Raluca held out her hand in a slightly awkward gesture, as if she wasn’t sure if Destiny would shake or kiss it. Destiny grabbed it and gave it a vigorous pump. Nick knew the strength of his teammate’s deceptively small hands, so he watched for Raluca’s reaction. The dragon princess’s eyes widened in a flicke
r of surprise, then narrowed. Muscles bulged in Destiny’s forearm; Raluca’s slim arm tensed.
Nick stifled a chuckle. He’d seen Destiny do that before, but only to men who doubted her physical abilities. It was odd that she’d do it to a woman who wasn’t even her client. As the silent battle continued, Nick’s amusement faded into an annoyed protectiveness. It was unfair of Destiny to use her strength on a delicate, fragile princess. And why was she even doing it? Raluca had done nothing to provoke it.
Just as Nick opened his mouth to tell Destiny to knock it off, the women released hands, Destiny with a laugh and Raluca with a formal nod. From the new respect that showed on their expressions, Nick guessed that the battle had ended in a tie. He was surprised. He’d assumed Destiny would win — she was not only a shifter, but a veteran and a highly trained bodyguard — but then again, Raluca was a dragon and had shifter strength, though she’d undoubtedly never worked out a day in her life, let alone ever done any actual work.
“Nice to meet you,” Destiny said with a grin. “Lucas told us all about you. I wish I could’ve seen the header you took off the palace balcony! That must have taken so much courage.”
“I can fly,” Raluca pointed out.
Destiny shook her head, sending her braids bouncing. “I didn’t mean the jump. I meant standing up to your family. Leaving the only way of life you’ve ever known couldn’t have been easy.”
“It was not.”
The women looked each other over again, this time slowly and thoroughly. They were opposites all the way down to their clothes, with pale, slim Raluca in black fatigues and dark, curvy Destiny in a white tank top and flared tennis skirt.
Nick hadn’t realized how tall Raluca was until he saw her standing beside Destiny. She’d looked tiny beside Hal, but he towered over everyone. Now Nick realized that Raluca was almost his own height. No wonder he’d had that thought of standing-up sex when he’d helped her with her body armor. They were exactly the right height for it. He wouldn’t even have to lift her. She could just stand on her tip-toes. Or on his feet.
Nick swallowed, trying to choke down the rush of desire that had washed over him at that image. He needed to focus on his job, not on sexual fantasies. Once Raluca was absolutely safe and no longer needed his protection, he’d have the jerk-off session of the century.
Destiny frowned. “Hey, are you Nick’s client, or are you still unassigned? I’m free.”
“She’s mine,” Nick said immediately. He heard the possessive snarl in his own voice, saw Destiny staring at him like he was a lunatic, and added, “Hal already assigned her to me.”
“Whoa, really?” Destiny laughed. Nick glared; Destiny laughed harder. “Guess he wasn’t kidding about forcing you to get comfortable with high society.”
Nick couldn’t help glancing at Raluca, just as she glanced at him. Both instantly covered their reactions, Nick with a “you got me” eye-roll and Raluca with a haughty stare.
“Hal suggested you, Destiny,” Raluca put in smoothly. “I would have agreed, but a female escort would be unusual at a formal ball. For my purposes, it seemed better to hire a man.”
“Makes sense,” Destiny said. To Nick’s relief, it didn’t seem to occur to his teammate to doubt that explanation. As far as he was concerned, no one ever needed to know exactly why he’d volunteered. “But why do you need protection?”
Raluca briefly summarized her situation and needs. When she was done, Destiny borrowed Nick’s phone and typed in a list of places, helpfully labeling them “haute couture” (whatever that meant; fancy, Nick supposed), “clothes for nightclubs,” “nightclubs,” and “hotel.”
“Let me know when you go clubbing,” Destiny suggested to Raluca. “Or any time you’d like to have a girls’ night out. I know Nick’s your bodyguard, but we can trade for a night. And you said you wanted to see how the other half lives. Sometimes that’s different for men and women. There’s a couple places I could take you with my girlfriends where Nick couldn’t get in the door. At least, not unless he stripped and let us all stuff dollar bills into his jockstrap.”
Hot blood rose to Nick’s face as Raluca let out a chiming laugh. “That sounds charming. I would be delighted to meet your friends, Destiny.”
Before Destiny could say anything more about jockstraps, Nick cleared his throat. “Okay, great. Thanks, Destiny. Raluca, let’s get going. I want to get you set up with everything you need before I take you to your hotel for the night.”
He hustled Raluca out. Though he knew Protection, Inc. was safe, his bodyguard instincts were in full swing the moment he left the locker room, scanning for danger and always keeping himself between her and anything potentially threatening. When they reached the underground parking garage, he halted her to inspect it, sniffing the air for enemies, before he was satisfied that it was safe to lead her to his car. Even so, he walked between her and the other cars, his gaze wary, until he unlocked his Dodge Viper and held the door open for her.
She settled into it, making an odd gesture that puzzled him until he realized that she was reaching to sweep in skirts that she wasn’t actually wearing. Raluca caught his gaze as he slid into the driver’s seat and jerked her hand back, looking embarrassed. “I am not accustomed to trousers.”
“I can tell.” Nick took the sports car from zero to sixty, darting out of the garage and merging into traffic. He drove aggressively, daring the other cars to get out of his way, leaving a trail of angry gestures and honks behind him. This seemed to irritate Raluca; he could practically feel her biting her tongue.
Finally, she said, “I take it you are not concerned about discretion.”
“Nope.” Nick swerved into the left-hand turn lane, forcing some rich asshole in a BMW to stomp on the brakes or collide, then zipped on to the freeway. Traffic was flowing nicely; the Viper skimmed in and out of lanes like the lean, mean driving machine that it was. No one even tried to follow them.
“You want discreet, you get Shane,” Nick said as he left a nice Ferrari eating their dust. “But discreet isn’t the only way to go. Look around: is anyone following us? If they were, they’d have a hell of a time keeping up. And I’d notice.”
He hadn’t expected Raluca to understand, or to admit it if she did. But as he spoke, she turned her head to examine the traffic streaming behind them. “Indeed. They would be most conspicuous.”
“Plus, it’s more fun this way.” Nick stepped on the gas. “You’re a dragon. You like speed, right?”
Raluca gave a tilt of her head, which he read as agreement with reservations. “I enjoy the wind.”