Then she reached for her body lotion and propped her foot on the rim of the bathtub to rub lotion on her irritated skin.
A large bright, angry red patch covered the expanse of her thigh. Freezing, she stared at her leg. Then she looked over her shoulder again at the reflection of her still blotchy face.
“Oh, God,” she sighed. This was the last thing she needed.
She hadn’t said it very loudly, but her mate had ears sharper than any other creature she had ever personally met. Dragos said from the bedroom, “What is it?”
“I’m all blotchy,” she complained.
He appeared in the doorway, frowning as he took in her appearance. “Did you eat any of the hors d’oeuvres?”
“Yes, but I made sure to ask if they were vegan first. I always do.”
His frown deepened as he touched her leg with one forefinger. He motioned for the bottle, and when she handed it to him, he began to spread body lotion gently over her leg. “Recipes can be sneaky. Maybe the servers made a mistake, and something had a trace of meat, fish or dairy in it. Do you feel nauseated at all?”
She was vegan, not only by choice, but by nature too. Her digestive system simply didn’t recognize any meat, fish, or dairy products as food.
“No, but I’m still wearing the diamond necklace.” She made a face at him. “I don’t want to be blotchy this week, not while the world’s going to hell in a handbasket.”
He studied her with narrowed eyes. “Take the necklace off.”
Sighing, she complied. As soon as the pendant left contact with her skin, her stomach heaved. Tossing it with a clatter onto the nearby counter, she lunged for the toilet.
While she struggled to rid herself of everything in her stomach, strong hands came down on her, one cupping her forehead and the other bracing her back. Feeling too sick to indulge in self-consciousness, after she finished vomiting, she leaned her trembling body against his large, steadier frame.
“That was utterly vile,” she muttered.
He stroked the damp hair off her face. “It’s better to throw up than have it take the long way through your system. Hopefully after a good night’s sleep, you’ll feel better by morning.”
“True.”
After he helped her to her feet, she brushed her teeth again and followed him to bed. He opened his arms to her, and she crawled over to curl around his long, stretched out frame. Comfort sank deep. Nuzzling the bare, warm skin of his shoulder, she closed her eyes.
Just before she fell asleep, the tired fog lifted from her mind and she remembered.
She had been nauseated well before eating the hors d’oeuvres that evening, and her skin had begun to feel irritated too.
Time to make an appointment to see Dr. Medina when they got back home.
Then darkness called, and she was unable to resist its inexorable pull.
When awareness dawned next, she discovered that she had curled on her side, and Dragos lay spooning her from behind. The room lay in deep shadow, although a sliver of light at the edge of the curtain indicated it was close to dawn.
His warm mouth traveled across the nape of her neck, while he stroked her torso from breast to hip. His large, hot erection pressed against her buttocks.
“Good morning, lover,” he whispered in her ear. “How are you feeling—any better?”
“Mmm,” she murmured, luxuriating in a long, all-over body stretch that might also have made her brush all along the length of his body as well. She adored the feeling of his body next to hers, dark bronze skin covering sleek, iron hard muscles and sprinkled with black, silken hair. It was beyond a doubt the very best way to wake up in the mornings. Rolling onto her back, she rubbed her face against his chest. “Still tired, but okay.”
He cupped her breast and pressed a gentle kiss against the jut of her nipple. “Okay enough for this?”
She took stock. Her muscles ached and her thigh still itched, but none of it could dispel a growing sense of hunger for him. “I want to,” she admitted. “But I don’t feel very rambunctious.”
“We’ll go slow and easy this time,” he promised. “I can do all the work. You can lie back and count your pows.”
Delighted, she snickered as she tilted her face up for his kiss. “You offer a bargain so good I can’t resist.”
He cupped the back of her head, supporting her neck as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her gently, deeply. A sense of golden well-being suffused her, physical pleasure mingling with the emotional.
He was so good, so good. He was more fierce and demanding than anyone else she had ever known, but he was also the tenderest of lovers too, and he handled her as if she were a treasure beyond compare.
It was impossible to maintain worry when she was in his arms, impossible to hold on to anything negative or isolating. When they were together, they were all in, utterly immersed in each other, invested completely in this intangible, essential thing they had developed between them. Nothing else existed.
Trailing light kisses along her body, he nipped at her breasts gently and suckled at the stiff, sensitive peaks of her nipples. While he caressed and licked at her, she quested down his body with one hand, running her fingers through the silken tract of hair low on his tight, flat abdomen until she located his erection.
Closing her fingers around his cock, she massaged the long, thick length. His skin felt like silk stretched over iron. Using the ball of her thumb, she rubbed circles along the broad tip of his penis.
In response, he exhaled hard and flexed his hips so that he pushed against the palm of her hand, while his mouth traveled up the line of her neck to caress her lips again.
He wasn’t a man filled with soft words or poetry, and it was rare for him to say that he loved her. But he told her in so many different ways, the lack of soft words and poetry never mattered, not in the slightest.
