“Master has left a dress for you on the bed,” the servant, Jolly, said as he left. There was nothing jolly about the puffy-faced lizard shifter, though. If anything, he looked like someone had cut one of the gargoyles off of the roof and dressed him in a tailored suit. It would have been funny, if she hadn’t been so damn pissed off at everything.
“What, he doesn’t even think I can dress myself? Like I’m a 3-year-old, who needs her clothes laid out?” she asked out loud, ignoring the fact that there was no one there to listen to her but herself. She walked to the bed and unzipped the garment bag, her curiosity getting the best of her outrage. The gown in it took her breath away. It was of emerald silk and as if made for her figure. The bodice was dappled with precious gems and pearls that dazzled in the light.
Right next to it on the bed sat a jewelry box. With trembling hands, she opened it, and the glint of gold that shone as she lifted the lid seemed almost blinding. The most gorgeous gold necklace with a huge emerald settled in golden engravings as a pendant rested on black suede. For a second, she considered taking it out and putting it on, just to see how it felt around her neck. Even though she was from a family of jewelers, that necklace was the most extravagant piece she had ever seen.
Gemma bit her lower lip, the princess in her letting herself be heard again.
Just one try? What could it do? No one would know!
She eyed it carefully, taking in even the slightest of details and marking the craftsmanship. She had a fairly good guess what school of thought it came from, and she had to assume it was at least a couple of hundred years old because no one could engrave like that by hand anymore. The intricate detail work was gorgeous, and as much as the necklace was just a stunning piece of jewelry, it was also a testament of the breathtaking work of a good goldsmith.
A twinge of regret went through her, thinking about the years she had wasted, not focusing on her work. But through the musings, reality kicked in, punching her right in the gut. She couldn’t get lost in something like this. Devon couldn’t just buy her affection, even if necklaces like that were certainly one path to her heart – as much as she didn’t want to admit it.
No! You’re not that kind of girl! You’re only here so the mad bastard wouldn’t burn the village down. You can reason with him. He’s an intelligent man, even if he’s a bit off his rocker right now. But you’re not going to get lost in some damn Cinderella fairytale and start letting him get to you, no matter how deliciously sexy he is. Snap out of it!
With that, she slammed the box shut and slumped down to sit on the soft, comfortable down comforter on the bed. She thought it best to ignore the fact that she’d thought of the man as sexy, believing it to be one of those things better not analyzed.
There was no room to get infatuated with him or to get lost in some girly dream of a big white wedding and billionaire babies running around the mansion, their little bare feet pitter-pattering across the floor.
Who are you kidding? They’d probably all be shifters, flying around like demon bats. Is that the kind of life you want for yourself!?
Clearly, hysteria wasn’t far from setting in.
She pulled her hand through her hair, frustrated. The sound of rain hitting the walls and ground whispered into her thoughts, distracting her for just a moment. It had been uncharacteristically rainy in the valley in the last few days. Scraggly old maids would say that it only rained in Gold Valley when a Bluewing was aggravated, but Gemma had always thought that to be a bit of nonsense. Now, she wasn’t so sure. If anyone could make the weather change, she had to assume it was the blue-eyed demon, who was bringing her such heartache. Those eyes…
Her core throbbed with anxious need, and her lips thinned into a hard line. There she went again, letting emotions dictate what was really only a very simple matter of a crazed psycho demanding impossible things from her.
Stop it, Gemma.
How the hell had she managed to get herself roped into a pile of nonsense such as this? Had she done something particularly horrid in her life to make karma decide to come kick her ass? Or was it perhaps that she was just unlucky to have the universe’s weekly life-ruining quota dumped on her? She imagined that this would be a good time to cry a little, but sad was the last thing she felt.
No, Gemma Teeley wasn’t sad. She was angry. Furious, even. 27 years old, she had just returned home three months ago from an extensive stay at anywhere else but Gold Valley. Literally, she’d tried everything but coming back home. While dragons were swell, and living her life to the beat of the jewelry market was all that and more, she’d always known she wanted something different. She just wasn’t entirely sure what that was, and years of aimless wandering had only left her more confused.