billiards table,” Theo said.
“Is it cheap?”
“As you said, it would have to be, wouldn’t it?” He made a small, contented sound as she flung her leg over him and snuggled up to his side. “I can fly you there tonight and we can take a look ourselves.”
“It’s not just that it’s ugly, you know,” Jillian said. “I wouldn’t want the inside to look that way.” She gestured around to illustrate her point. Her apartment might be overcrowded, but it wasn’t entirely unbearable to look at. “It’s just... these places have heart. They’ve been around for years, too. The foundations are good, they were built to last. And they stay up no matter how often someone says they should come down. They just keep being themselves.”