He told her through the touch of his lips, and the depth of emotion expressed in every caress of those callused, powerful hands. He told her in the amount of attention he paid to every detail of her life, and the way his hard face would light up whenever she entered a room.
He told her every time he put his arm around her, or complained at her absence. This, from a male who did not tolerate the presence of others very well in general.
In a thousand different ways, he made her feel cherished and valued, and this bout of lovemaking was no different. He was as good as his word, and even though she could feel his rising heat and hunger, running like lava underneath his skin and hardening his big, tough frame, he never once broke out of the gentle pace he set for himself.
Using just his fingers, he stroked her to climax, and only when she had eased out of the shaking pulse of completion did he come between her legs to settle his hips against hers and push into her entrance easily, carefully.
A hot wave of emotion washed through her as she felt his cock entering her. Both physical and emotional pleasure lit her up entirely. She wound her arms and legs around him, cradling him with her whole body, trying to tell him without words just how important he was to her too.
At this one place, their conversation was unchanging.
Here I am, her cradling body said to him. I’ll be your home.
Looking deep into her eyes, he began to move. Here I am, his body said to her. I’ll cover you and keep you safe.
At this one place, his normal possessive nature shifted. At any other time, he told her in a dozen ways, you are mine.
But here, in this one place, he told her, I’m yours.
His own climax took him over, and he gave it to her. She watched him without blinking, without hardly breathing, stroking his face as he gave her everything he had.
After staying with her for long moments, he eased away, reached for the tissues on the bedside table, and helped her to clean off her inner thighs. Then he pulled her with him, so that they rested with their legs entwined. Utterly drained and satisfied in the best way possible, she buried her face against his chest and fell deeply
asleep again.
When she woke next, she was alone in the bed. Rolling over, she took stock of her immediate surroundings. While the room still remained in deep shadow, a bright yellow band of sunlight along the edges of the curtains told her the day had advanced significantly.
Dragos wasn’t anywhere in the room. The open door to the bathroom revealed that it was empty and quiet. He had left her to sleep in.
She tsked softly, partly in exasperation but mostly in contentment. There was so much to do that day—so much—but she couldn’t deny that it had felt really good to get her sleep out.
As she rolled to her side of the bed, she saw a piece of paper resting on the bedside table. Picking it up, she saw that it was covered with Dragos’s bold scrawl.
No need to come with me this afternoon. Try to relax today. The staff can take care of everything for tonight. – D
Try to relax, when the president, the vice president, the speaker of the House, both the majority and minority leaders of the Senate, and all the demesne leaders, along with their spouses and personal security retinues were coming to the Wyr residence for dinner?
“I love you,” she told the note. “But sometimes you are a foolish, foolish man. Although undeniably a very handsome, sexy one.”
Kissing the paper, she set it aside, called down to the kitchen to request a pot of coffee and a bowl of fresh fruit and then she got out of bed.
As soon as she stood upright, nausea punched her, hard and wicked, and more powerful than ever. She bolted to the bathroom, and her body twisted into wretched spasms.
Finally, she was able to sit back on the floor and take in a deep breath. Instinctively, she scanned her body again. Still no baby.
She didn’t have time to mourn the lack of a tiny life spark within her. Damn it. Damnity damn damn it. Her leg itched furiously, and as she scratched it, the itching grew even worse. She looked down at herself.
Her thigh was redder than ever, a dark, angry color, and covered in bumps.
A knock sounded at the door. Pia rolled to her feet. Swirling nausea gripped her by the throat. She grabbed for the diamond pendant, slung it on, and the nausea subsided. She called out, “Who is it?”
“Eva. I’ve got your breakfast tray.”
Her bathrobe hung on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. She snatched it and put it on. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Eva carried the tray inside. As the other woman set it on the bedside table, Pia strode up to her and yanked one flap of the robe aside to bare her thigh. “What is this?” she demanded. “Do you know?”
Eva turned to look at her leg, and her eyebrows rose. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “Looks likes hives to me.”
“Hives?” Pia was trying to avoid scratching at it, but the itching was driving her crazy. “Isn’t that what happens when you’re allergic to something?”
“Yeah. What’d you do, eat something you shouldn’t have?”
“No.” She frowned. She had also never before had such an extreme reaction to eating something she shouldn’t. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Well, if you’re allergic to something, you might react within a couple of hours, but it can take up to seventy-two hours for food poisoning to set in, so you could be reacting to something you ate as long as three days ago,” Eva said. “It could take you a couple of days to get over it.”
Pia tried to think back, but she had no idea what she had eaten three days ago. She hadn’t been paying attention . . . although she was pretty sure she had eaten everything from home that day, so the food should have been safe.
She growled in frustration and dashed back to the bathroom to look at her reflection. Her skin was still pale and blotchy. She threw up her hands. Great, just bloody great.
“Maybe you should see a doctor?” Eva had followed her to the bathroom and was watching her with a troubled expression.
“See a Wyr doctor in D.C.?” Snorting, she turned away from the offending mirror. “Good luck finding one. Humans take over-the-counter medication for allergies. It’s called antihistamines. Have you heard of it before?”
