Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
ZOE
I wake and turn over within the circle of a man’s arms. Beautiful, muscular arms. A quick glance at the clock reveals it’s almost three a.m. I rub an eye with one fist and prop myself up on my elbow, running my hand down the front of my chest. I’m wearing silk pajamas. Real silk. Definitely not mine.
“What the fuck?” I whisper. Within the nest of a plush comforter, the color of which is lost to the darkness, I stare down at the man who just seconds ago was wrapped around me like a shawl.
I can’t make out his face in the darkness, but there is no question in my mind that it’s Seb.
His smoky sandalwood and citrus scent is a dead giveaway.
I’m in Seb’s bed.
In his pajamas.
And was, only moments ago, being spooned by Seb.
Goddess, did I have sex with him while I was on gold dust? Did he take advantage of me?
“Zoe?” he whispers softly. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”
“Why am I in your bed?” I ask, sounding somewhat defensive. He promised to care for me, not take advantage of me while I was completely out of my mind.
“You blacked out. You came out of your trance and collapsed. I thought about calling in a doctor, but I was afraid that would just complicate things.”
Probably afraid they’d commit me like last time. At least that was a good call on his part. “I’m glad you didn’t. But that still doesn’t explain how exactly I ended up in your bed.”
I hear him move. I sense he’s pushed himself up, but I can hardly see. A sliver of moonlight sifts through the blinds on the windows, but it’s not enough to make him out clearly.
“I needed to stay close to you to make sure you continued breathing. Besides, as I mentioned before, dragons have healing properties. I knew if I lay beside you, you’d recover more quickly.”
“Oh.” Is that a line or the truth? I don’t feel like I’ve had sex, but… Shit, I’m just going to have to ask. “Seb, can you turn on the light?”
“You can’t see in the dark. I forgot. Sorry.” He leans over and turns on the bedside lamp, casting us both in a soft glow. I look down at myself and then back at him. He’s wearing a set of pajamas that matches my own.
“Did we have sex?” I blurt, feeling my ears heat with an intense blush. Now, I almost wish the light were still off. Then again, he can see in the dark anyway, so a lot of good that would do me.
“No!” he says quickly, adding a light laugh. “I only kept you here because you were unconscious, and I was afraid to leave you alone.”
“But why am I in your pajamas?” I lift the oversized silk from my shoulder.
He winces and rubs his forehead. “You, uh…”
He hesitates, and I want to shake the words loose. What? Got sick? Spilled something on my clothes?
“You wet yourself. While I was holding you.”
“Oh shit.” Now my entire face must be red. I’m so embarrassed, I could cry.
“No one knows but me,” he says softly. “Not even Patrick. I washed your clothes myself. Gave you a bath and changed your clothes. No one will ever know. Your stuff is in the washer, if you want it now.”
His words are so kind, I almost feel guilty for suspecting him a moment ago. But really, what was I supposed to think? I barely know him. My brow lifts. “But, um, then, it was you who changed my clothes?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yes.” He clears his throat. “And bathed you.”
I make a low, throaty sound.
“I couldn’t very well leave you to marinate in your own piss, Zoe.” His mouth twitches again.
“Just to be clear, one of the people in this room has seen the other person in this room naked, and that person is you.” I scratch my jaw, my cheeks still feeling hot.
“Yeah,” he says dismissively. “Does that bother you?”
I snort. “Why should it bother me that a near perfect stranger saw me naked?”
“I mean, I didn’t see anything that concerned me,” he says through a constrained smile. I glare at him. “No oddly shaped moles or suspicious rashes. Your tattoos are tasteful.”
Fuck. My throat feels tight, and my voice comes out higher than usual as I say, “You saw my tattoos?”
He presses his lips together as if he’s trying his hardest not to be smug.
“Yup. The tree of life on your calf. The flock of birds on the back of your shoulder.” He lowers his voice.
“The dragon you have at the base of your spine. Interesting choice, by the way.” The words drip off his tongue like hot honey.
Okay, if I blush any brighter, my face is going to melt off my skull. Pull it together, Zoe! You are a grown-ass woman! I mentally slap myself, take a deep breath, and will myself not to be embarrassed. “To be fair, I got that tattoo before I’d ever met a dragon in person.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t look like anyone I know.”
I laugh too. “I hope not. It’s based on a character in a book I read.
Your dragon is beautiful, though.” The thought of his dragon’s rich brown scales, edged in gold, sends me leaping from the bed, everything I experienced in my gold dust trance rushing back to me.
“I need pencil and paper, stat. I have to write down what I learned about the ring before I forget.”
I race from the room toward the main part of the house. I think I saw an office off the hallway to the dining room.
“How do you know what my dragon looks like?” he asks, hot on my heels.
“He was there, in the Gold Room with me.” I glance back at him. “Where can I find something to draw with?”
“Take a left. Office is at the end of the hall.”
I take off at a fast clip.
“How do you know you were seeing my dragon and not a mental construct of a dragon?” he presses.
I laugh. “Oh, it was definitely you. His scales were a rich, glossy chestnut edged in gold, and he smelled like you. Plus, he was standing right next to you.”
