Page 60 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

“If you try to eat me I’ll rub your eye ridges and kiss you on the nose until you roll over and purr like a kitten.”

But his eyelids dipped a little, as if he were thinking about getting his eye ridges rubbed. Holding her breath, Trish leaned over and really did kiss his nose.

His eyes snapped open. Trish held her breath.

Crap, he’s going to eat me, she thought.

Instead, he gave a disgusted snort, enveloping her in smoke. There was a momentary roar of wind like a giant vacuum cleaner, and then the dragon was gone and Emon was standing in front of her.

“Well,” he said. “That didn’t go as badly as I thought it might.”

“Me either,” she said. “He didn’t even singe me with that last snort.” He could have burned her like a torch.

“I can’t believe you kissed him.”

“Why not? It worked. It turned him into a prince.”

Emon laughed. “Not sure the prince is a better bargain.”

“He has his moments.” She put her arms around his neck, and he kissed her—hot, then warm and sweet, then gentle and tender.

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, both their hearts too full for words.

Then Emon said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I did a restoration spell on the clothes you were wearing the other night. When you Changed. I wouldn’t have wanted you to be without your purple confidence sneakers.”

He’d remembered they were her favorites. And he’d fixed them for her, even after she’d bitten him. Tears prickled her eyes. “I can’t believe you did that. Thank you.”

She held out her foot. “But I have a new favorite pair now.”

A smile flashed at the corner of his mouth and was gone. But it didn’t matter whether she saw the smiles or not.

She knew his secret now. These weren’t sunset colors at all. They were sunrise colors. Because deep down inside, he believed that the world wasn’t only darkness.

Eventually, if you were patient enough, the sun would come up.

Chapter 29

The following day, Emon came and found Trish in the lab around lunchtime. The other researchers eyed him warily as he clomped through in his heavy boots, still dressed all in black, looking like the Draken version of a biker gang leader.

Their mouths dropped open as he grabbed her, bent her backwards, and planted a toe-curling, panty-melting kiss on her.

“Trish is taking the afternoon off,” he said. “Don’t wait up.”

He swept her up and carried her out of the lab. There was a scattering of applause.

“Ooh, don’t tell me,” Trish said when they got out into the hallway. “You finally finished the sex dungeon.”

“Stop it. You know the words ‘sex dungeon’ always give me a boner. And no. I’ve been busy.”

“Well then, your unrequited boner is your own fault. If not the sex dungeon, then what?”

“I want to show you something. And then I’m taking you on a field trip, if you want.”

“I love field trips. Are you going to show me your boner first?”