“Let’s get dressed,” she said, her lips pink with a fadedlipstick stain. There was kajal smudged around her eyes, and her hair was messy.
Slipping on a silk robe, she showed him to the guest bathroom, where he showered and got dressed. By the time he was out, she was perfectly done up again, all signs of last night gone as they went to the kitchen.
There, he sat at the counter while they discussed the merits of various coffee-brewing techniques, pour-over versus drip versus cold brew. He didn’t know she was as enthusiastic about coffee as he was.
“You’re as bad as me,” he said, and she smiled from across the counter.
“I like all types of coffee, but I feel like pour-over gives the best flavor profile,” she said, pulling out a bag of coffee from the cabinet to put in the grinder. “I just wish the roast was darker.”
“I get this brand, too,” he said, recognizing the label. “That is, unfortunately, the darkest profile there is.”
As the coffee beans ground, someone entered the kitchen with a baby dragon in her arms; it must have been her family’s dragon caretaker. Emmeline left the coffee grinder to scoop the black-scaled baby dragon into her arms.
“Are you up from your nap?” Emmeline asked her baby dragon, carrying her over. She set the dragon down on the counter. “This is Torch,” Emmeline told Luke.
“Hello, angel,” Luke said, holding a hand out to Torch. She looked at Luke hesitantly, purple eyes assessing, but then slowly stepped closer. Luke touched his hand to Torch’s cheek, and the baby dragon hissed at the contact. Her scales were hot, and Luke withdrew his hand.
“My hands are cold,” Luke said.
“She hates that,” Emmeline affirmed. Torch opened her mouth wide, then sparked out a little flame in the direction of Luke’s hand. The heat immediately warmed his fingers, but he fanned the flame away before it caught on his shirt-sleeve.
Emmeline chided, “Torch, we don’t shoot fire at people. I’ve told you this already!”
“Hey—” Luke started, standing, just as Emmeline’s gaze fell to the flames on the half-empty bag of coffee. Grabbing a towel, Emmeline swatted at the bag until the flames subsided.
An idea flickered in Luke’s mind. At the same time, Emmeline turned to him with wide eyes.
“What if—” They both said at the same time.
Luke laughed. “You go.”
“Dragon fire is intense,” Emmeline said. “What if I roasted coffee with a dragon’s flame?”
They were so similar; pleasure bloomed in his chest. “I was just thinking that,” Luke said, “though more so in terms of a chimera. I’ve got a baby chimera at home—Sharptooth.”
“Dragon-roasted coffee,” Emmeline said. He could see the gears in her head turning.
“And chimera-roasted coffee,” he added. “That would make a good business. Maybe we can be business partners.”
Emmeline brewed the coffee, and they hung out for it, enjoying one another’s company—until she showed her true face and broke his heart.
“It wasn’tyouridea,” Luke said, snapping back to the present, to him and Emmeline in the bookshop. “It was ours.”
She furrowed her brows, though recognition flickered inher dark eyes. Coals of anger burned to life within him. He couldn’t believe it. She really didn’t remember.
“You may have gotten Inferno up and running two years before Tempest,” he said hotly, “but that’s only because I actually had to spend time finding investors. Daddy didn’t just hand me the money.”
Her lips parted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” he pressed. “What twenty-two-year-old gets together enough capital to start her own business?”
“I worked hard, just like anyone else,” she replied, but her voice had lost some of its edge.
“Poor little rich girl,” he sneered.
Her face twisted. “So what if my father helped me out?”
“So nothing. Just don’t accuse me of copying your idea when it wasours.”
