"Famous last words," he intoned as we headed off for the dining salon.
Fourteen
It wasn't until later that evening that I asked Rowan a question that had been niggling at the back of my brain.
"I have something I want to ask you," I said, entering the main part of our cabin where Rowan sat texting someone he said was learned in the ways of magic for ideas on an object he could cobble together before the ring was broken.
He looked up, but before I could say anything more, Mrs. P emerged from her room clad in a Greek goddess outfit, all long, white, floaty dress, gold braided girdle, and dark brown hair curled on top of her head in an elaborate Grecian coiffure. She looked to be in her early thirties now, and I figured at the rate she was growing younger, she'd hit puberty around midnight. The priestess collective trailed after her, each in what I thought of as club dresses-short skirts, tight bodices, and very high heels. Where did they pack all of those clothes?
"Not going to Samba Night?" Mrs. P asked as they all pranced past us, giggling and chatting excitedly. "They have a man giving lessons if you don't know how to dance."
Her eyes were almost entirely sapphire blue now, her face unlined, her flesh plump and smooth and radiating good health. As she glided past Rowan, she reached for the small notebook he had left at the edge of the table, but I tsked loudly at her. "Ahem. Not yours, Miss Lightfingers."
She clicked her tongue and gave me a wide grin.
"And no, we don't care to go to Samba Night. We have to spend our time trying to figure out how to save the world and still let you and your boyfriend escape his wife so you can live happily ever after."
"Your loss," she said, blithely ignoring the fact that we were sacrificing our time in order to work on the problem. "Perhaps the delicious Gabriel will want to samba with me. Won't that make his mate furious? Too bad you'll miss it. Ah well, happy sexing later, when you are done working."
"He really does have marvelous buttocks," Bunefer said to the others, her gaze on Rowan's backside as they drifted past. "Makes one yearn for a quarter to do a little bouncing-off-of, doesn't it?"
"I once knew a man who had three buttocks," Gilly announced to the others, closing the door behind them before I could hear more.
"In some ways," I said when the door closed behind her, "I'm going to miss Mrs. P and her gaggle of underwear models. And in other ways, I'm going to be incredibly glad to have her off my hands. Especially this younger, nubile version of her. I mean, it was bad enough when she was an old coot, because she was like a wacky grandma and no one took her flirting seriously. But now … now she's gorgeous."
"Only if you like that type," Rowan said absently, making some notes in the notebook I had returned to him.
"I'd ask you what type you like, but you'd just be gallant and recite a list of qualities that applied to me. Are you getting any help from your magic dude?"
The corner of his delectable mouth quirked. "I never had a type to begin with, just so you know. And not a lot. Every suggestion he has is beyond what resources we have available in Duat."
"Could you go out and get some stuff and bring it back?"
"No one can leave Duat until his or her soul is judged."
"Oh, that's right. Gilly said something about that. Damn."
Rowan stood up, tucked away his phone, and stretched. "I've had enough of beating my head against that particular wall. What was the question you wanted to ask me?"
"Hmm? Ah." I eyed him. "It might be too invasive a question, but considering parts of you have invaded parts of me, I figure it's within the grounds of reasonable."
"That's right. What's the question?"
"Besides, we're going to be together for the rest of our lives, so if I don't ask, I'll spend countless months wondering. Years, maybe."
"Agreed," he said, putting his hands on my hips and pulling them to his. Instantly my female bits woke up and demanded some hot and heavy Rowan action. "What is it you want to know?"
"And you know, I think communication is a very important part of any relationship. If there's one thing I can fault Jian on, other than not watching for murderous demons in cars, it was the fact that he kept secrets from me. Like the fact that he was a dragon. That's a pretty big secret, don't you think?"
"One of the biggest." He rubbed his hips against mine. "I will not keep secrets from you, but I may well think about tormenting you mercilessly with my tongue and one or two fingers if you don't stop avoiding asking me whatever it is you're curious about."
"That," I said, sliding my hands under his shirt, and stroking both of his adorable little nipple nubs, "is not going to get me to ask the question. Unless you tell me exactly what body parts will be the recipient of the tormenting."
He leaned down and gently bit my lower lip. "Stop it."
I giggled. "All right. I just wanted to make sure you're on board with the whole communication thing. It's important to me." I held up a hand when he growled deep in his chest. "I wanted to know what it feels like to be a dragon."
"I told you-it feels powerful."
"Yes, but there has to be more to it than that. When you were around the other dragons, you were all caveman protective and acting like an adorable but enraging man. With the monster, you were pure heroic, and not that you weren't heroic before, when you helped kick demon butt and all, but that was nothing to what you did with a sword. I didn't even know you could use one!"
"I don't. Or rather, I didn't, but managed to learn fast."
"Right now, for instance," I said, nibbling on his earlobe. "What do you feel?"
He was silent for a moment, his hands tightening on my hips. "Aroused. Powerful. Dominant but protective. Do that last thing again."
I nipped the underside of his chin. He growled again.
"That just makes me … it's difficult to put into words. It's like what I felt before I was changed, only magnified by a power of ten." He closed his eyes for a moment, his chest moving against my fingers as he drew in deep breaths. "I can smell the scent of you, wildflowers in a sunny meadow teasing me and raising my temperature. There's a fire deep inside me and when you are near, when you touch me, it courses through my blood, setting me alight with the need to claim you."
"Wow," I said, marveling at all of that. When he opened his eyes, the gold flecks were glittering brightly. "That's really amazing. I had no idea about any of that. It explains a lot about your behavior with the other dragons, too."
He made a face. "I have a feeling I should apologize for my bad manners, but every time I think about them, I feel exactly the same sense of antagonism."
"That's okay. I think you'll get a handle on your dragonish emotions in time." I slipped out of his embrace and moved over to the end table, opening a little drawer in its side. "Mrs. P gave me something earlier to show you. Before you say anything, I'm perfectly aware that she must have lifted this from someone, and I'm going to give it to the captain so he can return it to its proper owner. But Mrs. P said you would enjoy seeing it."
"It's not an adult toy, is it?" he asked, looking faintly startled.
"No, no, she hasn't stolen one of those since the trip from L.A. to Munich." I pulled out the gold watch from the drawer and went to Rowan with it, holding it up so he could see it. "It's a watch."
The reaction was instantaneous-the red flecks in his eyes glowed scarlet. His whole body stiffened, and red scales rippled up his arms to his elbows. His nostrils flared and a tiny wisp of smoke curled out of his mouth.
"Gold," he said on a breath.
"Mrs. P said gold acts like an aphrodisiac to dragons. I can see some of that-I mean, I think it's nice and I like to touch it, but … " My words trailed off when Rowan made a noise deep in his chest.
"Run."
"What?" I gazed at him, wondering if I'd heard him correctly.
"Run," he said more loudly, his teeth clenched together.
"Why? Run where? For what purpose?"
He closed his eyes for a second as if he was struggling to maintain control. "It's a sexual thing. I must chase you. Run now."
The light dawned on me. "Ohhh, that sort of run. I thought you meant to go for a jog or something."
Rowan's chest heaved, a pained expression on his face. "For the love of all that's holy, run, woman, run!"
"All right." I trotted to the door, went through it, and got three steps down the hall before a question struck me. I returned to the cabin and asked, "Where am I running to?"