No sound comes out of his open mouth.
I raise my brow. “Wow, Sebastian York speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.
So, I take it you’re shy about who gets to see your dragon?
Still doesn’t make up for you seeing me naked, but it’s something.
” I duck into the office and sit down in the high-backed leather chair.
I reach for a drawer, but Seb beats me to it, pulling out the bottom one and handing me what I need.
As I start to sketch, he drifts back toward the doorway and leans against the wall. “It’s not that I’m shy about it. I just didn’t think it was possible. He usually remains inside me unless I let him out.”
I stop, my pencil poised over the paper. “You can let him out? Like, in the real world?”
He nods. “I’ll show you sometime. Not here, of course. Outside. He’s…big.”
“That’s what they all say,” I mutter, shading the side of the ring to try to represent the dark aura.
“Wait, you said he was standing next to me, but he wouldn’t have fit in that room.”
“The Gold Room is open. Things are there but not there. The walls of the room didn’t really exist.” My eyes flick up.
“I wasn’t really focused on his size, Seb, because I was trying to understand the threatening evil pulsing at me from the ring, but if it makes you feel better, he was plenty big.
Impressively big.” I turn back to my drawing.
Seb mumbles, “I know how big he is. I just wondered how it worked.”
I start in on what I remember of the first layer, depicting the ribbons weaving into the metal.
“It’s not something we usually show people,” he grits out. I glance up, and he’s picking at an imperfection in the paint on the doorframe.
“Either is my tramp stamp.” I arch a brow.
His Adam’s apple bobs. Seeing him vulnerable like this, it stirs something deep inside me.
I was turned on this afternoon when I hugged him, but Goddess, him standing there with his hair mussed gives me the strongest urge to run my hands over his silk pajamas.
I bet they’d be soft. Silk over hard muscle.
I wonder if his skin would taste as good as he smells. Mmmm.
His nostrils flare, and he looks at me, his eyes widening. He clears his throat. “The ring. Tell me about it.”
With a start, I refocus on the page and start drawing again.
“Right. It’s the most complex and dark magic I’ve ever seen.
” I add what I remember about the second layer of magic.
I use labels to break out the details: the symbols, the smells, the taste at the back of my throat, the tingle on my skin.
Everything. “Honestly, I’m not doing it justice, but it’s impossible to record in a two-dimensional drawing.
And I can’t remember all the details. Was it a lambda or a nu?
Shit, I can’t remember. I hate that I can’t record what I see while I’m there. ”
“Why can’t you record what you see? I thought you used it to write music before. You would have had to take notes while you were using. Hell, you did entire concerts while using.”
I finish sketching and lean back. “Yes, but I need both hands to pull apart the enchantment on this ring in order to see the moving parts.” I show him how I do it, even though now, without the gold dust, nothing happens.
“It’s as if I’m holding open a window. I’d have to close the window to take notes.
Or record my voice. Maybe if I narrate what I’m seeing.
” I shake my head. “I didn’t know what I was dealing with before.
I’m going to have to go back in, and when I do, I’ll be ready. ”
He scowls, looking concerned. “You came down hard, Zoe.”
I shrug, rotating my drawing a quarter turn on the desk. “I have maybe a third of what I observed. There’s no way I can analyze it or even start to experiment with antidotes to the magic unless I get this right.”
When Seb doesn’t say anything, I look up at him. “Are you okay?”
“Did my dragon…interact with you while you were studying the ring?” he asks, but his voice sounds funny. Almost strangled.
“Not exactly.”
“Specifically, then.”
“Huh?”
“You said my dragon didn’t interact with you exactly. What does that mean, specifically?”
I frown. “He watched me and seemed to watch the aspect of the goddess I was communicating with. Honestly, it was nice having him there. I’ve never had anything conscious on that plane with me.”
“Oh.”
“Why? Is this still bothering you?”
He swallows hard, his hand tugging at one ear like the question makes him nervous. Is he sweating? “You should know, my dragon has taken a particular interest in you.”
“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s not catching.”
I squint at him. “What do you mean that your dragon has taken an interest in me?”
He sighs, his silhouette cutting an enticing figure against the shadowy hallway. “It’s just a thing with my species. Sometimes dragons can become…fixated.”
I put the pencil down and stand from the chair, moving toward him. “Hey, you literally changed my piss-stained clothes. I think I can deal—” My head starts to spin before I reach him, and I sway on my feet.
He lunges forward and sweeps me into his arms before I can fall.
“I keep ending up in your arms,” I say, blinking up at him. I mean it to be funny, but it falls between us, oddly intimate. The awkward moment is made even more awkward when my stomach growls.
“You’re hungry.” His brow bunches.
“Gold dust burns a ton of calories. And I could really use some water. Can you point me in the direction of the kitchen? I haven’t had a chance to give Patrick that list yet.”
“Point you in the direction…” He laughs. “Like I’d trust you to make it there without cracking your head open.” He starts walking down the hall with me still cradled in his arms. “No. I’ll give you the full-service treatment.”
I can’t resist laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes.