That little lift of her chin made him want to say the most outrageous things to her.
“I’m working. The manufacturer of my doors refuses to see reason about my request for an immediate replacement, and I do not intend to let them dismiss the fact that they must put my claim before other orders. We will talk later, at the binding ceremony.”
She glanced at the laptop before nudging his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be your usual bossy self with them and get them to do what you want.”
“Yes, but it may take a little time until they see reason.” He pulled her hand from his shoulder, kissed the knuckles, and released it.
“This is important, Archer,” she said, tugging at him again. “And it won’t take long, assuming you…” She gave a little cough and murmured something so softly, he couldn’t hear it clearly.
“Assuming I what?” he asked absently, responding to the latest refusal of the manufacturer, his fingers flying over the keys. If they insisted on being obstructive, he would simply fly to Arizona and discuss the matter in person.
“Are…uh…understanding of the situation.”
“I am always understanding. I am a dragon.”
“I’m not quite sure why you think the two things go together,” she said with humor rich in her voice. “It’s been my experience that the opposite…but I don’t want to argue with you. I just want to explain why it’s important that you sell the manuscript back to Edgar.”
“That again?” He frowned when a snippy e-mail from the manufacturer’s CEO popped into his inbox. “I told you that I do not give up what is mine.” He turned to her, unable to keep from sliding a hand under her skirt and up the satiny length of her thigh. “I thought you were going to start working on the leaf?”
She stepped back, out of his reach. He frowned at that. “I was, but then Edgar texted to say he was flying back today and he’d better find the manuscript waiting for him. You don’t understand how important this is to me, Archer—”
“No, I don’t. Do you not like my touch any longer? Is it because I did not pay homage to you as you deserve this morning by licking my way up your legs to your woman’s parts, tasting the true essence of you, making you squirm with desire until I sink myself in your heat, welcoming those little sounds you make only when I’m deep inside of you and watching passion make your eyes shimmer with my dragon fire?”
She blinked at him a couple of times, grabbing the back of his chair. “Wow, that was…licking? That sounds really nice, not that I’ve ever been big on oral sex before, but I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”
“Flower,” he said sternly, even as he closed his laptop and stood up, finding once again that his trousers were too small in the cock-and-ball department. “You are new to being a mate, so I will show you patience now, but you must understand that I have responsibilities other than making you moan and demand my fire. I am master of the tribe. I owe my consideration to others, as well as you.”
Thaisa giggled. “That lecture would sound a whole lot more imposing if you didn’t have your hands on my butt right now.”
He squeezed the warm, round cheeks that filled his hands, thinking seriously about sliding his fingers under the thin underwear that hid all her secret delights, but he couldn’t shirk his duties just to give her the pleasure she was due. “Later,” he promised, unable to keep from kissing her delectable lips. She moaned and slid her fingers through his hair, tugging on it. “Later I will give in to the demands of your hips and thighs and woman’s parts. Especially the woman’s parts.”
“Don’t forget my breasts,” she said, squirming against him in a way that would ensure his jeans were tighter than ever. “They don’t want to be left out of the fun.”
“I would never shirk my duty to them,” he agreed, his hands cupping them. He loved the weight and feel of them, loved their taste, and the silkiness of her skin.
“Fire?” she murmured, pulling on his hair.
“Mate, you cannot interrupt me when I am busy with tribe business—” The rest of the words were cut off when he gave in to her request and let his dragon fire wrap around her, filling her before returning to him. He felt the warmth of his fire in his hair and knew her fingertips were alight again, and for some reason, the simple fact that she was so affected by him pushed him over the edge.
With a growl that started deep in his chest, he gave in to the urge natural to all dragons to join with the one mated to them, and swept an arm across his desk, knocking a couple of books and a sheath of documents to the floor before lifting Thaisa up onto it, his mouth demanding on hers. She whimpered her acquiescence, her fingers tugging at his shirt until she got most of the buttons undone, jerking the material until it came free. He slid his hands up her inner thighs, parting her, spreading her legs and pulling her forward so that she was on the edge of the desk.
“Should we—the window—” Thaisa panted, her hands stroking his chest in a highly distracting manner. He wanted to tell her to stop so he could concentrate his full attention on her, but her touch gave him too much pleasure to even think of stopping it.
“What about the window?” he murmured, enjoying the way she shivered when he dipped his head and licked the valley between her breasts. He pulled down her zipper, his hands removing the bra she insisted on wearing in order to keep her breasts hidden from him, her body trembling when he brushed his thumbs across the hard nipples. She was so easy to pleasure, so receptive to his every touch. He felt a sense of smugness about the way he could overwhelm her with just a touch of his fingers.
“Someone could see us.” She gently bit his nipple before swirling her tongue over it. He froze, the pleasure that spread out from his chest causing a tidal wave of dragon fire, sexual ecstasy, and desire, all twisted together.
“Privacy window,” he gasped, desperately wanting to give her the slow burn of pleasure to be found in foreplay but unable to maintain control of his passion. It was simply too much. She was too much. With a savage oath, he jerked her underwear off and freed himself, his mouth on the spot behind her ear that he knew she loved. “I can’t wait, flower.”
