Dragon Devotion

by Amelia Jade

  Oh, and after he told her he was a giant fire-breathing dragon who could fly and was hundreds of years old.

  There was also that.

  Chapter Seven

  Harlow

  The luxury SUV that had picked her up pulled into an underground parking lot at one of the tallest apartment buildings in downtown Barton City. As it descended, her stomach seemed to knot in upon itself as they drove, her nerves getting the best of her at last.

  Vanek had offered to come pick her up, but she’d eschewed that idea and said instead she’d meet him at his place. After some back and forth, she’d given in and let him send a vehicle for her, stating that the driver knew where to go, and also had the passkey to get them into the private parking area.

  Harlow glanced at her phone once more, noting the five-digit code in her last message from Vanek. Apparently his place had a private elevator for her to use as well. The enigmatic man didn’t act like he was some snobby millionaire, but the casual way he threw money around was making her second-guess things somewhat. His attitude didn’t match, but the material things were there.

  Was she just one of those material things?

  Harlow snorted loudly, ignoring the look the driver gave her. She chided herself for such stupid thoughts. There was no way that Vanek viewed her as some sort of trophy catch. While she was quite happy with herself and the curves she wore proudly, that didn’t mean all of society viewed her the same.

  A fitness junkie like Vanek fit quite nicely into the group most vocal against her lifestyle and body. Yet he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. It was that paradox which kept her on her toes, always feeling uneasy with him, even though they’d seen each other several days in a row now. It just didn’t seem real to her. There had to be some sort of hidden catch; she just couldn’t figure it out.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she said, hopping out after double-checking that it had been pre-paid, like Vanek had said.

  The underground was well lit, and the private elevator was easy to spot, recessed down a short hallway that had several extra lights around it, making it stand out from the rest. Harlow strode toward it and punched the button. It slid open without a sound and she stepped in. A keypad blinked at her until she used the code Vanek had provided her. The doors slid closed just as quietly and then shot upward. The tube was in the center of the building, so she was surrounded by four silvery-gray walls devoid of advertisements or any display.

  Moments later it hissed to a halt and a soft chime played as the doors open.

  “Oh wow.” She stepped out into the hallway. It led straight to a T-junction at the outer edge of the building, providing a beautiful view of the city.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Vanek emerged from a staircase to her left, walking up to her and simply standing, admiring the view next to her. His presence was imposing, but not intimidating. He was relaxed and there was no forced sense of proximity with him being so near to her. That had gone right out the window the first day they’d worked on her wrecked float. With his strength they’d managed to rebuild a much larger chunk of the frame than she’d ever imagined, saving her precious money and time as well. During it they’d learned to coexist near each other, and that showed now as he rested less than inch from her, with neither of them feeling uncomfortable.

  That’s not to say she didn’t feel anything. Anytime his muscled arms came near her she couldn’t help but remember how they’d felt under her hand that first night as he’d escorted her to dinner. Solid and supportive as iron, yet warm and fleshy, almost inviting. More than once she’d pictured how it might feel to be swept up into them, having his body pressed against hers. It was never going to happen though. Even now, being here in his house, she didn’t feel any underlying pressure from him. He was relaxed and just genuinely seemed happy to see her.

  “Gorgeous,” she agreed.

  “Let me show you my favorite view,” he said eagerly, grabbing her hand before she could resist.

  “Slow down!” she yelped as he rushed for the stairs, half-pulling her along behind him. “I have short stubby legs.”

  “You have short, beautiful legs,” he corrected. “Stubby is such an impolite term. I like your legs.”

  He didn’t look back as he spoke, walking up the stairs with her in tow. This meant he didn’t see the astonished look on her face. It was probably a good thing, because it took Harlow several seconds to wipe it off. Had he actually just called her legs beautiful? Her legs, of all things?

  “This,” Vanek said proudly, “this is my favorite view. I look out at this every morning to wake myself up.”

  “Stunning,” she whispered, falling silent as they rounded the corner and the landscape in front of them came into focus.

  They stood facing west. The western edges of Barton City spread out before them, but it was the scene beyond that which was truly most captivating. Fields of green trees and farmland covered the space between the city and the mountains, huge shapes soaring high into the sky. A couple of the very tallest still sported snow at their peaks, but most were green that gave way to the beige-gray of high mountain rock, windswept and worn down. The sun was just set to disappear behind them as they watched.

  Harlow frowned in careful thought. When they’d arranged for her to come over, he’d been very specific about when she should arrive. Then, when she’d gotten here, he’d hurried her upstairs right away without offering a tour.

  “You planned this out, didn’t you?” she accused him, pointing at the panoramic display in front of her.

  Vanek gave her a look that said ‘Who, me?’ telling her all she needed to know about his intentions.

  “It is beautiful,” she admitted. “But I’m on to you now!”

  He chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. I’ve not made any attempt to hide them.”

  No he hadn’t, had he? Harlow wondered what his end game was though. Knowing he’d wanted to show her the sunset over the mountains gave her some clue. It was apparent that he had intentions with her. Whether they were purely physical, romantic, or some combination of the two she didn’t know. He’d promised her nothing more than good food and laughter, however, and tonight she was intending on sticking to that.

