I feel my face grow cold. I know the ring he means, although I don’t remember any inscription. Roman told me it was a class ring for a British boarding school. “It’s a common quote,” I mutter.
“It’s the motto of the Saint’s Order, a secret society sworn to kill dragons.”
“Kill you?” I laugh. “Who would try to kill you? You’re the size of a house.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as if that amuses him. “You watched Roman shoot at us with a crossbow. Those weren’t toy bolts.”
I open my mouth but can think of no response to that. Instead, I fill it with another piece of bacon. “So you are suggesting to me that Roman is a member of a secret society.”
“He’s the son of the grandmaster. A VIP of the Order.”
I snort and shake my head. “There has to be another explanation.”
Connor huffs. “That was a statement, not a question. How well do you even know this guy?”
My shoulders hunch defensively. “Well enough to marry him.”
“But not well enough to know he is part of a secret society formed to kill or enslave dragonkind.”
I take another swig of coffee. “You have to be mistaken. Secret societies are my specialty. I think I would have noticed?—”
“Right,” Connor drawls. “Because you write those, uh…”
“Alex Rogue thrillers. About a character who solves murders committed by cults and secret societies.” I take another sip. “Well, I used to. Not writing much lately,obviously, what with the engagement and wedding. I’ve been busy. And now this.” I slide my hand through the air, indicating my general circumstances, then thumb the stupidly large engagement ring on my finger.
His entire demeanor changes, his smile fading and his presence becoming like a darkening storm gathering above me. I set the coffee down and lean deeper into the pillows. I don’t feel like I’m in danger with him, but something I’ve said has definitely pissed him off.
“How long have you known Roman?” His timbre is low and commanding again.
Do I admit that it’s only been a month? That our relationship was never physical? For some reason, I don’t want to talk to this… dragon about Roman. It’s none of his business anyway. I shouldn’t be cooperating. “I need to rest.”
“Never mind.” Lightness is back in his eyes, as if the storm has passed. “None of my business.”
I hold up a hand when he tries to feed me anotherbite. “If I eat any more, I’ll burst.” I feel wasteful. There’s enough left for two more people.
He cuts another bite and feeds himself, using the same fork he used to feed me. I guess he’s not worried about germs. Another bite and his eyes flick up to mine. Slowly, meticulously, he finishes everything left on the tray, licking the remaining syrup off the tines of the fork with the flat of his tongue.
Everything south of my bottom rib clenches, and my brain gives me a very vivid fantasy of that tongue between my legs.
Ugh, why did he have to be my kidnapper? Even racked with pain, my body knows that being with this man would be a religious experience. I squeeze my eyes shut against the rogue thought. I’m engaged to Roman. I’m sure Roman will be perfectly acceptable in bed. I try to picture it. I can’t.
Connor flashes me an insouciant grin and lifts the tray from my lap. “Rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to take your next pill.”
Chapter Nine
CONNOR
Imanage to hold it together long enough to gently close Fiona’s door. My. Mate. Did. Not. Sleep. With. My. Enemy. Praise the creator! When I asked her about him, I didn’t feel a shred of emotion for him down our bond. But that image she sent me when I licked her fork…. She is not unaffected. I didn’t broach the subject of her being my mate again, but that will come with time. Deep down, she already knows she’s mine. I have to trust in that.
As I see it, I have a few things going for me. She doesn’t know I can read her thoughts when she projects them down our bond. Plus I’m sure I’ve convinced her that Roman isn’t the man she thought he was. Fuck, Roman convinced her of that himself when he shot at her. Stupid fucker. All I have to do now is get her to accept me as her mate. I snort. I’ve never had troubleseducing women in the past. Once she’s healthy, I’ll have her on her back in no time.
My smile eases wider as I set the tray down in the kitchen, then break into a touchdown dance, thrusting my fists into the air.
“I take it things are going well.” Seb’s dark laugh comes from the family room. It’s an overcast day and the room is dim. I didn’t see him there, waiting in the shadows.
I lower my arms and clear my throat, playing it cool. Pretending he didn’t just see me do a happy dance in my kitchen. “Seb,” I say in an artificially low voice. “I was just, uh…” I can’t think of any reasonable excuse, so I point in the general direction of the sink and trail off.
“Never mind.” He rises from a leather chair and strides toward me. Once he steps into the light, his face betrays his true emotions. Dark circles stain the skin under his eyes and his expression is bracketed by lines of deep strain.
