chapter 3

Chapter Three

Myra

By the time I slipped through the back door of my father’s house, it was almost two in the morning.

My shoes were in my hand.

My heart was somewhere in my throat.

And my lips still tingled from kissing the Dragon.

I hated that.

No—I hated that I loved it.

One kiss.

It hadn’t even been a real kiss, not really. I’d surprised him, pressed my mouth against his for barely a heartbeat, then nearly died of humiliation when he sent me home.

Yet my body apparently hadn’t received the message that I’d been rejected.

I could still remember how close he’d stood.

The water clinging to his dark hair.

Those impossible blue eyes following every nervous movement I made.

His bare chest.

The way he’d said Nova.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Stop it.”

Thinking about him wasn’t going to change what happened.

The Dragon had rejected me.

End of story.

I crept through the kitchen.

The house was silent.

Good.

I knew exactly which floorboards creaked, which doors squealed and how far I could turn the staircase knob before the old wood complained.

Being raised by Angelo Benardi had taught me useful skills.

Mostly how to move through my own home like a burglar.

I reached the hallway.

A lamp clicked on.

I nearly screamed.

My mother sat in Father’s enormous leather chair in the sitting room.

Her arms were folded.

Her expression was anything but sleepy.

“Myra.”

Oh, shit.

“Mom.”

“Where have you been?”

My brain scrambled for an answer.

“Katrina’s room.”

Mother stared at the shoes dangling from my fingers.

“Did you climb out the window to reach Katrina’s room?”

I looked at my shoes.

Traitors.

“I can explain.”

“Then explain.”

She stood.

My mother wasn’t a particularly intimidating woman. Years of living with Father had made her quiet and cautious.

Tonight, however, she looked furious.

And scared.

Mostly scared.

“Do you have any idea what your father would do if he discovered you left this house?”

“Which is why we’re not going to tell him.”

“Myra!”

“Keep your voice down!”

Her eyes widened.

I rushed toward her.

“Please.”

Mother looked toward the staircase.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then she grabbed my wrist and pulled me deeper into the sitting room.

“Where were you?”

“Out.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one I can give you.”

“Were you with a man?”

Heat rushed straight into my cheeks.

Mother’s face changed.

“Oh my God.”

“Nothing happened.”

At least that was humiliatingly true.

“Myra, who?”

“No one.”

“You sneak out in the middle of the night, return at two in the morning looking like…” Her eyes swept over me. “Like that, and expect me to believe there isn’t a man involved?”

“Looking like what?”

“Your lipstick is smeared.”

My hand flew to my mouth.

Nicholas.

The kiss.

My stomach fluttered again.

Damn him.

Mother saw the reaction.

“Who is he?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know.”

Her mouth fell open.

That sounded significantly worse out loud.

“I mean, I know him. Sort of.”

“Myra.”

“He’s safe.”

“You don’t even know his name!”

Okay.

She had me there.

“He’s…the Dragon.”

Mother stared at me.

I immediately regretted speaking.

“The what?”

“Forget I said that.”

“The Dragon?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“What kind of man calls himself the Dragon?”

A very attractive one.

A ridiculously attractive one.

A man whose chest I needed to stop remembering.

“I don’t know.”

Mother covered her face.

“I’m going to faint.”

“Mom.”

“Your father is going to murder both of us.”

“He won’t know.”

She dropped her hands.

“Why did you do this?”

That question stopped me.

The humor disappeared.

I looked at her.

“Because I heard you and Dad.”

Her face drained of color.

“Earlier tonight.”

“Myra—”

“I heard him say something involving me would be settled tomorrow.”

Mother looked away.

There it was.

Confirmation.

My stomach sank.

“Who is he?”

She didn’t answer.

“Mom.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re my mother.”

“And he is my husband.”

“That doesn’t answer me!”

“Keep your voice down.”

I laughed bitterly.

Of course.

Always quiet.

Always careful.

Always terrified Father might hear us.

“Who is he?”

Mother closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, they were filled with sadness.

“Your father hasn’t finalized anything.”

“But there’s a man.”

Silence.

“There’s a man.”

“Yes.”

The room suddenly felt too small.

“Do I know him?”

“No.”

“How old?”

“Myra.”

“How old?”

She hesitated.

That was enough.

I backed away.

“Older.”

“Your father believes he’ll make a good husband.”

“I don’t care what Father believes!”

“Myra—”

“No!”

I caught myself and lowered my voice.

“I watched him do this to Katrina. I won’t let him do it to me.”

“You may not have a choice.”

The words sliced straight through me.

I stared at her.

Maybe Mother realized what she’d said because her expression immediately softened.

“I’m sorry.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You’re right.”

“Myra…”

“I don’t have a choice.”

I thought about the Dragon.

His question.

Because you think tomorrow your life stops belonging to you.

He’d understood.

A complete stranger had understood in minutes what my own mother had accepted for years.

I swallowed.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Myra, promise me you won’t see that man again.”

I stopped.

“Promise me.”

I should have.

Nicholas had already rejected me.

There was no reason not to promise.

Instead I whispered, “Goodnight, Mom.”

Then I walked upstairs.

⸻

Nicholas

I should have forgotten her five minutes after she left.

I didn’t.

