Chapter 4
ADRIAN
The next day, I got to the café about twenty minutes early. I'd woken up way before my alarm, fixed breakfast for me and my brother in a hurry and tried to pretend that I wasn't the anxiety ridden mess I was when my brother tried to ask me about the upcoming interview.
No, I don't know if he's going to hire me.
Yes, I am hopeful. Kind of. Maybe.
I stopped talking and cleaned the table before I could get my tongue in an actual knot.
And then I'd paced up and down in my room, unable to settle on an outfit until it was almost time to leave. Finally, I'd thrown on a casual shirt and jeans. The shirt because Rory had hated it. The jeans because Luca had once told me I looked 'damn fine' in them.
Now I was at the café and waiting.
I'd picked a table near the door and sat watching it, trying not to play with the salt shakers just to give my hands something to do.
Would I even recognize Tyrel when he came in?
I'd stared at his photograph for a long time, but it hadn't been the best quality.
I needn't have worried.
The moment Tyrel stepped into the café, something in the air shifted.
I couldn't put my finger on it, but the atmosphere around me felt different.
Loaded, in a way. Crackling with… I was almost tempted to call it magic, but that was ridiculous.
I tried to shake the feeling and eyed Tyrel as he approached my table. He was stunning.
Oh my God, an actual dragon. I looked at the man in awe.
I'd never seen anyone as handsome. He'd been good-looking in the picture, but the grainy photograph hadn't been able to capture reality.
His hair was black, framing his face like the work of art that it was.
And when he stepped in front of me and his dark gaze met mine, I thought I'd lose myself in the deep pools of his eyes.
He extended a hand. "Tyrel," he said, his voice a dark murmur that seemed to travel over my skin and raise goosebumps in its wake.
I stared at him.
What was wrong with me?
Not even Rory had ever had this kind of effect on me.
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something. My name.
Introduce yourself, idiot.
"My name's Adrian. P-pleasure to meet you." Like you have no idea. I shook his hand and felt something like electricity run through me.
You're being ridiculous.
But I couldn't help what I was feeling. The air around him, between us, crackled with something that I couldn't name and when he squeezed my hand, just for a second, I shivered.
"Pleasure to meet you, too, Adrian."
Don't read anything into those words.
I knew I was just another applicant, but the way he looked at me, damn. Did he look at everyone like that? I hoped not.
He took the chair opposite me.
"Tell me a little bit about yourself, Adrian," he said. "You're unmated? I find that surprising."
"I wasn't always un… Well, I mean, I wasn't always without a partner. Just never married or anything." I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but didn't quite manage. For a minute there, looking at Tyrel, I'd almost forgotten that I wasn't over my last boyfriend yet.
How did he do that?
"Recent breakup?" he asked, a curious expression gracing his handsome face. He leaned back a little, as if to give me space. I didn't want him to back off, though—I wanted him to lean in, as ridiculous as that was.
"Sorry, I'm a little direct," he said when I failed to say anything.
"But this is why we're meeting, no? To get to know each other a bit?
I can imagine you might not be too comfortable carrying a strange man's offspring, and in the same way, I'm not too comfortable having a complete stranger carry my offspring. "
Well, when he put it like that. I hadn't thought about it from that angle, but he had several reasons to carefully pick the man he wanted to mix his genes with.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just still having a hard time talking about that relationship." And if you knew what had ended it, you would never consider me for this job.
For a moment, I thought about telling him how I hadn't been able to conceive with Rory.
If I really didn't want this to go any further, that was my way out.
But… he fixed me with his eyes and I didn't want him to walk away just yet.
It felt as if something terrible was going to happen if I let him do that.
What exactly, I didn't know, but I didn't want to find out, either.
"We had some problems," I said eventually. Just that moment, a waitress came by our table to take our orders.
"And what can I bring you today?" she asked Tyrel, leaning in a little too close for my liking, as if she was familiar with him. Did he come here often?
Of course he does. This is probably where he does all his so called interviews. Don't think you're so special.
