Dragon Her Back (Entangled Covet) (10 page)

“They’ve no right to you that you don’t permit.”

“They aren’t like the rest of us,” she insisted. “They consider me their property, and they’ll take me back by force.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

His dragon surged under his skin at her lack of faith in him. The feeling was primal and outdated, probably as old as the traditions she said were still in effect with her water dragons, but it was how he felt, dammit.

At least now, he knew what was going on.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “We’re not running.” He slipped his fingers under her shirt, feeling the silken smoothness of her back. He gathered her close to his chest, and she went willingly into his arms. “No one is taking you anywhere.”

The next few hours would require the right moves and counter moves to tilt the outcome their way. Purpose settled over him and a raw satisfaction. They would be victorious, and finally Mei would be his.

“We’re a team,” he said. “We’re going to turn this into something good.”

She looked up at him like she wanted it to be true. “How’re you going to turn this around?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m not worried.” At her doubtful look, he added, “Not in the slightest.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

He refused to get aggravated again. They had time before his query was done and Quan arrived. He kissed the side of her neck, feeling the exact moment when her worry gave way to interest. Small interest, but he could work with that.

He pulled his shirt over his head, wanting to feel her skin under his.

“That has the looks of a solution.” She smiled, but the corners of her mouth drooped slightly.

Picking her up, he turned and set her on the edge of the elevated stage so that their hips were level. “You ever done it under a neon light?” He unbuttoned her shirt, and her lacy white bra glowed in the stage’s black lights.

“No.”

“It’s guaranteed to fix what ails you.”

“Oh yeah?” She shook her head, sadness in her downcast expression. “That would be nice.”

“Yeah.” He grabbed her hands and pushed them to his skin. She took the encouragement and slipped her hands under the loose waistband as she had done on the dance floor. His cock swelled hard, throbbing, insistent. He fought the need to rush things, wanting to bring her along with him.

“I’m afraid what ails me can’t be fixed.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Gently, he peeled off her clothes so that she sat naked on the edge of the stage except for her ballet flats.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, stroking a hand down the tip of her breast.

He lifted her feet and removed the flats, and then kissed the arch of each foot. Mei leaned back on her elbows on the stage, and he trailed his mouth up her calf to the sweet place behind her knee. “You taste good, too.”

She looked down her body at him, her lids heavy and her expression unreadable. He continued up her thighs to her sex. He circled the nub with his tongue, carefully, gently, until her knees fell open, and she twisted and bucked under him.

She moaned, moving her hips in time with his mouth. He used his thumb and finger to thrust and retreat, holding her still with his left arm, increasing the pressure, until she began to shake.

“You owe me ten minutes of truth.” He pulled back and watched her face, smiling when she stilled.

She jerked up to her elbows to frown at him. “Now?”

“Now.”

“You said that was optional.” Mei scooted down the stage, wrapping her legs around his waist so that their faces aligned. She cupped him through his shorts, smiling mischievously.

Bright lights danced behind his closed eyes, and he hissed in a sharp breath of longing. He focused, controlling his need to bury himself balls deep in her. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.” She slipped her hand back into the loose band of his shorts and stroked upward and then down his throbbing length. Need balled in his gut, and his knees weakened. He leaned against the stage edge for support and pushed against her hand with his hips. Her hand stilled, trapped.

Like the water?
He reached into her mind with mind speak, focusing his thoughts to connect with hers.

“What are you doing?” She yanked her hand away from him.

“Testing your answer.”

“Why would I lie to you about my favorite color?” Her black eyes flashed at him, backlit in neon.

“Why would you lie to me about anything?”

Her downcast, quick eye shift to the right told him he had hit the mark. There was still more she wasn’t revealing. It pissed him off and splashed a cold reality over his raging need. If she wouldn’t trust him with the truth, they were doomed. But he knew by now she couldn’t be forced or bullied.

“What’s your favorite place in the world?” he asked, deliberating keeping the questions light.

“The ocean.” Mei lay back on the stage with a huff, putting distance between them.

Enough was enough. He wouldn’t let her retreat from him. Not ever again. He climbed over her so that again their eyes were level. “What jewels do you keep in your lair?”

