“See? As good as new. Just like I promised.” Gregory smiled, then winced when he tentatively tried to roll his shoulder. “Ouch. Though no shifting and flying yet. That’s going to take all night to heal.”
It was almost impossible to tear her eyes away from his torso. Naomi had never seen anyone who looked like Gregory did—at least not outside of magazines. She couldn’t even say what was more incredible—that a guy like him could be interested in her, or that there were actual, real dragons in the world.
“So what do we do now?” She swallowed as she looked instinctively towards the ceiling as she remembered the other dragon. “What if he returns? The police?”
Gregory shook his head, looking morose. “No need. We deal with our own problems. And that was such an incredible outburst of power that the council will already know. Someone will be here very soon.”
“Someone...?” Naomi didn’t feel particularly reassured by that. “You mean, another dragon?”
Even speaking the words felt ridiculous, but all Gregory did in response was nod.
“Probably. Either one of the other dragons on the council—or perhaps a friend of mine. He’s a shifter too, but no dragon. Either way, they’ll come to find out what happened. I’ll probably be in a bit of trouble too. But you’ve got nothing to fear from them, Naomi. Remember that. The council exists to keep our secrets—and also to protect you.”
Naomi sighed. It didn’t feel particularly reassuring. But at the same time, it was hard to worry about it now when she could feel nothing but bone-deep relief that Gregory wasn’t going to die.
Two hours ago, she’d dragged him to this house with the last of her strength, afraid that he’d die right there if she couldn’t get a doctor to him in time. And now—now Gregory was flexing his gorgeous muscles to impress her, and trying his best to reassure her instead.
Whatever that council was, as long as Gregory was alive and by her side she’d be able to deal with it.
“Do you feel up to a shower now?” she asked, carefully re
sting her fingers against his chest once more, taking care not to brush against the reddened skin that remained. “Maybe afterward, we’ll find some food—there’s always a chance that whoever owns this place forgot some cereal in the kitchen.”
Gregory grimaced. “I’m hungry enough I could eat twenty boxes of cereal. But I’d rather go and take you out for some burgers and fries. Once we are done with the council, I promise.”
“Burgers? Really?” Naomi couldn’t hold back the sudden, surprised laugh that broke out of her. “I’d have thought that eccentric billionaires dine in fancy French restaurants where they serve you snails.”
Gregory chuckled, then grabbed hold of Naomi’s hand to press it to his stomach. “It would take a lot of snails to feed a dragon,” he said with a grin. “Not that I don’t like fancy French restaurants. And I promise that one day soon, I’ll take you to the top of the Eiffel tower at midnight, so that you can see the city lights sparkle below you like the diamonds of a dragon’s hoard. And we’ll eat snails... or whatever else we feel like, and all the waiters will treat you like a princess. But what I want the most right now is to go and sit in a diner, just you and me and a large plate of greasy burgers and crisp, hot fries, and no one paying any attention to us.”
Impulsively, Naomi reached out for his hand. “I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“The Eiffel tower at midnight? Or the snails?”
Naomi shook her head. “No. You, me and a diner. Greasy food and just the two of us, together. I want that too. I want that diner, and Paris, and... and whatever comes after that.”
Even as she heard herself speak those words, her cheeks flushed with heat. She didn’t even know what she was agreeing to. He was a dragon—and she barely knew him!
But she felt more comfortable around him than she’d ever felt with anyone else she’d dated. After all, he’d fought a dragon to defend her.
Of course, without him, the other dragon probably wouldn’t have attacked her. Still, she wouldn’t undo any of the things that had happened. The night she’d painted the dragon had felt like the last, desperate fight of the part of her soul that had always been drawn to beauty. If she’d lost that part of herself, what use would it have been to go on?
This felt right. Gregory felt right. And as insane as the thought of real, live dragons living among them was, now that she knew about them, she wanted to know more. She wanted to see Gregory shift again.
She wanted to see him fly, the way she’d seem him in her mind that night, effortlessly commanding the storms, wild and powerful—and all hers.
“I want that too,” Gregory murmured, his voice rough. “Anything and everything that comes after.”
Her knees felt weak at the soft growl of his voice. The fire of his gaze kindled a liquid heat low in her belly.
She swallowed. “Shower first. And then... then we’ll take it one step after the other.”
Naomi was reassured that Gregory seemed able to stand and walk without apparent pain. Together, they made it to the shower, which thankfully was still equipped with large, fluffy towels. When they tested the water, it came out steaming hot. Despite Gregory’s protests, Naomi changed the setting until it came out warm enough to be comfortable, but no more.
“I’ll heal either way,” Gregory protested.
“That’s no reason to hurt. And those burns still look like they’ll hurt if you step straight into scalding water,” Naomi said sternly.
In any case, she didn’t mind the temperature of the water. In the crappy little studio she rented, lukewarm was the most she ever got from her shower, and that only if everyone else in the building hadn’t beaten her to it.