Chapter 49
RAINE
“I’m like cheese,” I say, holding up what’s left of the rest of my sandwich. Maybe I am still a little tipsy.
“Cheese?” Roark says.
“Yes, it can change shapes. It likes to please and melts easily. Most people like it but not everyone.” No, I’m definitely tipsier than I thought I was.
“Have you thought about this before?”
“Nope, came up with it just now. And I’m most definitely going to regret this conversation in the morning. Do you like cheese, Roark?”
“We’re in Switzerland. I think it might be considered a criminal offense not to.
” He moves closer to me, his chest flush with my face.
His arm reaches around me, and my heart takes off thundering.
He pulls back, a half sandwich in his hand, and takes a bite.
“It’s tasty. Just like you.” Unlike me, he grabs a plate and a napkin. I follow his example.
Ten minutes later, we’re full of grilled cheese when there’s another knock on the door.
“Miss Wren Aline Fischer,” Leo says and steps to the side. Wren’s bag isn’t with her.
Roark’s eyes flash. “Leopold, did the wolf shifter guards bring Miss Fischer?”
“Yes, they are waiting for you in the entryway.” Leo inclines his head and steps out of the room.
“Oh, I’d kill for one of those,” Wren says, making a beeline for the food.
“Help yourself. Leo makes the best, well, everything.”
“It’s a good thing Oma can’t hear you.”
“Right?” I smile, thinking about my Oma. She’s not cooking much anymore. And I haven’t been home to see my parents since . . .
“I’ve got a two-day layover to visit Oma. I swapped with Kelly from Pittsburgh again later in the month. I’ll tell her how good you’re doing.”
“Thanks, Wren. You’re the best.”
“No, this sandwich is the best.” Wren settles in on the sofa.
“I talked with the bodyguards while I was gathering our stuff. Kylie’s from Boston, and the other one, Winnie, is from New York.
Apparently, they were supposed to be on call here for the next five months.
But they’re super worried they’ve lost their job now, since we gave them the slip. ”
“Yeah, without knowing it. That’s not fair to them.” They should have told me they’d given me security.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“I should talk to the guys about it.” I eat the last bite of my sandwich.
“I mean, that’s up to you.” Wren takes the last milkshake off the tray. “Holy crap, this is good.”
“Right?” I put my barely used plate and napkin on the table. “No, I’ll go talk to them.”
“I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but this birthday girl needs to go to bed.”
“Your birthday, your rules. Let me show you how to—”
There’s another knock on the door and Leo steps in. “Miss Fischer, would you like me to show your sister to her room?”
“Her room? It’s okay, Leo, she can stay with me.”
Leo looks at Wren and then me.
“If it’s okay, I’d like to stay in the same room with Raine,” says Wren.
“As you wish. I can show you the way.”
“Please, running for my life seems to have made me somewhat sleepy.” Wren laughs.
“I can imagine it would, Miss Fischer. There will be no more fleeing for your life today.”
“Excellent! Good night, Raine. Love you.” She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “I’ll wait up if you don’t take too long.” Wren winks at me and follows Leo out into the hallway. “You know, I feel better knowing you’re here to look after my . . .” Wren’s voice trails off as the door shuts.
I sink to the sofa. How long should I wait for Roark to come back? I think about kicking off my shoes and lying down on the sofa. It’s butter smooth and soft. My stomach is full, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than let my eyes slowly close, watching the crackling fire.
I shake myself awake. I need to talk to the guys about the security guards. In the next breath, I’m out in the hall and heading down to the foyer.
Roark has his arms crossed over his chest. Smoke pours out of his nose.
It’s intimidating as hell. But it’s not the bodyguards’ fault they lost us.
I don’t know if this is Winnie or Kylie, but she’s not budging at his scowl.
She’s the one who helped us run away from the bar.
In all honesty, I should be grateful to her.
And I am. I don’t want her to lose her job, but I also want her to back away from Roark.
The green monster of jealousy rages through me, and I have to shake my head to get rid of it.
The foyer next to the driveway doesn’t scream castle, more like stone cottage with the low stone ceiling and exposed stone walls.
I step up close to Roark. “What’s going on?”
Neither Roark nor the bodyguard say anything.
I have the urge to say it again, break the spell of the who’s tougher stare-down that’s going on. Instead, I revert back to the old me. “Thank you so much for taking care of Wren and me. I don’t know what we would have done without you,” I say, holding out my hand for her to shake.
