Even knuckleheaded dragons could be negotiated with, right? Besides, wasn’t paying a bounty awfully outdated to begin with?
On shaky legs, she stood up and brushed herself off, the knees of her worn jeans grey with dirt. She sighed inwardly and adjusted the pack on her shoulders, stocked with a sandwich, a flashlight and her cellphone, and trudged onwards. Nope, he wasn’t going to scare her that easily. Devon Bluewing was just going to have to deal with hearing from her, and there was nothing in the world she could think of that could scare her away from her mission this time.
CHAPTER THREE
Gemma
Gemma squared her jaw in a desperate attempt to keep from shivering like a leaf. She’d never been to the mansion, and for good reason. No one ever went up there, unless one of the Bluewings personally sent for them, and over the centuries there had been plenty of people, who saw the mansion once and then promptly died. Dragons didn’t take kindly to disagreements. She tried to put that aside. It was a civilized time now, and even dragons had to play by the rules, right? Gemma swallowed hard.
She’d been left to wait in a large library, the walls covered with old leather-bound books in languages she could only guess the heritage of. The servant who allowed her entrance, had smooth features and dazzling sandy eyes – a Komodo dragon shifter, she guessed. Though shifters were a bit of an open secret, dragons were still barely acknowledged or talked about even in the shifter circles, let alone by humans.
There was just something unsettling about the thought that these creatures, who could level cities at a whim, were still alive and well in the world. Perhaps that was why only other reptilian shifters could work for them.
When the door creaked open behind her, she whipped around immediately. Her breath hitched in her lungs a little as she caught her first sight of the fabled, hated man, the playboy every woman gushed after. Devon Bluewing strolled in, standing much taller than she had anticipated and being much more striking in person than she’d dared expect.
He walked straight up to her, stopping just a few feet from her, and so abruptly that she stumbled back a step. He smiled, a predatory grin that made her weak at the knees.
The way he looked at her felt like he could see right down into her soul, his blue eyes seemingly so innocent, but hiding a fire that was almost palpable.
„What is it that you require, miss...“ he said, trailing off as he raised an expectant brow at her. He had a long face, a strong nose and high cheekbones that hinted at the beast that was hidden within. Everything about him screamed power, speed and ruthlessness. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the man was hot.
Of course he’s hot. He’s a dragon, after all, Gemma thought to herself, suppressing the snicker that wanted to crack her lips.
„Teeley, Gemma Teeley,“ she offered, trying her best to stop undressing him with her eyes.
It was harder to do than she thought it would, though, what with how his broad shoulders bulged out of his black silk button-up and how his slacks clung to his thick muscled thighs. The paparazzi had not done the man justice – he was built like a Greek god, and suddenly it became very easy to understand why every single model and actress in Hollywood was drooling all over him. He showed up in the tabloids with a new girl or two every week, and Gemma had started wondering if the damn dragon had some magic she wasn’t aware of.
It turned out he did – being mouthwateringly gorgeous, in that dark, gloomy kind of way.
„Gem. A pleasure. Devon Bluewing,“ he said, a slight smirk perched on his lips. She wondered how his lips would taste if he kissed her, and the makings of a blush wanted to creep on her cheeks. Hell, she didn’t even mind the nickname.
No, behave! Gemma told herself sternly.
„Mister Bluewing, I...“
„Call me Devon,“ he interjected, keeping his blue eyes on her. It was like being stared down by a wild animal – she knew she could make a run for it, but it wouldn’t really matter. He would catch her anyway.
“Devon,” she started again, reluctantly liking the way his name felt on her tongue. “I’m here today because I feel I have to tell you that the new bounty rule you set on Gold Valley isn’t fair.”
Like someone had flipped a switch, his casual, almost warm expression turned stony and cold in the flash of a second.
Oh no. Not good, she thought, keeping herself from gnawing on her lower lip. Now he was really looking at her like he was going to eat her up, and not in the good but the bad way. The way that ended with her in a box, sent to her parents as a pile of ash. Still, she persisted, ignoring all the klaxons screaming in her ears, and trudging onward, determined to get through her little monologue before he cooked her like a marshmallow.