That pissed me off.

I stood in front of the same windows where I’d caught her wandering through my apartment.

Manhattan glittered below.

Usually the view cleared my head.

Tonight it wasn’t doing shit.

Myra.

Nova.

Whatever the hell she wanted me to call her.

I took another drink.

Bad idea.

Everything about her screamed trouble.

She was sheltered.

Inexperienced.

Impulsive.

And apparently trapped inside some medieval family where her father believed daughters were bargaining chips.

Not my problem.

I had plenty of problems already.

I didn’t rescue women.

I didn’t date clients.

I definitely didn’t get emotionally involved with them.

There were reasons the Dragon worked.

Rules.

Boundaries.

No confusion.

Women came to me because they wanted an experience. They knew what I offered, and I knew what they expected.

Then they left.

Simple.

Myra wasn’t simple.

I could still see her standing in front of me with that stubborn expression, pretending she wasn’t terrified.

Then she’d kissed me.

I touched my bottom lip before I realized what I was doing.

“Jesus Christ.”

That kiss had lasted seconds.

Maybe less.

But the moment her lips touched mine, every disciplined thought in my head had gone silent.

I’d wanted to grab her.

That was the problem.

I hadn’t expected to want her at all.

Then she’d stepped into my space, risen onto her toes and kissed me with absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Soft.

Nervous.

Sweet enough to be dangerous.

I’d frozen because if I’d kissed her back the way my body demanded, she wouldn’t have walked out of my apartment believing I’d rejected her.

She would have learned exactly why women called me the Dragon.

And she wasn’t ready for that.

Hell, maybe I wasn’t either.

My phone vibrated.

I glanced at it.

A message.

I ignored it.

Then another arrived.

I cursed and picked up the phone.

Business.

Actual business.

The part of my life nobody associated with the Dragon.

I answered it quickly, then returned the phone to the counter.

Myra’s identification flashed through my memory.

Benardi.

That name bothered me.

I’d heard it before.

Not from a client list.

Somewhere else.

I walked into my office and opened my laptop.

It took less than a minute.

Then I found him.

Angelo Benardi.

My jaw tightened.

Well.

That was interesting.

Very interesting.

I leaned back.

So little Nova wasn’t simply some rebellious rich girl trying to escape an overprotective father.

She was Angelo Benardi’s daughter.

And that meant she had absolutely no idea what kind of world she’d been born into.

Or maybe she knew just enough to be terrified of it.

I stared at Angelo’s photograph.

Then Myra’s face returned to my mind.

Her wide eyes.

Her nervous mouth.

The stubborn lift of her chin when I’d told her no.

You don’t get to decide that.

I almost smiled.

She had fire buried underneath all that innocence.

Someone had simply spent her entire life trying to smother it.

My phone was in my hand before I consciously decided to pick it up.

Her appointment was still scheduled for tomorrow.

I should cancel it.

Refund the money.

Block the account.

Forget her.

That was the intelligent decision.

Instead, I opened her reservation.

NOVA — TOMORROW, 9:00 P.M.

My thumb hovered over CANCEL.

I pictured her kissing me.

My body responded instantly.

“Bad fucking idea,” I muttered.

I closed the screen without canceling.

⸻

Myra

I didn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blue.

Nicholas’s eyes.

Except I still didn’t know he was Nicholas.

To me, he was the Dragon.

And apparently the Dragon had taken up permanent residence inside my head.

At four in the morning, I finally gave up pretending.

I grabbed my phone.

His page was still open.

I knew I shouldn’t.

I clicked one of the videos anyway.

There he was.

Fully dressed in black, sitting in a chair while talking directly to the camera.

His sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

His expression carried the same quiet confidence I’d seen in person.

Except now I knew what the camera didn’t show.

I knew how tall he was.

How his voice sounded when there was no microphone between us.

How intensely he watched someone when he was trying to understand them.

I knew how close I’d been to his bare chest.

And I knew what his mouth felt like.

Barely.

My cheeks heated.

I replayed the kiss in my head.

What if he had kissed me back?

A shiver traveled through me.

I buried my face in my pillow.

“This is pathetic.”

My phone vibrated.

I froze.

A notification appeared.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

Your appointment remains confirmed for 9:00 P.M.

I sat upright.

He hadn’t canceled it.

I read the message again.

And again.

My pulse began racing.

The Dragon had sent me home.

But he hadn’t removed my name from his list.

Tomorrow night—

No.

Tonight.

I looked at the clock.

4:07 a.m.

Tonight, I had another chance.

And this time, I wasn’t going to kiss him and run.

⸻

Nicholas

At exactly 4:08 a.m., my system showed that Nova had opened her confirmation.

I stared at the notification.

Then smiled despite myself.

She was awake.

Of course she was.

I wondered if she was thinking about the kiss.

I certainly was.

Tomorrow—technically tonight—I would see her again.

This time there would be rules.

Distance.

Control.

I’d find out exactly what Angelo Benardi was planning before Myra made any reckless decisions.

That was all.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

Because admitting the truth would have been far more dangerous.

I wanted her to come back.

And when I remembered the way Myra had looked at me just before she kissed me, one thought burned hotter than all the others.

If she kissed me again…

I wasn’t certain I’d let her run.