“But that painting…”Cost her thousands of dollars, I finish in my head. “Why are you working for Connor when you’reyou?”
He draws a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Ahhh, it’s my privilege to serve him, but um, I believe it would be better if you spoke to him directly about our arrangement.” He gestures toward the hall. “He’ll be in soon. Please. Join me in the kitchen. I’ll fix you something.”
With one more glance over my shoulder at the wood-chopping porn happening beyond the windows, I follow Zaire into the kitchen where he seats me at a charming nook. He starts pulling things out of the warmer and setting them on the table. It’s more food than a family of four could eat. My stomach growls again, and I don’t refuse when he serves me a plate that looks like something from a magazine.
“Duck breast with pomegranate sauce, red potatoes, green beans,” he announces. “Connor took a chance that you like duck, but he left something else?—”
“I love it!” The bite I place on my tongue is a medley of perfectly seasoned duck meat with hints of a sweet pomegranate sauce that complements the flavor flawlessly.It’s so good I moan.
Zaire laughs. “It is his specialty. He’ll be glad to hear you like it.”
I can’t help but make more yummy sounds as I take another bite and then sip the coffee Zaire slid in front of me. “This is not what I was expecting when I learned I was being held hostage.”
The man’s eyebrows shoot skyward. “He’s holding you hostage?”
Before I can answer him, the door opens and I do a double take as a German shepherd the size of a small horse charges toward me.
Chapter Thirteen
CONNOR
Bones lopes into the cottage and goes straight for Fiona. I know the feeling. I’ve been chopping wood for the past several hours to try to cool my fever for her, and the moment I lay eyes on her, she’s all I can see. All I want to see.
All my blood rushes to my dick.
It doesn’t help that the clothes I bought for her are five hundred times more her style than that abomination Roman called a wedding dress or my sweatshirt. She looks relaxed and comfortable, her silky hair in shiny waves around her shoulders. The color is back in her cheeks too. She almost looks happy.Please, Creator, let her be happy.
“You found lunch,” I rumble, unable to keep the dragon out of my voice.
I watch her scratch Bones behind the ears and kiss him on top of his head. First jealous of a stuffed animaland now of my own dog. My inner dragon whimpers at the thought of those fingers touching me in that way. In any way.
“Yeah. Zaire helped me.” She looks up from the dog, and our eyes lock. My heart does an interpretive dance inside my chest. Very undragonlike. I’m in so much trouble.
“Good. I’m glad you’ve made each other’s acquaintance.” I give Zaire a knowing look, and he excuses himself from the room.
She waits until he’s gone to ask, “Why is one of the most famous artists in the world doing your dishes?”
I laugh. “Because he wants to be.”
Her brows pinch together. “No, seriously.”
“Seriously,” I say. “Zaire is here because he produces his best work when he’s feeding off my dragon energy. Living with me opens his mind and allows him to be his creative best, and in exchange, he serves as my Firetender.”
“Firetender?”
“Like a live-in butler,” I explain. “It’s a sacred position to my kind.”
Her mouth drops open. When she doesn’t say anything, I pour myself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table, although what I’d really like is a whiskey given that I sense the tension ratcheting up between us.
“So you’re like a muse or something?” she blurts. Her expression is a mixed bag of wonder and confusion.
I sip the coffee, staring at her over my cup. I trace the graceful line of her neck with my stare, wondering what her skin would taste like if I kissed her there.Take her, mydragon urges. I shove him down deeper within me. “I’m a dragon. It’s the nature of dragons. We were sent here by the creator to inspire humans, to help you evolve. Perhaps you’ve already felt my influence in that department. Have you made use of the laptop?”
She pushes a bean around her plate with her fork. “Yes. Thank you for that. And yes, it’s terribly strange, but I guess I can’t deny it. I have felt inspired today.”
Thank fuck. I hit her with my most charming smile. “Then you understand why Zaire stays.”
“Right.” She takes another bite. “But if youaresome kind of muse?—”
