Chapter 5
Meera
Steam still clung to the bathroom mirror as I stepped out of the shower, my hand throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.
The jerk who’d grabbed me earlier had left my wrist bruised and aching, but that wasn’t even the worst of it.
I’d gone and fucked it up even more while trying to clean up the car window glass.
I’d barely managed to get the cuts to stop bleeding, and they still stung every time I moved.
At least I was clean now that I’d had a shower. I carefully dried my hands, and with the rest of me still dripping wet, I went in search of a first aid kit. I found it in the cabinet under the sink. The thing was a total joke.
Everything inside was expired, crusty, or useless. The only bandage left was teeny tiny. Fantastic. Because what I really needed at this moment was a Band-Aid for ants. I let out a frustrated sigh and tossed it back into the box.
With nothing else to work with, I wrapped the too-small towel around myself, tucking the ends in tight, and pushed open the bathroom door.
I stopped in my tracks and nearly dropped the towel.
Because he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
When I’d left him, it had been eight versus one. Clearly, he’d won. He looked even bigger in the cramped motel room, shoulders squared, hands resting on his knees like he’d been waiting for me to come out.
Shock hit first. Then outrage surged up hot and fast.
“What are you doing in here?” I demanded with all the rage of an injured and cornered animal, because, well, that was kind of how I felt right now. “You stalker!”
He had no right to be here, and definitely not while I was wearing a towel that could double as a napkin. He didn’t flinch when I snapped at him; instead, his gaze went straight to the injured hand that I was trying very hard to ignore.
“I’m not going to hurt you, woman. Now why don’t you calm down so I can help you?”
Calm down? Calm down! He wanted me to calm down when I spent the last few hours running for my fucking life. Oh hell, no!
“Calm down? You broke into my room!”
“I’m trying to help you. I’m Graham, and I’m a good guy. Desmon sent me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Good guys usually don’t need to preface that they are the good guys.”
“Here.” He brought out his phone and pulled up a video. “See. That’s you, right?”
On the screen was the video I’d sent after that poser hung up on me.
“How do I know you didn’t take that from the phone I ditched?”
“You don’t. But if I just wanted to steal the egg, I could’ve done that while you were showering. And if I wanted to get rid of you, I could’ve done that too. All without you even knowing. I’m here to help.”
Okay, so he had a point. I forced myself to relax. “Fine. You can help by passing me my bag. The one with my clothes.”
He did, and when I reached over to take it from him the towel slipped a little. I yanked it tighter.
“Nice towel.” He didn’t even pretend to look away.
I ignored him and dug into my bag instead.
“Don’t worry, woman, you’re not my type.”
I rolled my eyes, not sure if I should feel reassured or offended. “Neither are you.” I forgot for a second how sore my wrist and hand were. I hissed and swore before switching hands.
Before I could react, his hand closed around my uninjured wrist, and I found myself yanked forward until I was in front of him, trapped between his knees. The whole-ass building probably heard my shriek of indignation.
“You’re hurt,” he said, voice low but firm. “Don’t be so difficult and let me see.”
Difficult? I’d show him difficult. I tried to pull back, but it was like fighting with a statue.
His fingers slid to my injured arm, turning it carefully. His touch was surprisingly gentle for someone who just fought his way out of a mob of assholes. He studied the cuts with a frown on his face that made him look rather menacing.
“This needs to be bandaged.”
“No kidding, smart ass,” I shot back. “The first aid kit here is useless.”
“I have something in the car.”
Perhaps there was the stress of this entire freak of a day, but I cackled in his face, sounding like I was auditioning for the part of evil stepmother.
“Oh, right. And I guess I have to come with you, huh? Into your car?” I tightened my grip on the towel. “Yeah, no. I’m not doing that. Now let me go. I don’t even know who you are,” I snapped. “And you broke into my room. I’m not following you anywhere.”
“I already told you my name. It’s Graham. You’re the one who’s being a stranger.”
I ignored him. If he wanted my name, he was going to have to work for it.
He shrugged. “Have it your way, Trouble. You stay here with Omelet. I will retrieve my pack.”
Omelet? I narrowed my eyes at him disapprovingly.
“What? It’s not like it has a name yet. And we can’t just keep calling it ‘the egg’ the whole time.”
“Why not?”
Instead of replying, he deposited me unceremoniously on the bed next to the dragon egg.
“Wait!” I yelled, but he was already out the door.
Being alone again in that room, even for a moment, felt awfully surreal. Like somehow I’d just hallucinated everything that had happened, and the huge guy wasn’t really coming back.
I checked on the egg—no way I was calling it Omelet.
It was intact and looked just as shimmery and beautiful as ever.
I carefully wrapped it up and zipped it back inside the bag.
For some reason it felt wrong to have it stuck inside the bag all the time, which was why I’d unzipped it so it could…
I don’t know… breathe? Did the egg need to breathe?
With the egg hidden away again, I stuffed my dirty clothes into my other bag and dug out a new set of clothing.
I’d been hoping I’d be able to get a few hours’ rest, but clearly the fates did not have that in the cards for me.
I chose my most comfortable pair of jeans, the pair that had basically molded to my ass over the last year of constant wear, and a T-shirt, just in case I had to go back on the run with my treasure.