"I'll have the usual," Tyrel said, confirming my suspicions. Then he looked at me. "What about you?"
What about me? Right. He wanted my order. I turned to the waitress. "I'll take a regular coffee. Black."
She nodded at me, gave me a smile that didn't seem genuine, and off she went.
"You come here often?" I asked Tyrel before I could stop myself. I wasn't usually so aggressive, but damn, the thought of all the other men he was currently flirting with bothered me. I'd already had one lover leave me because he'd knocked up someone else, and I couldn't go through that again.
"It's a nice place," Tyrel said. Then he leaned forward a bit with a smile on his face that made my heart skip a beat. "Jealous?" His eyes seemed to glow as he looked at me.
Tell him the truth.
The thought came unbidden, and it felt… foreign.
And Tyrel's eyes really did glow. In a way that made me feel both hot and a little uncomfortable at the same time. His eyes were so intense that part of me wanted to do whatever he asked me to do. But at the same time, I realized what a ridiculous notion that was. I hardly knew this man.
"I'm not jealous," I said, if only to spite the voice in my head.
"Oh?" Tyrel raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?
" His eyes lost their glow and for a moment, I thought I'd imagined it ever being there in the first place, but then it was back, even stronger than before.
He fixed me with his gaze and I couldn't break eye contact.
I couldn't do anything except stare back at him and… and what? Wait for an order?
What is he doing?
The heat I'd felt before came back, like invisible tongues of flames licking at every part of me.
"Are you still in love with your ex?" he asked.
"How could I be?" I shot back. After the way Rory had kicked me out…
Tyrel seemed a little taken aback by my outburst, but persevered. "Tell me why you two called it quits."
"No." It was none of his business and I was growing really uncomfortable with this conversation and whatever he was trying to do to me.
I hadn't believed all the stories of dragon magic, but damn, there was definitely something weird going on here.
Something bad. I didn't even care that it was making me hard, too; I just wanted it to stop.
So I forced myself to rip my eyes away from him and stood.
"Sorry for wasting your time," I said, before storming out of the cafe.
"Adrian!" he called after me, but I didn't stop. I needed to get away from him and his magic. Fast. I couldn't allow myself to be manipulated again.
The cold wind whipped my face as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. The air was chilly and I'd forgotten my coat and scarf inside.
Stupid.
Still, I wasn't going to go back for them. How embarrassing would that be?
Determined to bear the low temperature until I got home, I took a step forward. And then I froze when I felt another man's hand on my shoulder.
"Adrian."
Fuck. He'd followed me.
Slowly, I turned around and Tyrel met my eyes. His were glowing again, and the sight hit me even harder than before. Like a punch to the gut that took my breath away, but not painful. No, not at all painful. Just… completely overpowering.
And why the fuck did that feeling make all my blood leave my brain?
"You left this," he said, and I could only guess that he was talking about my coat because I still couldn't take my eyes off his. He wrapped the material around my back and I felt myself stick my arms through the sleeves to put it on.
"That's better." He smiled. My heart thundered in my chest. He wrapped the scarf around my neck, but held on to the ends. Then he tugged and pulled me a little closer, until we were standing eye to eye. I couldn't breathe, couldn't decide whether I wanted to break away or not.
Kiss him.
The thought felt as foreign as that other one, but it had more weight behind it, seemed harder to resist. Because he had me in his hold or because I wanted it too? I didn't know, didn't—
Oh God.
He touched my face and I shuddered. And not because of the cold either. His touch was warm and made my skin tingle.
Kiss him.
This time, the thought was definitely my own. But I didn't act on it, too confused and too scared to move. As much as I wanted to wrap myself around him, to let him pin me down and take what he needed, take everything, I knew that he was dangerous.
And so I closed my eyes and stood completely still, like he was the predator and I was his prey, playing dead and hoping despite myself that he would eat me anyway.
He stroked his thumb along the line of my jaw. "You fascinate me, Adrian," he said. "You truly do."
And then he stepped away.
I didn't open my eyes again until he was gone, wishing he had stayed.
I wasn't going to get this job, was I?