by Emma Nichols
I hugged my knees closer to my chest and stared at the comforter on the bed; seeing the condemnation in Blaise’s eye hurt too much. “Maybe they’ll give up now that you called him out. Maybe they’ll be too busy trying to save their collective asses, they won’t have time to mess with us.”
“That’s one option,” he responded blandly. “Although in my experience the bad guys always choose door number two.”
“What’s door number two?” I scrunched up my face while trying to figure it out.
“That’s where the bad guy gets more dangerous. The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. The greater the threat, the tougher the response.” He sank down hard beside me and pulled me into his arms. “You need to be extra careful now, Maggie. They could be out for blood.”
11
Blaise
“You should’ve told me,” Maggie grumbled at breakfast the next morning.
“Isn’t this nice? We’re all eating brunch together out on the patio,” Malcolm commented.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Dad. It’s great.”
“Well, yesterday, I ate my meals in the office while working. This is a lovely change,” he muttered.
“At home, you eat all your meals in your office while working. The only difference is I usually bring them to you. Now Fredo has taken my job and I barely know what to do with myself.” She threw her hands in the air.
They were both silent and I took the opportunity to apologize and make things right with her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Maggie.” I sighed. “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought I had everything covered.”
“Everything except telling me.” She pouted. “Now I’ve ruined everything. You said as much last night.” She picked at her food. “And I don’t even know why I’m in danger.”
“You don’t know why?” I shook my head. “What part do you find confusing?”
“The program. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. Nobody has ever taken the time to explain it to me.” Maggie scowled.
Malcolm sat up straighter. “I told you all about it. Remember the algorithms?”
She stared at her father blandly. “Dad, I don’t know what an algorithm is any more than you could translate Italian to English.”
“I know some Italian.” He cleared his throat and I could tell he was getting ready to share his vast knowledge of Italian words.
“Oh my Lord. For the final time, pasta, pizza, and gelato don’t count.” She shook her head and slammed her fork down on the table.
“I’d be able to order them in Italy, so I say it counts.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’re never going to Italy, Dad. We can’t get the house out of foreclosure. How the fuck can we afford to travel?” She rubbed her face with her hands, covering her eyes for an extra couple of seconds, and I sensed not only her frustration, but how hard she was working to keep from crying.
Her father obviously tried her patience daily. I thought their banter was cute, but since she lived it, she had apparently lost her humor over it. “I’ll take you to Italy,” I announced, my excitement growing as the idea flourished in my head. “Once this is all over. We should get married there, in the Draco family castle.”
“You’re getting married?” Malcolm frowned. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”
“You have a castle?” Maggie perked up. Then she sank in her seat. “Of course, you have a castle.”
"It's not a big castle, if that makes you feel any better. I mean, it's only a little over twenty-three thousand square feet. It's more like a big house...with a moat." I shrugged.
"There's a moat?" She shook her head. "Fuck me."
"I wanted to make love to you," I teased. "You completely rejected me."
"I barely know you!" She exclaimed. "And thank you. My father is right there." She gestured to the man sitting to my right at the square table. Fredo had intentionally placed us at opposite ends, as if we were already dragon and mate. Other than the distance between us, I rather liked it.
"Maggie, you can't resist me forever," I warned.
Her brow shot up and her eyes flashed. "Actually, since I'm immune to your...charms, yes, I can." Maggie huffed, then picked up her fork and began to half-heartedly eat. "If you wanted me to like you, you might want to consider not keeping me in the dark. Show me you trust me. Prove that you believe I'm strong enough to be with you, because I can tell you're the kind of guy who is going to need a formidable match." Then she ignored me and focused on her eggs.
She wasn't wrong. How could I argue with her? Instead, I decided to do as she requested. "Okay, let me explain your father's program and the ramifications he clearly never considered when creating it." I blew out a breath. This was going to be a long conversation and I was already more interested in the idea of an Italian wedding. Why couldn't we talk about that? "Here's the thing about the program. And Malcolm, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think I am." I nodded at him and waited to make sure he was paying attention.
"Go on," he urged. "You seem to think you can explain it better than I can, so just get on with it."
"I think I can help her understand.” I turned to Maggie. “Is everyone in your family this damn sensitive? Christ," I grumbled. She snickered and I actually felt better as I continued explaining. "The program was developed to help with marketing. That part is great. Marketers need all the help they can get. The problem is this one is a little too helpful."
"How can it be too helpful?" Maggie frowned.
"Well, picture it. You’re playing online, working online, doing whatever you do online. This program can follow everything." I watched as Maggie's hand flew to her mouth.
"Sorry. Go on." Her mouth snapped shut. She dropped her fork with a loud clatter on her plate, and then clasped her hands in front of her chest.
"Right, so it takes what you search and what you click, then measures it. By doing this, it knows how to gain your interest. It knows how to sell to you. This in itself isn't a bad thing when it's used for the right reasons, but when it's used by say...politicians...to sway the course of an election, this can be incredibly destructive."
Maggie nodded. "So it's intuitive, like Facebook ads and Amazon ads."
"Yes, just like that, only deeper. Imagine a program uncovering all your deepest, darkest secrets and being able to use them against you." I had more I was going to say, but Maggie suddenly shoved her chair away from the table, stood and rushed from the patio into the house. I followed after, meaning to give her a little space, but battling my protective nature, which had been in overdrive ever since I'd accepted her as my mate.
After a short search, I found her in her bathroom. Without saying a word, I simply entered the room, stood behind her as she crouched over the toilet, and gathered her hair so it wouldn't be in the way. I rubbed her back and murmured words meant to comfort. “It’ll be okay, Maggie. Whatever is upsetting you, I can fix it.” She didn’t soften, but she didn’t snap at me either. When she was done retching I reached over her head to flush, and then grabbed her a few tissues from the box on the vanity.
"Blow," I suggested gently.
"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm a terrible person," she mumbled.
As soon as she finished wiping her eyes and mouth, I hefted her into my arms. "You're not a terrible person. There's nothing you can do or say that would make me not want to be your mate. I'm in this, even now, before I've convinced you to accept me." I carried her to the bed and gently laid her on the mattress. "You should rest.” I waited for her to argue with me. Since she didn't, I continued. "Would you like me to hold you for a while?"
Her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped under her chin, just like they were the first day she came over. Maggie nodded. "Please." Then she froze. "Wait, don't you have anything more important to do?"
"More important than taking care of you?" I laughed. "No. From now on, you come first. My mate always will." Then I climbed onto the bed and opened my arms. With
out hesitation, Maggie cuddled up against my side.
Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. Almost as soon as I thought she'd fallen asleep, she whispered, "Thank you, Blaise."
Inside me, the ice, accumulated around my heart over hundreds of years from hurt and disappointment, melted.
Maggie
“Well, there’s my Sleeping Beauty,” Blaise teased when I finally woke.
Ignoring him, I blinked a few times while my eyes adjusted to the light. “Did I miss anything?” I slowly sat up and glanced out the window. The sun, though low in the sky, hadn’t set yet, so that was encouraging.
“Nah. Your father went back to the office and immersed himself in his program. Fredo planned next week’s menu. I caught up on some emails, assigned some new projects, and started planning for Italy.”
I inhaled sharply. “About Italy…”
Blaise silenced me with a kiss. “No. Let me have my dream. And maybe one day you’ll share it with me.”
My shoulders heaved. I didn’t know how to explain to him that it was impossible. Last night, I nearly forgot. This morning, I had a painful reminder. “So, what shall we do? I’m guessing you’ll be going back to the office tomorrow.” I pasted a smile on my face.
“Right. Well, I’m only going to be working a half day tomorrow. Then I’ll be home with you.” He grinned proudly.
I sucked a bit of air through my teeth. “Okay. What if we…hop in the hot tub? It’s fall. We could relax before dinner…” I was struggling, desperate to get out of the bedroom and scared to death if we were here any longer, he’d make another attempt at convincing me to mate with him. With every refusal, I feared I only hurt him more. Worse, he was growing harder to refuse. The way the man doted on me was incredibly enticing. What woman wouldn’t want to be treated with such love and kindness? I couldn’t afford to have my resolve weaken. I had to save him. From me.
“Sure. If you want to go soak…in the daylight, then we’ll do it.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t suppose you brought a suit.”
“Actually, I did not.” I pursed my lips. “Well, crap.”
Blaise chuckled. “Good news. I have some. You can take your pick. I’ll have Fredo bring them in.” He stood and gave me a peck on the cheek before disappearing down the hall.
I sat there speechless and seething. Why would a single guy have a bunch of women’s bathing suits? The reason seemed obvious. There had been women who came over, removed their suits, and then left them behind. They probably imagined it would be their excuse for a repeat visit. The fact that the suits were still here, so that obviously didn’t happen, gave me little comfort.
By the time Fredo appeared, closing the door behind him, I was good and sour. “Miss.” He passed me a basket overflowing with bathing suits. Seriously, the container was the size of a small hamper.
“What the ever-loving fuck,” I grumbled. My hand shook as I tried to look through them. I knew there had to be other women besides me after all these centuries, but to be smacked in the face with it had me reeling. The flutter felt more like a gut punch. I watched as the butler shifted uncomfortably. He kept opening his mouth and shutting it, like he was afraid of saying something when it wasn’t his place. “Go ahead, Fredo. Have your say.” I began to rifle through the collection. There were one piece suits, bikinis, and tankinis of all sizes. After fifteen, I lost count. I’d gone from seeing red to a trembling lower lip and eyes burning with tears.
“Miss Maggie, it’s not what you think,” Fredo murmured gently.
“So, these aren’t from all the women who’ve been over here and…and been with Blaise?” I sniffled and tears spilled over onto my cheeks.
In the hall, I heard Blaise groan and recognized the sound of him pacing. I tossed the suits on the bed, and stormed over to the door. Flinging it open, I glared at Blaise. “Go. Away.”
“Could you listen to me before you jump to conclusions?” His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his shoulders were so high, his neck was nearly invisible.