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice cracked, and she crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

“Because I care about you.” He kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder gently, gratified at her slight shiver. “I want you to trust me.”

“Pearls. Rose and gray and black and ivory.”

“That’s not many.” He trailed his lips down to her right breast, nudging aside her arms, and flicked his tongue over the waiting tip. Her nipple tightened and hardened to a pebble. She reached for him, holding his shoulders as if he might pull away again.

“No more questions.”

He had a million more questions, but his own need and the ticking clock of the group’s arrival made him nod.

She smiled and kissed him, sweet and slow, giving him the brush of her tongue. The kiss lingered, the very air between them mingled and shared.

He pushed her back gently, and she went with him. He tossed off his shorts, wanting to be deep inside.

He found her center and sunk deep into her tight, hot passage. Mei wrapped her legs and arms around him and urged him closer, but he pulled back against the circle of her legs, testing the tight entrance with his tip, rubbing over her nub, until she shook under him. He pushed forward, joining their bodies before she could reach her peak.

“Darius.”

The sound of his name on her lips made him frenzied. “Look at me,” he demanded, and she opened pleasure-filled eyes to stare at him.

He pulled back and pushed all the way into her, feeling her tighten her inner muscles as she climbed toward her release. It was enough to push him over the edge.

“Fuck.” He stroked hard, in and out, feeling tension tighten and pull his balls, increasing his pace to an inelegant, primal possession.

Mei cried out and convulsed under him, lost in her own passion. He barely noticed as an exquisite tightness rocked up his spine and shook him to his core.

She was his.

Whatever came next, they would handle it together.

Chapter Fourteen

An hour later, Darius approached his office with a determined step.

He and Mei had returned to the casino, showered, and changed clothes to face Bo Quan and his retinue, together. He’d already assembled an elite group of soldiers to escort them from the airport to the sanctuary for a meeting with the king.

He entered the door code and went into his office. The smell of Mei lingered from her visit two days ago, when she had taken his tie.

Why take his tie? To pester him and annoy him, no doubt.

None of that swagger remained in her now. Even knowing she had him beside her, and that he would never permit her to be taken, she was scared. Had he not insisted they stay and see it out, she would be gone.

Bastard water dragons. It was easy to hate them, even without knowing Mei’s terror. If they didn’t need the king’s acceptance of the traitors for their future, he’d make sure they were dead, for good this time.

On his desk, Scott had placed a locked file box that he knew would contain his query research. He placed his hand to the dials, listening for the small beep of the electronic mechanism that could withstand several tons of dynamite.

The briefcase unlocked. He flipped through the stacked files and pulled the one on Bo Quan. He slid on his computer glasses, and while he read through it, scanned it directly to his personal computer. There was a blurry picture of Quan. His face was turned away from the camera, and he wore sunglasses. It could have been anyone of Asian descent.

He buzzed Scott downstairs in his office. “Where’s the Chinese ambassador?”

“He’s waiting for you in the holding room,” Scott replied with efficient, crisp tones. “I figured you’d want to talk to him in person.”

“Find the ambassador from Vietnam, too, and his mate. Bring them in, let the Chinese ambassador see them, but keep them separated. Mind speak veil them.” That way they wouldn’t be able to communicate with each other and get their stories straight.

“Yes, sir.”

Darius disconnected the buzzer. He flipped through the rest of the information. It appeared that Quan and his group made their home on an island in the South China Sea. The islands were barren and uninhabitable, his reports showed. How they’d been able to live there, undetected, for hundreds of years was a mystery.

Scott had traced the IP computer address from the pseudo fax to Mei to a server located in Vietnam. Scott had also found a bank account. Darius blinked at the billion-dollar amount. How had an off-the-grid group of exiles amassed such a fortune?

Slippery was the water dragon.

They’d had help, either from humans or dragons. No doubt about it.

Were it not for Mei’s involvement, he would have advised fifth rate, no air-conditioned quarters for the arriving group, with only water and rice to eat until they gave the king the respect he deserved. Let them sweat out their stay in discomfort.

He re-read their message to Mei. The haughty language in their demand for entry to the gala was on par for any communiqué between dragons. Calling the king “Mr. Alec Gerald” was a major insult that even the most loutish dragon fold should have known to avoid.