“You’re welcome. Winnie Drake, Stone Security.”
“They really did a good job. Didn’t they, Roark? They could have done a better job if I’d known they were there to protect me. And if I’d known there was something or someone I need protection from.” I tilt my head back and look up at him. Ball’s in your court, buddy.
“Indeed. That would have made it easier for everyone,” Roark says. “When you go into town now, Ms. Drake or Ms. Lu will accompany you,” Roark says with a scowl.
“That’s a great idea.” I reach for my phone, but it’s not in my pocket. “Let me give you my number.”
“I have it,” Winnie says.
“Perfect. Would you like a grilled cheese?”
“Ah, no. Thank you. I should be on my way.” Winnie nods.
“Can I give you a hug? I’m a hugger.”
“Yes.” Winnie pulls me in. “Thank you,” she whispers. “You won’t regret it.”
“Damn straight she won’t,” Roark growls.
I reach down and take his hand as we watch the door shut.
“Evander’s not going to be happy I didn’t fire them. And Kieren’s going to explode into a ball of flames.”
“That does sound messy.” I take his other hand, go up onto my tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. And then I’m flying. But not flying. My head’s on a hard surface. A firm surface that smells really good. Sage and mahogany. “I can walk, you know.”
“I’m sure you can. But I need you close for just a few minutes. My dragon’s ready to do its own fire dance.” He’s up the stairs in a few bounds and down the corridor. He pauses at his door, and I grab the door frame.
“It’s Wren’s birthday. I need to go check on her.”
Roark’s arm holding me to his shoulder stills. “Yes.” He slides me down his body, and I’m groaning at my own decision to not let him do whatever it was he had planned. His blue eyes hold mine. “You are welcome in my suite anytime.”
My chest freezes. My mouth’s gone dry. He’s the most ruggedly handsome man I’ve ever met.
So much so that I walk backwards a good ten feet.
Holding back a promise of I’ll be right back has to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
When I turn and sprint to my bedroom door, the hallway is filled with Roark’s warm chuckle.
I burst through the door. Wren’s sitting on the day lounger, an e-reader on her lap.
“You’re still up?”
“Yes, but why are you in here?”
“It’s my room.”
“Sure, but . . . shouldn’t you be––?”
“No, Wren. It’s your birthday, and I want to hang with you.”
“At least one of us should have a fun closing to the night.”
“Wren!”
“Seriously, Raine, why would you want to hang out with me when you could be hanging out with your hunky boss?”
I glare at Wren. She’s wearing her pajamas, her eye mask perched on her forehead, hair pulled back with a scarf wrapped around it, makeup scrubbed off.
“Well, I thought because it’s your birthday . . .” I drop onto the end of the bed and prop myself up on my side, my hand under my head. “We’d planned to have a slumber party, remember? There’s no reason we can’t do it here.”
Wren’s eyes are closed, but she cracks one open, looking at me like a pirate missing her eye patch. “I can think of two really good reasons.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah. Number one, it’s my birthday and I’m tired.”
I place my hand on her calf, giving it a little squeeze. “That’s two reasons already.”
“Fine, whatever. Three reasons.” She sighs.
“There’s a hunky, hunky dragon shifter somewhere in this castle who was looking at you like you’re a meal.
Not a snack but a full, gosh-darn meal. You’re not grilled cheese—you’re filet mignon.
Mashed potatoes and gravy. You’re the whole thing. A real first-class meal.”
“Are you done?”
“No. You’re also chiffon pie. Chocolate with a nice graham cracker crust.”
“Wren, are you hungry?”
“No. No, I’m not hungry. The room’s spinning, and I just want to go to sleep and have some really nice dreams.”
“What are you going to dream about?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out. Now, go.”
“Wren, this is my bedroom. I’m not going anywhere.”
“All right, if you insist. But at least go take your makeup off.” She points to the bathroom.
I do as she says, wrangling my hair into a braid like she’s told me so many times. After all, it is her birthday—or was her birthday. I glance at the clock on my dresser. It’s half past midnight.
I find myself standing by the window, looking up at the sky, wondering where Evander is and when he’s coming back. When I return to the bedroom, Wren is already snoring softly. I pull the blanket off the bottom of the bed and cover her up.
I should crawl into bed—that’s the right thing to do. But then I wonder again about Evander, and I have to know.
I open the door and silently pull it shut, avoiding the inevitable click. Then I’m standing in front of Roark’s door. I raise my hand to knock, but it opens before I touch it.