  It wouldn’t matter how nice he was to her, she was going home. Alone. Probably.

  Harlow sneaked another look at him, admiring the simple tri-buttoned T-shirt he wore with a pair of rugged blue jeans with gold stitching throughout. They fit him like they were made for him, and she once again felt a stab of jealousy. Clothing shopping was near impossible for her, but for Vanek it looked like he could just toss an article on and it would mold to his incredibly delicious body, just like the shirt he wore now seemed more a part of him than a separate garment.

  Even as she watched the muscles of his biceps bunched up while he folded his arms across his broad chest, prompting a subtle licking of her lips that occurred before she even realized it. As soon as Harlow caught herself ogling him she looked back outside just in time to see the sun drop below the mountain, the sky a brilliant haze of orange against the puffy clouds that dotted the sky.

  “That is something,” she admitted. “I could watch that every night and not tire of it.”

  Beside her Vanek grinned, but he said nothing.

  Her nose suddenly informed her that something smelled incredible. “Oh my goodness,” she gushed, turning to try and follow the scent. “What is that? And how did I not smell it before?”

  “Probably too distracted by the view,” Vanek teased, the slight smile on his face making it clear he’d caught her looking at him.

  “Yeah right,” she joked, trying to play it off. “But seriously, what are we having?”

  “Pulled pork on a bun with some coleslaw and a Caesar salad on the side.” He tossed her a wink. “You said you didn’t want fancy, so we’re going non-fancy. What you probably smell is from the slow-cooker.” Vanek shook his head, long black hair flying everywhere. “Wonderful inventions those
are, absolutely love them. You can make so many different things in them!”

  She smiled at his enthusiasm for the device, as if he’d just discovered them. Most of the time Vanek seemed normal, besides his size and a few mannerisms, but every now and then he acted like he was from somewhere else. A different place, in a different time. It was part of his charm, she decided.

  “If it tastes as good as it smells, I’m stealing all the leftovers,” she announced. “Just telling you before dinner, so you aren’t caught off guard.”

  “Sure, take them all,” he said. “Your hotel food can’t be all that fantastic. Maybe this will be a nice upgrade.”

  Harlow blushed slightly at his eagerness to make her happy. It was weird, she decided. Not only was Vanek into curvy women, which was unusual in itself. But he was into her. She would have bought it if she’d seen him walking down the street with someone else. That would be believable, if outside the norm. Her? No way. Why would someone like him be into her, a business failure and an orphan? It made no sense. What did she have to offer him?

  Vanek had walked into the kitchen and begun to serve the food onto plates. She hurried over to accept hers, following him to a casual wooden table none too different from a picnic bench that was set up against one wall. It was single-sided, allowing the eaters to look out over the vista as they ate.

  She finished her first bite, and her mouth dropped open, taste-glands salivating at the prospect of getting more. “Vanek this is unbelievable,” she gushed, chewing down another bite.

  “Take your time!” he boomed with laughter, chestnut eyes glowing with an orange warmth to them that made her want to blush. “I made plenty, so there’s tons of leftovers and seconds if we want.”

  “I think I’m going to definitely want,” she said between mouthfuls. “Definitely.”

  The ultra-tender meat was mixed with a smoky, almost bourbon-esque barbecue sauce, with hints of brown sugar and a multitude of other spices she couldn’t pick out. Whatever it was, it was dreamy.

  Seconds were had. Then thirds. Harlow had planned on eating conservatively, but the more she ate, the more Vanek seemed to beam with pride. She figured he must be happy that what he’d made was so delicious. Either way, it gave her the confidence to truly satisfy her cravings. Three buns and two helpings of salad later they both sat back, patting full bellies and laughing over how much they’d eaten.

  “You know, Vanek,” she said, rising and grabbing her plate and glass, “that was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long, long time. Thank you for asking me to dinner again.”

  She put the plate in the sink and hit the tap to rinse it off. The shadow looming over her was the only indication she had that Vanek had followed her before he spoke.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up?” She didn’t bother to look over her shoulder.

  “No.” The low rumble was accompanied by a touch on her arm, staying it from lifting the dish and placing it in the nearby dishwasher.

  Harlow tried to force her way through it. His arm didn’t move. It didn’t even budge, even as she shoved against it as hard as she could. Trying to make Vanek move was like bending steel. It wasn’t going to happen for her.

  “Vanek,” she said calmly. “I am not some helpless woman who needs everything done for her. You made us an unbelievable meal. The least I can do to feel like I’m not imposing is put my dishes in the dishwasher and wash the slow cooker. Okay?”

  There was a hesitation from him, but this time when she tried he let her.

  “We’ll do it together then,” he said as she stood up.

  “Sure,” she agreed easily. “I’ll wash, you can dry.”

  The tension eased as they fell into an easy partnership of cleaning up the dishes. There were but a few of them, the slow cooker having made things easy, and in short order it was all clean and put away. She finished stowing the slow cooker in the corner cupboard.

  Vanek was there with a freshly filled glass of wine as she stood.

  “What service!” she teased, setting it to the side as she jumped up onto the countertop so that she could better look him in the eye.

