She rested a hand over her pounding heart, the traitorous organ reacting to his promise and certainty.
When Carlo tried to tell her they belonged together, she was physically repulsed. His type of possession was a cruel and toxic thing.
When Cosimo's dragon said it, it made her feel like she was precious. A thing to keep safe.
Dragons cherish our treasures. We don't toss them away. A shiver rocked through Marcella, just thinking about his words. What had happened yesterday to make him start saying things like that to her?
She knew the dragon wasn't lying about the connection between them either. It was palpable when they were in the same room, a magnetic pull that dragged them together. They couldn't stop themselves from flirting with each other, no matter what lines in the sand they had drawn.
"Get through the meeting. Find Maria. Then figure out whatever this change in Cosimo is. One thing at a time. He said he would wait," Marcella lectured herself in the mirror.
Marcella sprayed on perfume and put the final touches to her lipstick. She was dressed for war in the only way she knew how—in a killer dress, high heels, and lips the color of blood.
She didn't want to only look presentable. She wanted to be confident and powerful. She wasn't going to face Carlo and Renata as the same crushed woman who had left Forli.
A part of her was also big enough to admit that she wanted to knock that sly little smile off Cosimo's face. If he had thoughtshe looked good that day in a pair of jeans, she was about to rock his world. That thought pleased her, and her mood lightened considerably.
He was a big, mighty dragon, but he was also a man, and Marcella wanted to rattle him as much as he had rattled her that day with his hot glances and possessive words.
They had always been rivals, and now she had a whole new way to drive him mad. Her smile widened. That dragon had been so irritatingly confident just now. He said he would wait for her. Well, she would certainly put his patience to the test.
There was a knock at the door a few minutes later. Marcella grabbed her purse and opened it, expecting Cosimo. What she found was Apollo and Lachlan, dressed to kill like she was. Lachlan let out a low whistle when he saw her, and Apollo's grin went impish.
"Are you trying to kill my father by wearing burgundy velvet? Because he is an old man, you know," he said and gestured at her to turn.
Marcella did and said, "Your father isn't old. He's only gotten to the stage where men get interesting."
Apollo shook his head. "He's a dragon, and you look like dinner. You're going to drive him crazy, so we'll have to make sure he doesn't do something rash like snapping your ex in half."
"I might just let him," Marcella said, trying not to think of her being Cosimo's dinner. She was having a hard enough time controlling her lustful urges around him.
They were quickly joined by the rest of the Greatdrakes children and their mates. They were all dressed to impress. The men and Bridget were in bespoke suits with their shirts the colors of their dragons, and Yelena and Charlotte were in dresses to match their mates.
"You will have to give me the name of your tailor. You all look incredible," Marcella said, beaming at them.
"We didn't want to embarrass you by not looking the part," Reeve replied. His usual easy boho style had also been polished up for the evening. "We want to be your dragon mafia bodyguards."
Marcella was still laughing when the door across the hall opened, and Cosimo came out. His eyes caught hers, and every comprehensive thought ceased and witty comment died on her lips.
The man sure knew how to wear a suit. It was black, and three-piece, with a shirt the same dark purple as his dragon. A silver tie pin, the shape of a Celtic dragon, gleamed on his black silk tie.
Cosimo looked at her like she was the only thing that existed. She felt like a very small rabbit faced with a hungry wolf. She didn't move as the other Greatdrakes cleared a path for him. He closed in on her and lifted her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.
Marcella's pussy clenched as his stubble and warm lips pressed to her knuckles and then the inside of her wrist.
"I… We should…" she stammered, embarrassed by her visceral reaction to him and still unable to form words through the haze of desire that was clouding her.
"We are going to be late," Valentine called from where they were hanging out in front of the elevator. "Be awkward with each other later."
"Nothing awkward about us," Cosimo told Marcella and held out his arm to her. She took it and tried not to turn her head to his shoulder just to get a better smell of his aftershave. She was so doomed.
"Speak for yourself. You are making me have very awkward thoughts right now," Marcella whispered. A heat that had been building low in her stomach for days ignited into a wildfire the moment he drew close.
"Awkward isn't the word I'd use when I look at you in that dress," Cosimo said, giving her a sideways glance that went from her face and down to the sweetheart neckline that showed off the tops of her breasts. Every feminine part of her tingled in response.
Marcella couldn't resist asking, "No? What words would you use?"
"Covetous," Cosimo admitted, his eyes all dragon. "And murderous."