“No.” I glared at him and slammed the door in his face, then leaned hard against it. Inside, I ached. The more I pushed him away, the more I hurt.
“Fredo,” he called through the door. “Maybe she’ll listen to you.” Then I heard the muffled thud of his body leaning hard against the door too.
Sure, I could’ve imagined us being so close with only a slab of wood separating us. Instead, all I saw was the door, the barrier in between us. Slowly, I turned my head toward Fredo. Rather than being open to his words, I sadly shook my head. What could he possibly say to make this all better?
“These aren’t women who came to be with Mr. Draco, miss,” the butler began insistently.
I sighed. “Then how did he attain them? Why are they here?”
“Mr. Draco’s brother. When he’s in town, it’s not unusual for him to entertain several…guests…even at once.” Fredo turned pink from his collar to the tips of his ears.
Opening the door slightly, I studied Blaise. “You have a brother.”
He nodded. “He’s coming to visit this week. You’ll meet him.” There was more than a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“Okay then.” I swallowed hard. “Let me get changed and I’ll be right out.” I closed the door behind me. The suit I chose would tell him everything. Blaise would know if I was mad, if my trust was still broken, if there was hope. I strolled back to the basket and chose a tiny navy blue bikini. Fredo’s brows shot up. I giggled then ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
When I was done changing, I grinned at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t have a perfectly flat stomach. My butt looked nothing like a Victoria’s Secret model. Hell, I didn’t even fill out the top like I’d hoped, but somehow, I knew Blaise would think I looked amazing. That was what mattered to me.
When I opened the door, I found Blaise sitting on the bed, waiting for me. “Hi,” I murmured as I stood in the doorway and grinned.
“Hello, principessa.” Blaise wore a far-off dreamy look on his face.
I tilted my head. “What are you thinking right now?” The flutter inside me had stopped aching and now turned into longing.
Slowly, Blaise stood up and walked over to me. “I don’t deserve you, Maggie, but damn if I don’t want you anyway. You look incredible.”
“Is it the suit?” I teased as I spun around for him.
“The suit is nice, but the sparkle in your eyes and the way your smile hits me right in the heart, that’s what I’ll remember most about this moment.” Then he leaned down and kissed me. I could feel my resolve wavering and, at that moment, I didn’t care.
12
Blaise
“I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I do. So indulge me.” I grinned as I slid closer to her on the cement bench seat in the hot tub. After I slicked back my hair, I reclined and spread my arms out on either side, one wrapped around her shoulders.
Maggie chewed on the side of her cheek. “I might want to talk about it a little, even if it can never happen. A girl needs a dream. Tell me pretty stories, Blaise.” She grinned and sank down against my side.
My brow furrowed. “Why can this never happen?” I shifted my position so I could look her in the eyes.
Instead of responding, she shrugged it off. “Focus. Stories.” She snapped her fingers in my face, as if she were trying to redirect my attention.
“It’s about time for me to relocate,” I began quietly.
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? I thought California was where you stayed. You have a home here. Your business is here.” The panic was evident in her voice.
“Actually,” I began slowly, “I have homes all over the world, and business headquarters in countless cities. After all, I can’t stay anywhere too long, Maggie. Think of the questions as I fail to age.” I stared up at the cloudless sky. “I love it here. Don’t get me wrong, but I need to leave the area for at least thirty years.”
“Wow.” She exhaled slowly.
“I’ll be fifty-five and ready for retirement then.” Maggie groaned. “And my father will be long gone.” Her eyes filled with tears.
I pulled her into my arms. “You don’t have to be old in thirty years. If you and I are mated, you’ll age the same way I do.”
“And I’ll have a lifetime of watching everyone I care about die. I’m not sure that’s better.” She averted her eyes and I had the strange sensation she was intentionally making excuses.
“Unless we’re mated, then you have my whole family.” I grinned. “Lots more people to love, people who age like us.” I couldn’t handle listening to any more objections so I stared out over the ocean. Watching the waves rush toward the shore and hearing them crash on the cliffs below had always soothed me. “I was thinking of maybe living in Italy for a while. I never finished telling you about the castle there.”
“Dear God,” she mumbled. “I won’t fit in. I’m not built for that life. None of that is me.” She seemed ready to relay a list of protests.
“You don’t have to fit with any of that. We can build the life you want…anywhere you want to build it. All you have to fit with…is me.” I pushed off the bench, floated out to the center of the hot tub, and then turned so I was facing her. Slowly, I moved closer until I could place my hands on the bench, one on either side of her thighs. “Maybe you want to hear less about the castle and more about the mating?”
Maggie looked past me, out over the horizon. “Sure. I guess.” She shrugged, but her eyes told a different story; they would never lie to me. Those glorious green irises flashed when I spoke. They showed her fear and also her sorrow.
I kicked off the wall and floated backwards until I reached the opposite side of the hot tub. Sitting there, I was still long enough to have one foot on either side of her. At first, I think she worried she was trapped, but then she seemed to understand my need to be touching her and laid her hands on my shins.