  “I know it’s not five-star dining, but I hope the vintage is acceptable.”

  She swirled the red liquid around snobbishly, pretending to sniff it before taking a rather unsophisticated gulp. “Oh yeah,” she drawled in her best male impression. “That’ll do.”

  Vanek’s shoulders bounced as he laughed. “Not how I saw that going,” he admitted, “But I’ll take it.”

  “And how did you see it going?”

  “Well, first I thought you might taste your wine. Just enough to whet your palate, you understand. You would remark on its succulent flavor and some other nonsense that I’d pretend to understand. After that, I would offer you to try mine.” He grabbed his glass and came nearer, the half-empty cup in front of him.

  “But Vanek,” she mock-protested. “Every wine snob knows you shouldn’t mix flavors so quickly one after another.”

  “Right,” he agreed, standing in front of her now, his massive frame blocking out much of the rest of the room. “But you’d do it anyway. As you reached for it, our fingers would brush against each other.”

  He reached forward with his free hand and lifted her right hand to his glass. Harlow’s throat constricted as their fingers did exactly as he’d said.

  “That would set the tension.” Vanek’s voice dropped a few octaves, growing deeper, huskier. More intoxicating.

  “Tension is good,” she agreed in a whisper as he stepped closer yet again.

  He was in front of her knees now, her legs carefully kept together until this point.

  “Now what happens?”

  He glanced away, making sure he safely set his wine glass down. Then he took hers from her hand, putting it next to his.

  “After that, we’d share until the glasses were empty.”

  “But they’re not,” she pointed out.

  His eyes narrowed. “This is my imaginary scenario. Don’t interrupt.”

  Harlow giggled but gestured for him to proceed. “Okay, what next?”

  “Then I’d shuffle closer, until I was pressed up against your knees. I’d drop one hand to your lower thigh,” he glanced down and placed his hand where he’d indicated, his fingers curling onto the inner half of her leg. “You’d swallow and look at me with wide eyes as you realized what I was about to do.”

  “Yep.” She’d done that just now as his hand gripped her, the touch making her blood roar in her ears.

  “I’d pull ever so gently, and you’d spread your legs, so that I could step forward again.”

  He tugged, and like a marionette Harlow felt herself respond, her legs parting so that he could step between them, until his face was mere inches from hers. She was wearing pants, so there was nothing to be worried about exposing, but he was now in her personal space. In her bubble.

  “Is that all?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No. I would slide my hand up your leg, and as you looked down at it distractedly…”

  Her eyes followed his hand, wondering where he was going to stop it.

  “I’d cup your chin, lean in, and kiss you.”

  Vanek did just that, and despite his commentary on what he was going to do, the moment still caught her off guard. Air hissed into her nose as his soft, full lips covered hers. Harlow’s hands wrapped around his neck lazily as he kissed her thoroughly.

  “You sure have a way of distracting a lady,” she joked when they parted, her legs wobbly and unsteady even though she was sitting on the counter.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, his hand long since having withdrawn from between her legs to wrap around her back, holding her tight to him. “But you’ve got some impressive defenses in place, and I needed to sneak in the side door.”

  “I can see that. Apparently I’ve got a bit of a vulnerability where you’re concerned.”

  Vanek didn’t reply. Instead he kissed her again. This t
ime their mouths parted and he gently ran his tongue over her, the heat from their embrace leaving her lightheaded. He was very thorough, and by the time they finished, she was using her arms to support herself on the counter. Her body felt like Jell-O, weak and unstable. Harlow had no idea what this meant for the two of them, but she was damned positive about one thing.

  Never had she been kissed like that before.

  “As much as I’m enjoying this,” he said, pulling away, “I did promise you nothing but good food and laughs. Playing out a dream scenario in my head was not on the list of acceptable activities.” He shrugged. “Plus I have to get up extra early tomorrow. If we’re going to watch that movie, unfortunately we need to get it started now."

  Harlow stared at him in disbelief. “Right,” she said at last, realizing he was being serious. “Of course. The movie.”

  ***

  Two hours later she stood in the parking garage below his building, waiting for the cab to pull up. Its tires could be heard in the echo-y underground chamber as it came down the ramp, but she paid it no mind.

  Her brain was still spinning as it tried to unravel what the hell had just happened in Vanek’s apartment. Penthouse. Whatever.

  He’d kissed her. The joking about it being his dream scenario aside, it had actually happened, and it had been amazing. Her body was still reacting to his touch, and she knew when she got home a hot bath was definitely in order.

  Harlow wasn’t sure what surprised her more. The fact that she’d kissed the mysterious hunk, or that her body had the reaction it had. She wasn’t naïve. When he’d invited her over to his place, she’d known what she might be getting herself into, despite his promise of nothing but good food and laughter.

  So why had he kissed her then?

  “Men are so confusing,” she complained to the empty parking garage.

  He’d kissed her. But then refused to do anything more. Even during the movie they hadn’t quite snuggled. There had been some touching, yes, of legs as they sprawled out. They’d shared a blanket. That was it though. Nothing more, no flirting, no slow creep of his hand up her leg as he tried to figure out if she was going to stop him or not.