For now, I was willing to hear this guy out, mostly because I didn’t really have much of a choice, but also because I was exhausted.
As long as I cooperated, I didn’t need to run.
It was a gamble, but probably the best choice I had until I could get away.
He could squash me like a bug if he wanted to, and right now it was about survival, both for me and the egg.
I was wrestling one-handed with my jeans when the door swung open. I froze, a startled sound catching in my throat. I twisted my body, catching a glimpse of my sexy stalker standing in the doorway.
My jeans were stuck halfway up my thighs, giving him a perfect view of my ass. All I could think about was that I’d just pulled on a cute pair of thongs, the red lacy ones. His eyes widened for a split second, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.
I scrambled to pull my pants on, hopping on one leg. I stumbled. I watched in slow motion as the dirty motel carpet came rushing at my face. I never hit the floor. Big, burly arms caught me and pulled me against an equally huge body.
Before I could protest, he sat back on the bed with me in his lap, holding me still. The world was still spinning, and I reached out with my good hand to steady myself.
“Careful, Sweetcheeks,” he murmured, already reaching for my injured arm.
I glared at him.
He shrugged. “I still don’t know your name. And I did just get a good glimpse of some sweet cheeks.”
I sighed. “It’s Meera. And I can do it myself.”
He chuckled. “You can’t even put on your pants.”
My mouth dropped open. “Wow. Rude.”
“Guilty as charged,” he countered, pulling me a little closer so he could see the cut better. “But do you blame me? I’m stuck babysitting you and Omelet all the way back to Darlington. Now, hold still.”
I hissed at the sting of the disinfectant. “Iodine? I thought people stopped using that decades ago.”
“What can I say, I’m old-fashioned.”
I grumbled to myself but didn’t pull away. His hands were steady and warm, and the way he focused on my arm made it hard to keep up my irritation.
“Tell me what happened, starting with your name. How did you end up with a dragon egg?”
“So it really is a dragon egg? I never got confirmation from whoever I talked to earlier. And don’t you dare tell me that it was Desmon. I’m not stupid.”
“It wasn’t. You spoke to Mateo, the head of security at the museum.” He picked up a bottle that looked more like poison than anything that should go on a wound.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a magical ointment. It helps accelerate healing.”
Before I could stop him, he slapped some on the injury. It didn’t hurt. But it did make it feel a lot better almost instantly.
“This better not kill me.”
“It won’t. Now it’s your turn to talk. Name, and tell me what happened.”
I sighed and launched into my story from the very top, starting with my name.
I told him how I’d snuck into Karim’s office to hide some cameras in my search for proof of his infidelity, and how I’d hidden in the closet.
I recounted how when he returned, not with his secretary but with a man I’d never seen before, the deal they were trying to make had gone south.
Then I told him about the panic I’d felt when I had watched the man I thought I was going to marry murder someone in cold blood.
“I ran out so fast that I didn’t realize I picked up the wrong bag until I got home.
My gym bag is still in his office, and the egg is with me.
I knew I couldn’t just give it back and pretend everything was hunky dory, not after what I’d seen.
So, I ran. I called the museum since that was the closest thing to contact with a dragon I had. ”
By the time I got to the part where I was hiding behind the counter at the coffee shop, I realized he’d already finished bandaging my hand, and I was still tucked up against his body, molding to him better than these jeans to my legs.
The big guy ran hot, and the temperature in the motel was dropping as the night progressed.
Then there was the fact that my ass was still hanging out, my jeans having given up halfway up my thighs. There was only a thin scrap of fabric between me and the rough denim of his pants.
A part of me knew I should push him away, but my back felt so good pressed against his chest. The stress of the day had officially caught up with me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. I was done fighting, at least for now.
“Well, now I’m the closest thing you have to a dragon.” He seemed less grumpy than he had when we first met, probably because I wasn’t fighting him anymore.
“So you’re really here on behalf of Desmon?”
“I am.” The corner of his lips lifted in an amused grin that made him look sexy as sin.
“Fine. I’ll believe you. For now. But only because I’m really tired and I need someone to watch my back while I sleep.”
“You’re not sleeping here. First, there are still people after you. And second. The lock to the door is broken.”
“You broke the lock? Damn it.” I groaned. “First the car window and now this? Today is going to cost an arm and a leg.”
“I’m sure Desmon will cover all your expenses.”
“Seriously?”
Now that was the first bit of good news I’d had all day.
“Yes. But you will have to come with me. You’ve witnessed a murder, and over a dragon’s egg no less. It is no longer safe for you to return to your life.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said with a sardonic eye roll. “I was trying not to think about that so I don’t freak out.”
“You may freak out now. It is safe.”
“So you say. But technically, I still don’t have my pants on. How safe is that?”
He chuckled. I expected him to release me so I could remedy the issue, but instead, he reached for the waistband of my jeans and hauled them up my legs, his knuckles brushing against my sensitive skin.
I suppressed a shudder as my brain, treacherous thing that it was, imagined him ripping my pants right back off.
I held my breath, afraid to breathe as he fiddled with the button.
“There, all done.” He carefully picked up the bag with the egg, and then my other bags as well. “Now let’s get out of here before they find us. I don’t want to have to wipe the floor with their asses again.”