Journey laughed again.
“We have a great deal in common,” Lucas said. As she had told him of Lummox, he’d been both caught up in her story and comparing it to his own. “I too felt stifled in the place of my birth.”
She glanced around the room incredulously, making Lucas see its magnificence with her eyes. “You did?”
“I did indeed,” he assured her. “But I’ve forgotten my manners. I will tell you my story, but first, may I offer you a drink? A gentleman should never let a lady stand thirsty.”
A fetching pink blush colored her cheeks. “I forgot my manners too. And after all the work Mrs. Florescu did teaching them to me! I didn’t do the proper introduction. And with a prince, too!” Curtsying again, she said, “I am honored to meet you, Prince Lucas.”
“Please, just call me Lucas,” he said immediately. She stared at him as if he had lost his wits. He probably had. He could think of nothing but that he had finally, finally found his mate. But she was still staring, so he offered the first explanation that came to mind. “We may be more casual on this special occasion.”
“Yes.” She stifled a sigh, then drew herself up into a more formal posture. “Of course.”
Fool, roared his dragon. The special occasion is your engagement to another woman!
Lucas opened his mouth to assure her that there would be no engagement. Then he closed it. Journey was American. She would know nothing of mates, or of the customs of either royalty or dragons. More importantly, she didn’t know him.
If he blurted out that he really was a dragon and he’d known at first sight that she was his true love, she’d think he was a lunatic.
If he took her outside and shifted to prove it, he’d terrify her.
If he told her he was going to refuse the engagement because he’d met her and that Raluca would be thrilled, she’d think he was lying to seduce her.
Lucas frowned, trying to think of the best option. Perhaps he should simply continue getting to know her for another hour or so, then take her to meet Raluca. He and Raluca could explain together that neither of them chose the engagement and they were not going to go through with it. Then he’d be free to court Journey. They could get to know each other as men and women normally did. Once he was certain that she wouldn’t think he was a madman or a monster, he would explain everything.
Journey didn’t seem to have noticed his long hesitation. She appeared to have become depressed at the mention of his engagement, which gave him a strange mixture of feelings. On the one hand, he wished he could tell her the truth immediately. On the other hand, he was glad that she clearly wished he wasn’t about to marry someone else.
Smoothly, Lucas said, “May I offer you the traditional drink of the royal family of Brandusa?”
Journey brightened a little at that. With an inner wince of recognition, he saw that she was trying to enjoy what she could in a situation she wished could be different. He knew all too much about that.
“Yes, please,” she said. “I love traditional things.”
“I can see. You wear our gown and shoes beautifully.” He turned to the bartender. “Two flutes of dragonfire.”
“Oooh...” Journey breathed. “That sounds exciting.”
The bartender reverently took the bottle from beneath the bar and poured out two flutes. The orange-red liquor roiled in the glasses like liquid flame, seething and sending up wisps of smoke before it settled.
“What’s it made of?” Journey asked.
“See if you can guess after you try it.” He offered her a glass, then took his. “There is a toast in three parts. You drink after each one. Match your sips to mine, so you finish on the third.”
She nodded eagerly, then inhaled the air over her glass. “It smells like... I know it, but I can’t put my finger on it...”
“Like fire?” Lucas asked. “Like hot metal?”
“Yes! I’ve never had a drink that smells like that.” She glanced into the glass. Lucas was secretly amused to see her visibly wonder if it would taste revolting, then resolve to be polite no matter what.
“The toast,” he reminded her, holding up his glass, and she raised hers to meet his. “We raise our glasses to the three treasures of the dragon. To honor.”
“To honor,” Journey echoed, and drank with him.
It was impossible to get used to the taste of dragonfire. The liquor tasted of fire, of peaches plucked on a summer day, of dreams and hopes and desire. It curled like flames over the tongue and slid down the throat like molten gold.
Lucas felt the fire of the liquor spread throughout his body. He had to alter his stance; he’d gotten so hard, his breeches were tight. Dragonfire wasn’t an aphrodisiac, exactly; it wouldn’t make you desire someone if you didn’t already. If you drank it with friends or family, it brought on a pleasant nostalgia for all the good times you’d shared. But if you drank it with a lover, the evening was likely to conclude with a wild night of passion.
Journey’s eyes widened as she swallowed. She took a deep breath, making her ivory breasts move within the corset. A very light sweat sprang up, giving her exposed skin a lovely glow. She looked Lucas boldly over from head to foot, her eyes lingering at the bulge in his breeches, then hastily jerked her gaze back to his face.