“Mm-hmm,” Cara said and eyed him critically. “Like fashion.”
“Our greatest achievement,” Alyx agreed, and then found herself high-fived by the excitable bunny shifter.
For a moment, they grinned at each other as Braeden rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.
Alyx had definitely found her match in Cara, who kept untiringly bringing out more clothes for them to try. Now, for the first time, Alyx really felt back in her element. Back in power.
This was who she was—not the meek little servant she'd been forced to become.
“Perfect,” she decided when Braeden turned, wearing a pair of tight, black jeans.
He was also currently wearing a shirt striped gray and blue—the twentieth shirt he'd tried on for her without complaint. She gave him a critical look, then shook her head again.
“I almost prefer the Captain America shirt to that. Blue really isn't your color.”
He looked at her, humor in his eyes. “That's because red is.”
“Ah, an expert now, are we? And here I thought you knew nothing about human fashion trends—oh!”
It had taken a moment to remember that he was the master of fire.
He smirked, looking pleased when she shook her head at him.
“A red shirt is way too garish,” she said critically. “Also, attacking fire dragons will be able to pick you out right from the air!”
She’d never had to worry about the dangers of attacking fire dragons before in her career as a fashion reporter. Maybe she’d need a new column on that.
How to dress for a dragon attack. This summer’s Top Ten Picks for Surviving in Secret Lairs.
Then she looked him up and down again.
“We pretty much just went with black leather,” he said helpfully.
She had to admit, he would look good in a black leather jacket, stretching over those broad shoulders and rock-hard pecs.
“That’s why Steele’s never going to make it to New York Fashion Week,” she said, remembering the dusty, worn leather most of the fire dragon guards had dressed in. “Okay, we’ll try that leather jacket over there.”
Cara immediately beamed at her with obvious approval. Now all that was missing was a shirt.
While Cara fetched the jacket, Alyx went through the shirts once more.
The selection was small—but everything in Cara’s tiny boutique had been chosen with obvious care. Many of the items were in fact one of a kind, handmade by a swan shifter who’d settled on Wing Island a year ago, who dreamed of making it in the fashion industry one day. Right now, she sold her creations exclusively in Cara’s boutique and on Etsy.
“This one,” Alyx said as soon as her eyes fell on a light gray shirt with a bold red stripe running across it. It was at once sporty and eye-catching.
Striking but simple and elegant—exactly how she liked it.
And exactly how she’d always liked her men. Except that nothing about Braeden was simple.
But that was what made him so fascinating. Like a mystery, or a puzzle only she could solve. All the while knowing what was really at the heart of him: the warmth pulsing through the strange golden bond between them even now. Fire that was life instead of destruction.
“Hey. Everything all right?” Cara waved a hand in front of her face.
Embarrassed, Alyx realized that for a moment, she’d spaced out completely, all wrapped up in how damn right this connection between them felt.
Now that’s something no man’s ever done to me before.
“Sorry. I was just admiring your collection.”