Lucian’s scowl darkened. “I’ll be right down.” He flicked his finger at the TV screen, and it went dark. Then he glanced at the tablet. “We’ll have to continue this later.”
“What’s up?” she asked, rising from the bed.
“I’ll explain on the way.” He took her by the elbow and gently guided her toward the bedroom door. He wasn’t angry or insistent, but there was no denying the urgent tension in his body and the quickness of his strides. He released her when they reached the spiral staircase down to the great room. “Zephan is a Fae Prince in the Winter Court. And I have a feeling he’s here on account of that demon which attacked you.”
“Fae? As in faery?” She took the stairs quickly, trying to keep up.
“Yes. And if he’s literally here at the keep, he’s far too close to you.”
“To me?” She was confused. Why did this have anything to do with her?
Lucian didn’t answer, just led her through the great room, the kitchen, and a long entry hall until they reached a wide double door with golden hinges. He palmed a flat panel on the wall next to the door, and it swung open. The man on the video feed stood outside, one hand propped against the door frame.
“Arabella, this is my brother, Leonidas,” Lucian said, quickly. “Leonidas, Arabella.”
She nodded, and Leonidas’s gaze swept her head-to-toe. There was great humor in his eyes, and he looked like he was dying to say something, but he managed to hold it back.
“I thought you were triplets,” she said, not sure what to say in the awkward, heated tension that had instantly fallen between them.
“Obviously fraternal,” Lucian said, not pleased at all about that question, apparently.
“I’m the good-looking one,” Leonidas said, extending his hand.
She shook it—he was just as tall and gorgeous as Lucian, but the way he held her hand felt like he wanted to start sampling her skin there and work his way down. Jesus, were these dragon princes all so insanely sexual, all the time? She pulled her hand back.
“No touching,” Lucian practically growled at his brother. “And no talking, either. Guard her with your life, Leonidas. Any harm comes to her, and I’ll take it out of you, one scale at a time.”
Leonidas’s blue-eyed gaze never left her. “Of course.” He smirked, stepped inside the doorway, then finally glanced at Lucian. “Zephan’s waiting for you outside the wards.”
Lucian’s eyes narrowed, but he just slipped out the door without a word and palmed it closed from some control outside.
She was alone with Leonidas.
“Well, well, well,” he said, looking her over. If the once-over he gave her before was an appraisal, this one felt like she had suddenly been stripped of her clothes, and he was already tasting her, one nibble at a time.
“Well, what?” she asked sharply. “Like what you see?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ah… the strong ones are always the best.” His tongue visited his bottom lip, tasting it as though he were imagining tasting her.
She’d met a dozen men like him. Maybe not all insanely hot look-alikes to Lucian, but all with that same lascivious appraisal for any woman within sight. Like she was just a thing for him to take to bed. Or bend to his will in some way. She felt the hovering presence of Lucian all around her, giving her some measure of protection in his lair. Surely his brother wouldn’t try anything in Lucian’s own apartment… but if he did, she’d be putting up a serious fight. Not that she’d win against a dragon—she wasn’t an idiot—but she’d leave some blood smears for his trouble, even if they were her own.
Her fists curled up. “Just try me, pal.”
His smirk grew into a smile. “Not on your life, Princess. I value my own.” And with that, he strode toward the great room, not even glancing back. “But we have so much to talk about.”
Lucian practically sprinted to the central meeting room of the keep.
Tension itched down his back every step he moved away from Arabella. Especially given he was leaving her in the hands of Leonidas. Not that Lucian believed for one second that his brother would try to bed Arabella. Not only did he know Lucian would tear him apart—one dragon infringing on another’s treasure was more than enough justification for a battle to the death, brotherhood notwithstanding—but Leonidas had every motivation to help Lucian succeed in finding a mate and uphold the treaty. No, the agitation Lucian felt animating his legs to go faster and get this business with Zephan over with came from an entirely different place, one that unsettled him the more he thought about it.