CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gemma
Gemma stood awkwardly in the middle of a big study, lavished with gold and silver trim wherever she looked. Everything oozed money and wealth, from the hardwood floors to the high ceilings and the ostentatious decorations. Where the Bluewing mansion was overbearing (and it could have been much worse, knowing what the Bluewings were hiding under the house in those big vaults), the Redblade was that, times three.
There was no coyness of self-control here. Anyone visiting the building had to be immediately aware of everything they had. The gold, gems and impossible riches were glaringly obvious. Even the legs on the chairs were dotted with expensive gems – mostly rubies and pearls.
Gemma felt uncomfortable amidst all of it, though the fact that Jolly was standing behind her, looking like he’d be more than happy to whack her over the head with something hard again, certainly didn’t make her any more at ease. And Remington Redblade staring at her like she was there to bring his personal salvation didn’t help either.
The man gave her the creeps. He was handsome as hell – as all dragons seemed to be – but the way his cold gray eyes roamed her body, as if wondering exactly what Devon had done to her, made her tremble with disgust. She didn’t like the way he eyed her, to say nothing about what she thought about him having her brought there to begin with.
He was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, and Gemma had been brought straight to him after Jolly had cleaned her up enough to look ‘presentable’. She peeked out of the tall floor to ceiling window (just like the ones Devon preferred) overlooking a stretch of thick forest and unfamiliar mountains looming in the distance. She certainly wasn’t in Gold Valley anymore. And Treasure Lane was a big place to be lost in…
“Thank you, Jolly. You’re excused. Wait behind the door while I have a chat with Miss Teeley, will you.”
Remington’s voice was buttery smooth, and his saccharine smile made Gemma crinkle her nose. Devon might have that holier-than-thou air about him, but at least he never pretended to be anyone he wasn’t. This man was just a snake, she could tell on first impressions alone.
“Now, Miss Teeley, or Gemma, I think it is. I think we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled again, and Gemma could imagine with vivid clarity how she would punch his long, elegant nose in if her hands weren’t tied. He was seated just a few feet away from her, but he made no effort to offer her a seat or untie her hands.
“I would,” she agreed noncommittally, her lips thinning into a line.
“I can see what Devon sees in you. Though I imagine Jolly wouldn’t. The lizards never did have great taste in women, I’m afraid. But I’m surprised, really. I thought Devon would try and pass one of his model conquests as a dragon bride. Wouldn’t that be utter nonsense? I always figured he had to be using them more for show than for function,” Remington said, obviously talking more to himself than her.
Gemma had to agree with his commentary though – Devon choosing one of the leggy things he showed up with on tabloids would certainly have made a lot more sense. But she’d been reading enough lately to get a very distinct feelings that dragons loved some curves on a woman, and every illustration she’d ever seen of a dragon bride looked peculiarly like her. They certainly had a type. She had to appreciate men who knew what they liked, especially if it included men like Devon Bluewing.
“Now, tell me, why do you think you’re here, my sweet?”
Gemma shrugged, wincing a little as the motion sent another burst of pain running through her spine.
“I don’t know. I’m guessing it has something to do with your issues with the Bluewings. Though I’m pretty sure your family has deserved everything it’s got from them,” Gemma remarked, quirking a brow.
Remington’s sweet smile twisted and contorted a little, hiding the face of a handsome man behind a mask of predatory rage. Oh, she’d hit a nerve alright.
“What would you know about the Redblades and the Bluewings! And a human bitch like you could never really comprehend what the dragon hierarchies mean or why they are as they are…”
“Oh, I think I understand, alright. You’re still sore because your forefathers got their leathery asses kicked by dragons stronger and better than them, and you think kidnapping the fiancée of a Bluewing dragon is going to somehow break him… Hey, news for you, Redblade, I’m not afraid of you, and Devon’s going to take down your ass and plonk it right back into the Stone Age where you belong.”
Her tone got increasingly louder and her expression was tinted with anger. Okay, so she might have been taking this pretty seriously. A girl was allowed to get stark raving mad when an asshole dragon kidnapped her, right? And not even the dragon she liked! This whole dragon bride thing was getting a bit… difficult, to say the least.