Page 42 of Red Dragon’s Flame

But his dick—which was definitely a barbarian and not a gentleman—had the good-morning-I’m-sleeping-next-to-a-beautiful-woman happys and was straining against his pants, all too aware of every place her body was touching his.

Fantasies of unwrapping Devon like a birthday present and kissing every sensual curve before plunging into her soft core crept into his mind and wouldn’t go away. He wanted to touch all of her, to bind her to him so that she’d never leave.

his dragon said.

Mikah said, I’m pretty sure she’s not the kind of woman who cares about gold and jewels.

his dragon said.

Good question. Especially a mate who’d never even had a friend, let alone a boyfriend.

And when the hell had he started thinking about her as his mate? As of yesterday, they were online videogame buddies. Now…

He couldn’t think; having her so close was driving him crazy. In desperation, he got up and grabbed paper and a pen from the desk under the window, leaving a note on his pillow.

I had a few things to take care of, and I didn’t want to wake you. We’ll get you some breakfast when I come back—you’ll never find the dining room without directions and a map. Later on I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone. If you need me, just talk to the tiny dragon. M.

Mikah stopped in to talk to Emon, and find out who he’d consulted about the Allohim. As he’d expected, it was Thorne Greystone and his brother Tyr.

Thorne was the oldest dragon on earth, as far as anyone knew, and he’d grown up around older dragons straight from the Dragonlands. He might have heard something about Allohim in the distant past.

And Tyr was earth’s foremost dragon historian, an expert in myths, legends and their origins. He kept a huge archive in his lair. Between them, they were the most likely to come up with something.

They also probably wouldn’t tell anyone, which would be good. They last thing they needed was the Shifter Council trying to get involved.

After clearing up some paperwork—and having to do most of it twice because he couldn’t think about anything but Devon—Mikah gave up and headed back to see if she was awake.

He stopped in the dining room just before the staff cleared breakfast away. Grabbing a tray, he snagged a bacon and egg sandwich—he could warm it up for Devon before she ate—and some of his favorite pastries, with cream cheese and cherry jam. She might like those.

And some doughnuts, in case Devon liked those better. And a chocolate chip muffin, because who didn’t like chocolate chips?

He added two cups of coffee, with a little pitcher of cream and some sugar lumps. And then a cup of tea, in case she didn’t like coffee. And then some hot chocolate, because what if she didn’t like either one?

Feeling like a total idiot, he carried his overloaded tray of indecision up to Devon’s room—and found that all his effort had been wasted. She wasn’t there.

She’d probably just gotten bored and gone exploring, he told himself, stifling his ridiculous hurt feelings. Why should she sit around here waiting for him to show up?

She must have found clothes in the wardrobe, because the granny nightgown had been hung up.

Mikah frowned at it disapprovingly. It had not done its job—he’d still ended up with sexual fantasies and a boner the size of Mount Vesuvius.

his dragon said, also in a disapproving mood but for different reasons.

Mikah actually felt the same, but he didn’t want to encourage his dragon because if a kid like Michelangela felt trapped by having someone constantly babysitting her, then Shadowfire—deadly assassin and black-hat hacker—would probably annihilate him and his dragon if he even suggested it.

He hadn’t forgotten the throwing knife sticking out of the chest of her human attacker. She wasn’t as helpless as his dragon wanted to believe.

But that didn’t stop him from going after her right away. Luckily, he had his stalker backup.

He picked up Devon’s dragon statue from where she’d set it on the night table, and said her name. The nightlight glow got brighter, and it pulled his hand in the direction of the door.

The little statue was keyed to both of them. If she used it, it would call Mikah to her. If he used it, it would lead him to her. He put it in his pocket and picked up the tray again, following the slight pressure from the statue. He hoped Devon wouldn’t realize he’d basically put a tracker on her, and would think, when he found her, that he was just that good.

It turned out, when he did find her, that he should have known where she was. In the castle’s server room. Centrally located, lots of shadows to hide in, no windows for flying monkeys. Filled with her favorite things—computers and quiet.

Devon looked up guiltily when he opened the door. She was sitting on the floor with one of the server maintenance keyboards on her lap, the screen she was working with tilted down so she could see it.

He crouched down beside her, setting the tray on the floor where she could reach it. “Whatcha doing?” he asked casually.