Billionaire Dragon's Bride(10)

So, for the past seven or so years, Gemma had been looking for what she wanted from life. So far, it had eluded her with masterful grace. She’d tried out at least three professions that had nothing to do with serving people coffee and donuts, and plenty of jobs that required just that, and found that she didn’t like any of them. Having grown up in a family of goldsmiths, she had the precise touch and sharp eye of one and the heart of an artist, but combining that with an insatiable desire for more didn’t leave much room for honing her craft.

Gemma knew that she was good at her family’s chosen profession, but living like every member of her family had for the past six generations, seemed like an awful waste of potential.

Or so she thought, though even Gemma had to admit that she had what it took to be excellent at the craft, and it was the only thing that really spoke to her. Sadly, she hadn’t yet figured out how to harness that potential for anything else that could keep a roof over her head, so when her mother called with news of her father’s health worsening, the decision to return home had come easily enough. Gold Valley was still better than a Starbucks in New York, even if it was lorded over by pompous dragons.

Or so she had thought. Gemma buried her face in her hands, sighing softly. This was not going as planned. When she’d decided to give Devon Bluewing a piece of her mind, her parents had told her that it was not likely to be a very good idea. Hell, anyone with a pulse had told her as much, and still she had decided to ignore them. As if she knew best!

The Bluewings had never taken kindly to being told what to do, and though over the generations, certain members of the family had been more forthcoming than others, Devon Bluewing certainly didn’t seem to belong to the more reasonable group of dragons. In retrospect, Gemma should have figured as much.

Reasonable dragon shifters didn’t drive Ferraris and bang models while they should have been learning how to run their lands from their aging fathers. As much as Dayton Bluewing had been a grump, at least he wouldn’t have condoned Devon’s actions… probably.

With a groan, Gemma remembered the tale of Dayton and Gabriella Bluewing. She too had been an offering, a girl from Gold Valley chosen by the great dragon himself. It seemed the odds were ever against Gemma. She had to admit, the universe had been doing a bang-up job at screwing with her plans lately. Never a dull moment in Gold Valley, it appeared – something that she certainly hadn’t been prepared for.

Maybe you can knock some sense into him. If not that, you could become so obnoxious that he won’t want to marry you. Shouldn’t be too hard. He’s a dragon – just about anything should annoy him. Note to self – drive Devon crazy before he drives you crazy.

Finally, she decided that she’d been wallowing in self-pity for long enough. If she was going to save herself from the fate of being a dragon’s wife, she’d better get on it. Gemma stood up and headed for the door, leaving the stunning dress and the breathtaking jewels on the bed. She was dressed in ragged jeans and a ratty tee that hugged her ample curves, and if he didn’t like it, well, screw him. Maybe it could be the first thing that would annoy him.





CHAPTER FIVE

Gemma

Gemma huffed, stalking out of the room and heading for the stairs that led downstairs and into the dining room. She’d got a quick tour as she was brought in earlier, though her, ahem, fiancée, had made himself scarce during her arrival – no way to begin a relationship built on mutual love and respect. Gemma wandered through the halls, looking for the dining room. Jolly had shown her the way but she’d been far too pissed off to really pay attention to anything when she had arrived.

Her boots made the plush carpets scrunch under her steps, and the evening sun shining in through the floor to ceiling windows made everything glimmer a little, as if the entire interior of the mansion were dusted with gold. Knowing the dragon’s penchant for shiny things, it wouldn’t have surprise Gemma one bit to find that just that was true.

Finally, she was met with a heavy oak door that was slightly ajar, delicious smells wafting out into the hallway through the crack. She sniffed, and the distinct smell of lobster filled her nostrils. Gemma pulled the door open, quickly discovering that her stomach was growling. No wonder, seeing as she’d also been too peeved to really eat since her chat with Devon. The dining room was huge, like all things in the mansion, the heavy table that could seat twenty only set for two.

She caught the last glimpse of a servant scuttling out through another exit just as she stepped in and Devon was pouring himself a glass of whiskey by the bar, his back turned to her.