Francine checked over her shoulder. She meant to look back at the trucker immediately—after his sudden change in attitude, she didn’t want him out of her sight any longer than was necessary—but when she saw Julian, she paused.
The dark scales around his eyes were back, growing out over his cheekbones and down his jaw. The car’s lights caught on a glint of too-sharp teeth.
Francine took his hand. His skin was cool. Clammy. She wrapped her fingers around his and turned back to the driver.
He’s hesitating. Take advantage of that. But maybe not by riling him up this time.
“He’s sick,” she said coolly.
“What is it? Is he contagious?” He took another step backwards.Good.
“It’s…” Francine hesitated deliberately, her eyes flicking side to side. “Not …technically… contagious…”
The trucker backed off. “Okay, whatever. You do you, lady.”
Francine watched him go, eyes sharp, not blinking until his truck was out of sight.
She’d barely been able to see him in the dark with the truck lights ruining her night vision. That had never been a problem before. And she’d gone on the attack with no bite to back up her bark. Literally and metaphorically.
Julian made a pained noise. Francine blinked the light-echo of the disappearing truck from her eyes and turned to him.
He was still leaning—collapsed, really—against the seat back, his chest heaving. As he saw Francine looking at him, he raised one eyebrow.
“Perhaps,” he said, and hesitated. She watched his throat move as he caught his breath. “Perhaps it would be less noticeable if you stayed visible while driving at high speed where people can see you.”
“You were shielded. I needed to be able to check on you.”
“Check on me?” His lips twitched. “Do I look in any shape to run away?”
“I don’t want to be caught with a dead dragon shifter in my passenger seat,” she retorted, then bit down on the inside of her cheek.
That was not the sort of thing you said to your just-discovered fated mate. Butcold-hearted bitchwas her default, especially when she was stressed, or scared.
And she was scared now.
He looks worse than he did before.
Her face must have betrayed what she was thinking, but Julian didn’t mention it. She glared at the windscreen—she couldn’t even look his reflection in the eye—and his expression smoothed out.
“Kind of you to care,” he said, throwing the words out casually. “As it happens, that wouldn’t—won’t be a problem. And I have no intention of dying tonight.”
“That’s not something people usually get a choice about.”
“What luck, then, that I find myself in such good hands. You seem determined to keep me alive.”
Julian closed his eyes. Francine could see the effort it took him to concentrate. The scales sank back into his skin, and he let out a slow breath.
Francine’s knuckles went white.In good hands? If only you knew.
Julian didn’t know the truth about her, and why she was doing this. Hecouldn’tknow. If he did—
Francine shook her head. That would make things too complicated. And everything was complicated enough already.
She glanced sideways at the dragon shifter. Her sides still stung where his claws had bitten into her as they leaped out the window, escaping the explosion that had destroyed the house. She gulped. If they hadn’t turned and run when they did…
But we did. Everything worked out. This time.
Her eyes lingered on the dragon longer than she had intended. He wasn’t looking at her; if he was, she might have found it easier to look away. But he was staring out at the road ahead, and Francine found her gaze drawn to him time and again.