“Good,” she said, half gasping and half laughing when she reached between them, stroking his length until he thought he might just die from the pleasure, before positioning him exactly where she wanted him. “I’ve always been quick off the mark, so— Ooph!”
He lunged into her, very close to the edge. He gritted his teeth as he tried to slow down, tried desperately to think of something that would distract him and give him time to bring her to pleasure, but his mind was filled with her, with the sensation of her silky skin under his mouth, of her fingernails gently raking a line up his spine, of the way her intimate muscles tightened around him, gripping him with what felt like a hundred fingers. Then she made that noise, the little hum that warned she was going to give in to her climax, and it was all over for him. He moaned her name into her shoulder, his body pumping life into her even as his dragon fire spun around them, setting the sheaf of papers on the floor alight.
She spasmed around him, her fingernails digging into his ass, pulling him closer as wave after wave swept through her. Her breath was ragged and hot in his ear, and he knew at that moment what it truly meant to be mated. He’d always assumed a mate was like a competent second-in-command, a pleasure to have, someone with whom he wanted to spend time, but not vital to his life, not so deeply ingrained in his soul that he would never be able to separate himself from her.
He was wrong.
“Mate,” he said, his voice guttural, imbuing the word with everything she meant to him.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice shaky. “That was a hell of a thing, wasn’t it?”
“Now you see why it’s important that you not disturb me when I’m working,” he said, pulling himself from her with a real sense of regret.
“Uh-huh.” She leaned back on one arm, lifting a wan hand when he stamped out the fire on the floor and shook the ashy end off the papers. “You don’t h
appen to have a wheelbarrow, do you? If you could kindly roll me into it and wheel me somewhere I can recover, I’d be grateful.”
He felt a sense of male pride that their lovemaking had such a profound effect on her. As he bent to retrieve the tattered remains of her underwear that had fallen to the floor, he stumbled backward and fell on his ass.
“My poor undies,” she giggled, sliding off the desk, whereupon her legs buckled and she fell onto him. “I just got them mended last night, and now look.”
“We will get you more,” he said, taking possession of her breasts when she tried to pull up the bodice of her dress.
“You don’t need to. I have plenty back home. Speaking of which, I should head there soon. Jamie’s okay with opening the store, but with Edgar flying back today, I should be there. Zip, please. Archer, I really need that manuscript.”
Reluctantly, he released her breasts and allowed her to put her dress to rights, zipping it up when she turned for him. He couldn’t resist a little kiss on the back of her neck, just in the spot he would place the tribe mark later, at the binding ceremony. “You seem to be under the impression that I like repeating myself. I do not. The manuscript is mine.”
She accepted his hand when he got to his feet, wobbling against him as if her legs were still weak.
He was smug about that, too.
“Right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t want to tell you this, because I know the sort of reaction you’re going to have, and it’s my problem, thus I feel obligated to cope with it on my own, but since you’re clearly in dragon possessive mode, I have to. Edgar made it quite clear to me that if he does not get the manuscript back today, he will…well, he will harm my gran.”
“I will not allow that to happen,” he told her, holding her hips until he was sure her legs were steady again. He buttoned the part of his shirt that still had buttons and sat back down at the laptop. “I have already taken the matter in hand.”
“In hand how?” Her brows pulled together.
He fought the need to kiss the little wrinkle that formed between them. “I have verified that the facility in which your grandmother resides has a high quality of care. In addition, the financial situation of the home is reasonably solid, so you will have no worries that they will cease functioning for monetary reasons. The staff’s background checks do not reveal anything of concern, and finally, I have urged the company responsible for their security system to upgrade it at no cost to the facility. Two guards will watch over your grandmother for as long as they are needed.”
Thaisa’s jaw had sagged after his first few sentences, and it seemed to take her a bit before she said, “You did all that for Gran? Overnight?”
“Not by myself. I delegated some of the work. The background and financial checks were done by Miles.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, and then to his surprise, her eyes glistened with tears. “You did all that just to make sure Gran is okay. I’m speechless. No one has ever done anything even half as nice for me as what you’ve done in a few hours.”
“You are my mate,” he said simply. Although he hadn’t put protection for her grandmother in place just so Thaisa would look at him as if he were the most wonderful being who ever walked the earth, he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit to relishing the warm glow of gratitude in her eyes. “As for your former employer—he has no further role in your life. If you wish to return to your apartment to gather your belongings, I will send Miles with you.”
“See, that’s exactly what I knew you were going to say. While I’m…well, I guess I’m okay with the idea of moving in with you, since this house is beyond fabulous, and I’d be an idiot to turn it down in favor of my tiny little apartment, but you can’t just say things like Edgar doesn’t matter anymore. He does matter, to me.”
Archer shot her an outraged look.
