Chapter Twenty-Two
MARIUS
Every minute Mina spent with Gordon was an eternity. But Celeste was in our suite with the rest of us, so I couldn’t pace, roar, or vow to kill Gordon in a thousand different ways. I just stood by the window, my back to the room, trying not to quiver with rage.
Go in there and help her! my dragon howled.
I burned to, but Mina was capable of handling Gordon. More capable than I was, probably.
I stared out the window, my hands balled into fists. Somewhere behind London’s gloomy skies, the sun was setting without any fanfare. It just drained away gradually, leaving us in limbo.
Auberre is so much better, my dragon complained.
Which just went to show how much my priorities had changed. Forgotten little towns in the countryside had never really done it for me before. I’d grown up in one and escaped as soon as I could. But now…
I closed my eyes, picturing the forest. The rolling vineyards. Quiet nights in the drawing room.
Mina defending her grandmother’s china, my dragon chuckled.
My lips curled in a faint smile, then went hard as Celeste approached.
“Poor, poor Marius. So deep in love, he doesn’t know what to do with himself,” she cooed.
Oh, I knew what to do. Throttle Celeste. Help Mina get through this shitty job and back home, where I would leave her just long enough to destroy every one of my enemies. Then we could live happily ever after.
I grimaced. Not a plan Mina would approve of.
Poor Celeste, Bene mocked, though only into my mind. Nothing better to do than hang around guys with zero interest in her.
Roux growled, warning him not to rile up the succubus. Especially when she was probably already plotting against us.
Bene grimaced and flicked through the channels. “Poor us. Ninety-nine channels and nothing interesting on any of them.” Then he brightened, coming across a documentary set on a savanna. The camera panned to a pride of lions, and a narrator spoke in hushed tones about social hierarchy.
“Got that right,” Bene murmured as the narrator gushed on about the alpha lion.
Celeste rolled her eyes.
I ignored her and did my best to emulate Bene — a first — by picturing myself gliding over the Alps with cold wind under my wings and bursts of heat from occasional spits of fire.
I closed my eyes, reliving my favorite route.
I used to zoom low over Lake Lucerne at midnight, then race up over the slopes of Mount Pilatus.
The surrounding villages were usually asleep at that hour, but a few lights dotted the slopes.
In winter, snow blanketed the landscape.
In summer, a lush carpet of grass. I recalled the scent of mountain flowers and dairy farms and glaciers…
Then my nostrils flared, and I whirled as the door flew open.
Mina stormed in. Literally. The napkins on the table fluttered, and the air pressure dropped, the way it did when clouds rolled in to smother the mountains.
“Gordon wants you,” she snipped to Celeste in a very un-Mina-like tone.
Roux’s eyes went wide, and Bene shuffled to the far end of the couch.
Even Celeste was thrown off — enough that she slipped out of the room without comment. Mina slammed the door behind her.
“Did Gordon really want her?” Bene asked quietly.
“No.” Mina slumped against the door.
Bene held up a little bag. “Here. Have a cookie.”
The man had more brains than I thought.
Mina looked at the bag, clearly warring with herself.
“You deserve it,” Roux threw in.
“Bet your ass, I do,” she grumbled, snatching it. She sat at the dining table with her back to the room, munching aggressively.
I approached her…slowly.
Bene looked over, wincing. Maybe not the best time…
No, but I couldn’t stand to see her like that. Plus, he and Roux might have learned a lot about Mina, but I knew her even better.
I stepped behind her, making enough noise for her to hear, and slowly wrapped my arms around her.
And, whoa. She was seething with angry energy. Pulsing with it, almost.
Calm down, my mate, my dragon crooned softly.
I squatted, getting as close to her as the chair allowed, gradually nudging my chin over her shoulder.
Every muscle in her body was tight as a wire and not in a good way.
I didn’t bother asking if she was all right, because the answer was obvious. I was dying to ask what had happened, but I didn’t. Still, one thing was clear. She’d finally stood up to her godfather — something I’d never dared do, and I was a goddamn dragon.
I leaned my head against hers and focused on deep, calming breaths. The way she’d done for me after all hell had broken loose in Mallorca.
Everything will be all right, my mate, my dragon whispered.
Mina laced her fingers through mine and squeezed. Her chest rose on a deep breath, and she slowly straightened, then turned to flash me a tight smile.
“Thanks. I needed that,” she whispered.
My heart lifted, and my dragon crooned smugly. Of course, you did.
“Oh, check it out. Adorable lion babies.” Bene pointed to the television.
