Chapter 5 #2
She laughed, too loud for an office. Not that she cared. She leaned back, watching his face flush the faintest, impossible-to-catch shade darker.
“You know,” she said, almost conversational now, “for someone who pretends he doesn’t want attention, you make it very fun to give it to you.”
Hektor’s voice dropped, low and gravelly. “I’m working, Zara.”
“Mhm,” she replied, sipping her coffee smugly. “And I’m annoying you. We can multitask.”
His lips twitched, the closest thing he had to a smile.
“You are…annoying,” he murmured.
“And,” she chirped, “you like me anyway.”
He didn’t deny it.
He just looked at her, that unreadable Drakkon focus tightening like a pull in the air between them.
She was thrilled he didn’t deny it. She was so thrilled that her brain emptied itself, as if someone had pulled a plug. She scrambled for something, anything to say.
“Maybe I’m the one who needs practice,” she blurted.
His brows shot up. “Practice with…dating?”
She hadn’t meant to say that much. But now she was committed. “Yes.”
He guffawed. Actually laughed, a deep, startled sound she had never heard from him.
Her annoyance flared immediately. Fine. She’d show him.
“Yes,” she repeated pointedly. “I’ve been messaging with a couple of guys. And yes, I’ve been flirting with them.”
That wiped the amusement right off his face.
“Oh yeah?” he said flatly. “And what kind of monsters are they?”
She took a long sip of her coffee, trying to look unbothered. Her brain scrambled through the list of random profiles she’d scrolled past when she was bored.
“Uh…one was a kelpie. Maybe. And another was—what were they—um—”
“You don’t even remember,” he muttered.
But irritation sparked in his eyes. Good. Let him squirm a little.
His jaw flexed. “Then you should go meet them.”
Ugh. She did not want that. Not even a little.
“And there’s one I’m really interested in,” she added, pushing because pushing him was becoming one of her new favorite hobbies. “He lives far away, though. That’s the only downside.”
He stared at her.
“Well,” she said breezily, “He’s…hang on. What are they called? Half their body is a tail?”
“A basilisk?” he asked slowly.
“Yes!” she said brightly. “He’s one of those.”
Hektor’s eye twitched.
She was doing a happy dance inside. This—this—was progress. The kind of progress she’d been trying to pry out of him for days.
“So, you’ll help me?” she asked, leaning toward him, laying on the charm like syrup: sweet, sticky, impossible to ignore. She gave him wide eyes. Hopeful eyes. Manipulative eyes.
Please don’t say no.
Hektor rolled his eyes, but not dismissively, more like he was trying to push back a reaction he didn’t want her to see.
“How exactly will this ‘helping’ go?” he grumbled.
She perked up instantly. “You could tell me more about basilisks, what they like, how to act, what they look for in a mate—”
“You shouldn’t have to work that hard,” he snapped.
She smirked. Oh, she knew exactly where to poke next.
“But I want to,” she said, all innocent sweetness. “I want to be the best. So irresistible he can’t even think about choosing someone else.”
She tossed in a bright, eager smile for effect.
Hektor went still.
Very still.
A stormy still.
Zara felt the temperature shift, just a degree, just enough to say she’d struck the exact nerve she wanted.
And he didn’t disappoint.
His glare darkened, jaw tightening so sharply she almost heard it click.
“That,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “is a terrible idea.”
Perfect.
Zara kept going, because how could she not when he reacted like that?
“So if I tilt my head like this,” she demonstrated, exaggeratedly coy, “do you think a basilisk would—”
“Zara.” His voice was a warning rumble.
She leaned closer, whispering dramatically, “Or maybe they like it if you—”
“Zara.”
A vein in his temple actually twitched.
She decided, mercifully, to give him a break. Mostly because he looked like he wasn’t far from popping an actual blood vessel.
She softened her voice. “I’m just a girl, and I don’t know anything.”
His eyes narrowed. “Okay, that’s enough.”
He’d caught on. Finally.
“Fine, fine,” she snorted. “Seriously, though, some information would be helpful. You know…about basilisk culture and customs. The normal stuff.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction. “I can explain that.”
She grinned.
“Not those other things,” he added sharply.
Zara wiggled her brows. “Oh, I wasn’t even going to ask about those.”
He glared.
Zara hid her smile behind her coffee cup, watching the way Hektor started to relax again. Not much, just a millimeter or two in his shoulders. But she noticed. She always noticed.
He had no idea how transparent he actually was.
Not to her.
He thought he was stoic, unreadable, impenetrable. A wall of Drakkon discipline. And maybe he was, to everyone else. But she’d already seen the cracks: the way he froze when she touched him, the way his golden eyes darkened when she mentioned other males, the way he never quite looked away first.
He wasn’t admitting anything yet.
But he would.
Soon.
Zara set her cup down and straightened, a tiny thrill curling warm and triumphant in her chest. This was going to be fun watching him unravel, watching him realize he wanted her, watching him try so hard to pretend he didn’t.
Poor Hektor.
He had no idea she’d already decided.
She was going to enjoy every second of this…and he was going to admit he liked her, whether he meant to or not.