“Not in that way,” she said quickly, poking him in the arm. “For the most part, I like my job. It’s interesting, and I enjoy doing it. And before you come over all high and mighty and annoy the crap out of me by telling me that I don’t need to work because you’ll support me—I was planning on quitting just as soon as I have you return the manuscript. Edgar has gone over the line this time, and I will not put my gran at risk just because he’s a selfish, uncaring ass.”
He looked at her, at her face with the eyes that held so much life in them, at her delectable mouth, at the little chin that, even as he knew it would, lifted a fraction of an inch. He thought about what it would mean to return the manuscript, and every atom of his being protested. And because she was his mate but was unlearned, he explained how it was. “Dragons do not give away the treasures they possess. It goes against our very natures. Do you understand, now?”
“I do,” she said, looking exasperated. “You bought the manuscript fair and square, and there’s no reason you should have to give it up to Edgar, except he made it quite clear—in language that told me I needed to quit my job after this—that if he doesn’t get it, there will be trouble. A lot of trouble. And people will suffer.”
“You do not understand yet,” he said, shaking his head and returning his gaze to the laptop screen. “But you will one day.”
He was aware of her standing next to him, fuming, little noises of frustration escaping her. Because he didn’t like her to be unhappy, he asked, “Do you wish to work on deciphering the manuscript before you go to your apartment? If you tell me when you wish to collect your things, I will inform Miles so that he will be ready to escort you. I would go myself, but evidently I have to fly to Phoenix to make the manufacturer understand the urgency of this situation.”
“Gah!” she said impotently, and he had the sense that she only just kept herself from stomping her foot in frustration.
He looked at her and waited.
“Fine!” she snapped, whirling around as she spoke. “I’ll take some pictures and spend three hours starting to decipher it, but no more. After that time, you have to let me take it back to Edgar.”
“I do not have to do anything,” he said mildly, amused despite himself when she slammed the door to his office. He would not tolerate such an obstreperous attitude from one of his tribe, but Thaisa’s defiance of his most reasonable statements gave him pleasure. He knew it would take her a bit of time to settle into their ways, but he was confident that she would eventually see the light.
Chapter Eleven
BY THE TIME I SAT AT THE DESK ARCHER HAD GIVEN over to me in order to work on the manuscript leaf, I was muttering under my breath and wishing I had one of the grimoires with me so that I could slap a couple of curses on a certain dragon.
Then I thought of how kind he was being about Gran, and my anger melted away into appreciation. “Edgar isn’t Archer’s problem, he’s mine, so it’s not fair for me to expect Archer to take care of it,” I said into the phone. “Especially when he’s being so generous by sending his own people to guard Gran. This is my problem, and I need to just handle it, right?”
“Right,” Bree agreed. “What do you want me to do?”
“You said to call you if I needed demon help, and I do. What better way to get Edgar to see that he can’t threaten Gran and get all up in my business than to have my pet demon scare the living crap out of him?”
“I like it!” she said. “We’ll teach him to talk nasty about Gran. His hat of many asses will learn a thing or to when Naamah visits, right?”
“Right. Maybe you can help me find a spell or something to make Naamah give up the prayer rug. Can you meet me at my apartment at”—I checked the clock above the desk—“say noon? I want to get a good three hours in on this manuscript so I can see what all the fuss is about.”
“Roger wilco, over and out, you betcha, Charlie,” she said.
“Time to weed the World War Two movies out of your Netflix queue,” I told her, and hung up.
I settled down to study the small sheet of vellum, using a pair of metal tweezers to touch it since Archer hadn’t thought
to get protective gloves. He did have a magnifying glass, which I used to go over the leaf, both sides, to look for signs of hidden writing. Most medieval manuscripts didn’t have what is colloquially called “invisible ink,” but I had seen one that had used a combination of alum and lemon juice to write literally between the lines of what was otherwise innocuous religious text.
This leaf was clear of that, however, which meant I could sit and let the code talk to me. Once again, I let my gaze slip along the carefully drawn lines, the symbols clearly written by the hand of master, but without meaning.
Yet.
Slowly, as I let my focus go a smidgen soft so that the symbols almost burred, frequent ones started popping up to catch my notice. Patterns of them swam in and out of my view, shifting and moving until they started to make sense. I noted the ones that were likely to be the most popular vowels, looking for small words first, since those would let me tackle the longer words.
My fingers danced over the pad of paper I’d borrowed, time seeming to slip past me without intruding on my concentration.
“How is it going?”
I jumped at the voice behind me and turned to find Miles.
“My apologies,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but Archer said you wished to pick up your clothing at noon, and it’s close to that now.”
The last thing I wanted was Miles hanging around while I consulted with Bree about how to use Naamah to the best effect. He was bound to tell Archer what I was doing, and I didn’t need Archer getting bossy on me. Again.
Plus there was something about Miles that made me a bit…the word suspicious hung in my mind, but I didn’t like to commit fully to it. I just had a sense that something about him was slightly off.
Regardless, I summoned a smile and gestured toward the manuscript. “Actually, I think I’m going to stay here and work on this for a bit longer. I can have Bree pick up whatever I need.” The last was a lie, but I added a little wattage to my smile in order to compensate for any tells toward that end.
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