Mina folded into a soft laugh — another thing she needed — and joined him on the couch. I sat between them and put up with thirty minutes of lions, lions, and more lions.
“Why not a documentary on tigers?” Roux grumbled.
Bene shrugged. “Ask the BBC.”
“Or dragons?” I threw in.
“Baby dragons aren’t adorable. I mean, look at those cubs!” Bene pointed smugly.
I never dreamed I would waste minutes of my life on a lion documentary — or in a conversation at that low a level — but somehow, it was just what we all needed.
The documentary went on to show a hunt, but the antelope got away, to Mina’s relief and Bene’s consternation.
Eventually, it concluded with a few philosophical words about man and beast striving to live in harmony or some such fluff, and it closed on a montage of flicking, tufted tails and lions gazing off into spectacular sunsets.
Bene clapped. Mina joined him. I sat between them with my arms firmly crossed.
“Say cheese,” Roux called.
We looked up as he snapped a picture.
“Wait. You have to be in it too,” Mina insisted.
I grumbled under my breath as everyone squeezed together for a selfie no one needed, especially one with a tiger shifter in the foreground. That didn’t stop Roux from sending it to Mina, who picked up her phone to admire it.
I frowned, thinking of the picture of the two of us in Mallorca. Thinking of my enemies.
“Oh.” Mina’s face fell as she scanned her messages.
We all looked over expectantly.
“Anastasia has agreed to sell to Jensen,” she read stiffly.
“Won’t Gordon be glad,” Roux muttered.
I put a hand on Mina’s leg in a sign of solidarity. Bene raised his to echo the movement, but I snarled into his mind.
Don’t even think about it, asshole.
He reached for the room service menu instead.
“I say we celebrate — or drown our sorrows — in dinner and a good bottle of wine.” He ran his finger down the list. “Now, which is the most expensive? After all, it’s on Gordon.”
Mina leaned in for a look. “Filet mignon for me.”
“Lobster for me,” Roux snickered.
“I’ll take the Argentinian steak,” I said.
Bene laughed. “With side orders of truffles for each of us.”
Throughout the wait for the food and then dinner, we managed to keep the mood lighthearted and conversation to a minimum. Happily, neither Gordon nor Celeste interrupted.
“Good, but nowhere near Madame Picard’s cooking,” Bene decided.
“God, I wish we were home now,” Mina breathed.
We. My heart tightened.
“Me too,” Bene echoed the sentiment.
Roux didn’t speak, but a faint sigh said he agreed.
I looked into my wineglass, wondering where destiny would take us. Sorely tempted to do a little more steering.
Then Roux’s phone pinged. When he read the message aloud, our fair moods dissipated.
“Gordon says the deal is going through. We’ll all convene at nine in the morning.” Then he frowned at the screen. “And he says, tell Mina he accepts her terms.”
“Terms? What terms?” Bene asked.
Mina ignored him, swallowed hard, then nodded to herself and told Roux, “Tell him I want to see it in writing, in the morning.”
My eyes went wide. That did not sound good.
“Um…” Roux hesitated.
She pointed to the phone firmly. “Tell him.” Then she softened, back to the Mina we knew. “Please. Thank you.”
As he typed, she stood, stretched, and yawned. “Well, it’s been a long day.” She headed toward her room.
My heart crumpled as I considered reality. No Belgravia hideaway for us tonight. I resigned myself to a lonely, pensive night on the couch.
But she stopped at the door to her bedroom and looked back at me.
“Will you come? Please?” she asked softly.
It was all I could do not to sprint in.
She blushed as the others observed. “We need to talk.”
Bene snorted. “Talk. Right.”
“What about…?” Roux jerked his thumb in the direction of Gordon in the next suite.
“To hell with Gordon,” Mina muttered, echoing my thoughts exactly.
Bene chuckled. “That will be my motto the day we finish our contracts.”
Mina opened her mouth, then closed it.
I slid past her, into the bedroom, as she called to the others before closing the door.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” they echoed — Bene cheerily, Roux less so.
We stood in silence for a while, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, Mina drew the curtains and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off her shoes and socks. Then she stood again and pushed down her pants. I stared as she pulled her shirt over her head next.
“Uh…no talking, I guess?”
“Oh, we’re taking, all right,” she grumbled, turning her back to slip her bra off and toss it on a chair. Just as quickly, she pulled on a white T-shirt that came to mid-thigh in place of pajamas.
I froze, because that was my shirt. One I’d left at home — er, at the chateau.
She turned back and stuck her hands on her hips, catching my expression.