Captivated (The Dragons) Read Online Free PDF

here much longer.”
    I nodded.
    “Well, that's a relief.”
    “Yeah.”
    He made a half-smile and averted his eyes from mine.
    “Gotta get some paperwork done. I'll check in on you later.”
    “Alright. Yeah. Sure.”
    I sounded like a bumbling idiot, but I maintained the facade of ease until he was out the door and had it closed with a click. This was so not going in the direction I wanted. I flicked a curl falling from the hasty bun I formed out of my face, and laid back this time with a mind full of thoughts I couldn't shake for anything in the world.
    Thankfully, I fell asleep at some point, in the futility of it all, and by the time I woke again, it was nightfall, and someone was knocking at the door again. This time it wasn't Link's door, and I noted how disappointed I was about that with an ailing sigh.
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T he President wanted to see me. For dinner. And I found I had none of the old anger in me to deliver to him. I was fast feeling like a bad relative. Like a silly girl who could easily be won by Big Breakfasts and dark, bucking males who hold brainy chics captive for reasons along the lines of a different sort of chemistry than usual.
    I didn't really have anything formal to wear, and I felt almost silly considering I might even need to wear something important-looking. I wasn't meeting with the president of Nigeria at a diplomatic event. I was meeting the president of a motorcycle club. Sure, he was scary, but he wasn't exactly red carpet material.
    “Get a hold of yourself, Darla.”
    I dug around in my box, still having neglected to unpack it. It made me feel better to have all of my stuff in one, centralized location, and I'd quite yelled at Del when he tried to “help” me unpack my things into the drawers in the room.
    With enough fumbling through the stuff that fell to the bottom of my box, where whomever cleared out my main dresser drawer had apparently upturned the cosmetics drawer and dumped everything, I retrieved my tinted gloss and raised it triumphantly.
    It was just enough color for a simple meet. Casual but not cheap. I didn't want to look cheap. Even the girl toys lingering in the lounge had a sort of class about them. They didn't come off like the average biker groupies I'd seen around town or even on television.
    The Dragons weren't the average sort of bike club, though. So there was that.
    I settled on a simple, above-the-knee, black A-dress over an artfully ripped pair of blue jeans, and it wasn't until I passed under the large dragon sculpture above the entrance arch to the, apparent, VIP area that I relaxed into it. No one in this part of the lounge was dressed formally or like a slouch, so my shabby chic fit right in.
    I hadn't worn accessories. Didn't want to give anyone the impression that I was so happy to be there, I was “going all out.” I'd meet the terms of the agreement, but I didn't have to be a raving cheerleader about it. Neither did I have to become “one of the family.”
    The mood of the lounge section was laid back but elite. It was easy to tell that not “just anyone” was asked back there. I wasn't sure if that was somehow part of a message being extended to me.
    I followed Del deeper into the lounge, passing by long tables with carved dragon motifs at their ends to the more cozy section where small circular tables and chairs waited for conversations meant to be more intimate.
    Del waved me toward one such 'intimate' table toward the very back, and I was careful not to visibly react to the man waiting there for me.
    If Link was attractive, this guy was... God-like.
    I couldn't tell his exact nationality by looking at him, but there were undeniable angles to his face that were easily attributed to Pacific Islander heritage, even if it first came through a Native American ancestor who'd crossed the Bering Strait. His eyes had a slant, as well, but they were wide and dark. They were the eyes of a general, at the