Eva rubbed her face. “Yeah.”
Her gaze met Eva’s. “I’ll put in a call to Dr. Medina, but in the meantime, get me some antihistamines. I don’t care what brand. I’m going to make it through this day if it kills me.”
But first, she was going to take a shower to see if that would calm down the infernal itching, at least until Eva could get back with the medication. Eva took off, while she showered, smothered her leg in lotion and dressed in jeans and a light silk sweater.
Thank the gods, Dragos had taken off some time ago to attend the day’s functions without her. She drank a quick cup of coffee, ate a few bites of fruit, and called the doctor’s office.
Dr. Medina was busy dealing with an emergency, the office manager told her, but she would be sure to return Pia’s call as soon as she could. Pia hung up, went to the vanity and smoothed another ten pounds of makeup on her face to hide her blotchy complexion, until she looked more or less normal.
Then Eva returned with several different packages of antihistamines. Together, they scanned the dosage directions.
“Don’t operate any heavy machinery, may cause drowsiness. . . .” Eva read aloud.
Pia popped a dose out of foil wrap and swallowed them. “Or in other words, keep the coffee coming.”
“You sure you feel up to this?” Eva pursed her lips in concern.
“I am totally up for this,” Pia said grimly. “Let’s go.”
With that, she plunged into the day’s preparations. It seemed that everyone had saved up at least a dozen questions to ask her. There was a mistake on the order of fresh flowers. Would the substitutes do? What about the seating arrangements for dinner?
Thankfully, her leg stopped itching after about a half an hour or so. When the doctor returned her call, a couple of hours later, she was so busy she let the phone call roll to voice mail. She could call Dr. Medina back in the morning.
The afternoon sped by too fast. Dragos arrived back at the residence in a foul mood. He was standing in the middle of the foyer watching staff scurry past, his hands on his hips, when Pia found him.
“How did your day go?” she asked.
“I hate people.”
He sounded grumpy, but no more than usual when he had to deal with a lot of people. She held her face up to him. He took his time kissing her and did such a thorough job, she was flushed and laughing when he finally lifted his head again. “How are things going here?”
She looked around. “You might not be able to tell by looking, but it’s a controlled kind of panic. It’s just as well I didn’t go with you today—there was too much to do here, but I think I can let go and get ready for the evening now. Come upstairs with me?”
“I will in a minute. I’m going to get a scotch, and I want to talk to Bayne first.”
“Okay.” She left him to jog up the stairs to their suite.
Last night, the outfit she wore was classic chic. Tonight, should she go romantic and wear the midnight blue dress? Or perhaps sophisticated with the silk taupe pantsuit?
Upstairs, the bedroom had been cleaned and straightened, and the packages of antihistamines had been stacked on the bedside table. Seeing them reminded her.
She kicked off her jeans to inspect her thigh. It hadn’t itched for several hours, but the patch of skin was still red and angry looking. So, the hives had gone down some, but the irritation wasn’t gone. She was masking a symptom, not eradicating the problem.
Sighing, she grabbed at the open package. After double-checking the instructions, she swallowed another dose.
There was no way she was going to try to take off the pendant at this point. Later tonight, she could take it off and see how she was really doing then.
Because nothing short of a full-scale natural disaster was going to keep her from getting through the dinner party this evening.
Chapter Seven
&nbs
p; Downstairs, Dragos ran over security plans for the evening with Bayne. Every Wyr would be on duty that night to make sure the perimeter of the property was guarded tightly. All the nearby streets were cordoned off for three blocks in every direction, and guards were mounted on the tops of nearby buildings.
Inside, while the house was too old to have a modern-day security system running through the walls, Bayne had installed tiny hidden wireless cameras in every room, which were monitored in the security room in the basement, behind the wine cellar. The house’s Wi-Fi network was a closed system, and it was backed up with an electric generator and a second server. They were as secure as modern technology could make them.
None of it calmed the dragon’s uneasiness at staying in an unfriendly city. All the security in the world wouldn’t protect the building from a long-range missile strike.
That was an extreme, highly unlikely scenario, but extreme shit happened. While he knew that the other demesnes, along with the different human police agencies, would also be on high alert throughout the city, he didn’t like to trust his safety or that of his mate to other people’s efforts.
Compulsively, he went below to make sure the openings to every tunnel had not been accidentally blocked off by all the trunks, boxes and furniture accrued over the last hundred and twenty years.
Yes, he was paranoid, but he had also been hunted before, several times throughout the ages. Being paranoid and untrusting had kept him alive, and he was vitally interested in maintaining that status quo.
Finally, he went upstairs to find the bedroom in chaos.
Pia had thrown different outfits along with matching jewelry sets on the bed. Small cardboard boxes littered one of the tables. As he raised his eyebrows and looked around, he found her crouched in front of the closet. She was wearing her dressing gown, her hair was rolled up in the hot curlers again, and she was busy pulling out shoes.