The Dragon's Match

XXXVI

XXXVI

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Buttons teetered on the edge of the desk precariously, his bright pink tongue lolling to one side as he ambled clumsily towards her.

Lillian sighed, already knowing what was about to transpire, and reached a hand out to the halcoon pup to steady it... a moment too late.

The fuzzy ball toppled over and landed with a dull thud on the Aubusson rug that surrounded the desk in her study.

"Well, suppose there is little to ponder as to how you broke your leg," she muttered, sliding from her chair to move about the desk and pick up the squirming creature. It was, she admitted to herself, quite endearing.

And a suitable distraction from the prevalent ache that had rooted deep within her heart and refused to budge. A soft sigh escaped her as she cradled the pup to her chest, idly stroking its sleek fur with fingers that trembled unabatedly of late, the ledgers on the desk forgotten. Truthfully, she had been surprised that she had managed almost a full morning's worth of work as she scanned through various issues of correspondence that Millie had clearly no intention of handling- indicative by the fact that the envelopes had been stowed into the back of the bottom drawer, forgotten.

Though her sister meant well, her priorities were wholly biased, and Blayne's duties stretched him far and wide, his attention to Ravensfield's affairs diverting often. She could hardly fault them, and the changes that Millie had instigated were revolutionary in nature- something that she believed Ravensfield stood to benefit from and could be proud of- though there was a certain lack of consistency that grated against Lillian's nature.

She resisted the urge to squeeze the bridge of her nose as the thought crossed her mind for the hundredth time that day- she needed to take charge, and soon.

It was the resounding sound of something large crash landing against the flagstones of the small balcony of the study outside that snatched her head to the side, just in time to witness the huge, sleekly black dragon shift and swirl back into the form of the naked male that made her heart clench with agony each time she caught a glimpse of him.

It was why she hadn't accompanied him that day to view the holding he would acquire for his tenants, instead sending Ravensfield's newest factotum, Mor, in her stead.

And seeing him presently had just as much a devastating effect as she expected, almost making her arms slacken and drop the poor creature in her arms in the process. His gaze pinned her in place, finding her easily across the chambers even through panes of glass of the intricate French doors that separated them and yards of space between, and her stomach plummeted.

There was something about him that positively vibrated through the air to wrap around her and intrinsically bind her to him, captivating her and momentarily locking her in place, so much so that she scarcely noticed the gleeful seer beaming at her and waving exaggeratedly from beside him.

God, there was a naked male on her balcony and Dellanae looked filthy- well, more than normal. It struck her to action, and she hurriedly deposited Buttons onto the floor where he promptly scaled the side of her desk once more, before staggering towards the doors and thrusting them open.

"What the hell are you-"

He barged over the threshold, encroaching upon her space so that she was forced to relinquish her grasp on the brass handles and back pedal. "The Lady of Shalott by Lord Tennyson," he began nonsensically, and her brow pulled together. Her heel caught on the hem of her skirts, and she stumbled slightly, his hand snaking out to curl about her elbow, stabilising her even as he continued his advance and she continued to retreat. "A remarkable chocolate tart with the crumbliest pastry I have ever put in my mouth, made only in the Ravensfield kitchens by a remarkable cook," he went on, and her thighs bumped against the edge of her desk.