Dragon Fall: Masters of the Flame 3 (Mating Fever) Read Online Free PDF Page B

was still crouched in front of him, her mouth half agape and at the same level as the buttoned placket of his ye-olde-style pants.
    Snapping her jaw closed, she hopped up. Most of the rest of the vodka splashed over her hand, and the ice cubes rattled. As rattled as she was. She was used to being nose to nose with many men, but this one stood tall enough that her unbowed head would fit just under his stern jaw… She stumbled a little.
    He reached out one hand to steady her, strong, elegant fingers wrapping around her arm just above her elbow. His touch through the three-quarter sleeve of her silky tunic was hot, almost feverish…
    “I think you’ve had enough,” he rumbled. “No more of this. You’re coming with me.”
    For a moment, she was enthralled by his penetrating voice, low and just rough enough to make her think that the tailored clothes and courteous touch hid something else, something much less polished…
    Then she focused on his words.
    He wasn’t being elegant and polished. He was…arrogant.
    “I’ve not had enough, actually,” she said with frosty indifference. “Not enough vodka and not enough winning.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “And I’m certainly not going anywhere with a stranger.”
    Below the high collar of his shirt, a short cape was fixed at his broad shoulders and draped over his left arm. It should have made him look like a bad Elvis impersonator, but instead he looked princely.
    Esme scowled. She’d met princes before. They were dicks, almost every one.
    At least this one didn’t try to grab her again.
    She spun away from him and shoved the token she’d retrieved into the slot machine. While it spun, she slammed the rest of her drink defiantly. And then licked her hand for good measure.
    The weight of his thunderous, dark gaze felt almost as hot as his touch.
    The three reels eased to a stop, and the machine made a sad wah-wah sound then fell silent while it awaited her next token.
    She whirled back to face him. “You broke my streak,” she accused.
    “This is Vegas,” he reminded her. “The house always wins in the end. Always .”
    She lifted her chin. “Well, then…maybe I’ll cheat.” She’d never once in her life cheated, or even spoken out of turn, really.
    And see what it had gotten her.
    “I’ll give you a prize,” he said, “if you come back to the cavern now. A gift more precious than any token in that machine.”
    Back to the cavern … She stiffened with a jolt of recognition at the low rasp of his voice. She remembered the sound breaking through her nightmares. And she remembered a touch… No, she had grabbed him . The memory of heat blazed in her cheeks. And also sank deeper, lower… “Bale.” Reyex of the Nox Incendi dragon-shifters.
    Not a prince.
    A king .
    She’d drifted in and out while she’d huddled in the cold stone darkness, pathetically grateful to be dead and buried where Ashcraft couldn’t reach her. But she hadn’t actually been dead, and only partly buried—a cave in a penthouse; now she’d seen everything—and she’d heard Rave, Piper, and Anjali talking to him several times. But she’d been under the impression no one ever saw him . She wasn’t sure why when he seemed fine. He looked… She swallowed hard, tasting the bite of the liquor and the sweetness of the cherries.
    With that rich, burnished skin and glittering eyes, he looked like something she couldn’t afford, despite her unexpected windfall of fake coins.
    She brushed her hair over her shoulder and tried for a cool tone to hide the warmth swirling through her veins. “I thought you never left the cavern. Should I feel honored you came down just for me?”
    “I don’t, and you should,” he said curtly. “Security had to clear this room. I’ve lost tens of thousands of dollars in the time we’ve taken to talk.”
    She jerked her head up, looking around. He wasn’t lying. The hall was empty. The slots’ chirping sounded almost anxious, like baby