Idiocy, or intent to commit treason? It was hard to know.

His gut said treason.

There was more at work here than simple ignorance. However bumbled, though, the request might be the start of what he hoped would be the first diplomatic contact to establish the despised water dragons in the kingdom.

He sat back in his chair with a
thunk
that rattled his computer glasses. Even though Mei was sure they came to steal her away, he was confident that with more answers, he could manipulate the outcome.

He jogged down the stairs to the holding cells just as his security guards were bringing the annoyed looking Vietnam ambassador, and his equally pissed off looking wife, into the surveillance area. The two had what looked like motorcycle helmets on their heads that would block them from being able to communicate with each other, or the Chinese ambassador, in mind speak.

He was gratified to see the ambassador and his wife exchange a nervous glance. Among the dragons, there were no secrets from a mated partner. If the ambassador was involved with Bo Quan, his wife would be aware, and possibly more persuadable under pressure.

“Where’s the Chinese ambassador?” he asked Scott.

“In there.” Scott nodded at cell one, a special room that could accommodate a full-on dragon fit. The cell walls were more reinforced than the money vault in the basement of the casino.

“Bring them into cell one, too.”

Darius opened the door to see the Chinese ambassador sitting quietly with his hands clasped on the table and his head bowed. He looked up as the Vietnamese ambassador and his mate were herded inside. The guards pushed them forcefully into chairs across the table from him.

“That’ll be all for the moment,” Darius said to his staff.

Scott gave him a concerned look but left as Darius commanded, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Well, I never,” the wife said in Vietnamese. The aristocratic lineage of her lovely face was all but hidden by the oversized helmet. She adjusted the contraption on her head and looked at her husband with a pinched mouth and mutinous glare.

Darius sat in a chair at the end of the table facing the door. He leaned back, balancing easily on the two back legs, and crossed his hands behind his head. He smiled, looking from one person to the other.

The Chinese ambassador met his gaze briefly before staring at the table. The wife refused to look his way at all, keeping her face angled toward the door. Under his continued scrutiny, she began chipping at her pink manicure with her right thumb.

The Vietnamese ambassador placed his forearms on the table. He clenched his fists, and the hint of ice shimmered around his hunched shoulders. “I demand to know what this is about.”

Darius blinked commands into his glasses and scanned each of their faces, getting a full dossier on their activities since coming to the dragon sanctuary, as well as their private records in each of their respective dragon folds.

The wife liked the sanctuary assignment a lot, judging by her daily trips to the salon and numerous shopping charges. The Vietnamese ambassador enjoyed making his mate happy, but he had no real standing in the Vegas court or in his homeland. He was a low-level bureaucrat who got lucky with the overseas, plush assignment. One daughter.

The Chinese Ambassador was more promising. Very high diplomatic placement in the Chinese fold, and held in very high regard among the dragons in the king’s court. A moderate man, it seemed, from his purchases and sizable bank account. Darius appreciated his disciplined lifestyle.

The man’s mate had died suddenly ten years prior, and he’d found no other. In his file, Darius also found that the ambassador had been one of the first to accept Alec’s plan for unity. He
should
be an ally to their cause.

Darius thumped his chair forward, making the woman jump. He walked to the door and knocked for Scott to open it. “Place the Vietnamese ambassador and his mate in separate holding cells.”

“What?” the wife sputtered. “This is beyond outrageous. I have an important meeting, and I can’t sit in a cell all day!”

A hot rock massage at four o’clock, Darius saw in her file.

“Madam, you can and you will,” he said, as the guards pulled her from her seat and led her to a smaller cell. “My staff would be happy to notify your masseuse that you’ve been detained in a security matter, if you would like?”

The woman looked startled that he knew about her appointment. Quick recognition crossed her face that the taint of being involved in something improper wouldn’t be good for her or her husband. She sniffed and walked stiffly in front of the guards to the cell.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Scott asked.

“Yes.” Darius looked over his shoulder at the Chinese man, holding his stare. “Take the photo of Bo Quan to Mei. She should be in her office. Ask her if she recognizes him.”