Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
“Did you just say that to me?” I asked.
“It seems to escape you that I’m not a fan of your mood either.”
“And tell me, Aleksei, what is my mood?”
“I almost lost you yesterday.”
“That might be an explanation of your mood, not a good one, but an explanation. It isn’t your take on mine.”
“You seem not to understand there are pressing matters at hand. Very pressing.”
“How exactly have I shared with you I don’t understand that?”
“I don’t know,” he drawled. “Maybe something like, I told you I have a meeting in what is now less than ten minutes, I have to prepare for that meeting, something that will take longer than the time I have, but I’ve no choice but to do what I can, and I’m not doing that. I’m having this conversation with you.”
“As I said earlier, your highness, you are free to go. I’m not detaining you. You’re not leaving but instead hanging around in order to throw barbs.”
“And now she plays the victim,” he murmured under his breath, turning to leave.
That was it.
I was done.
I slapped my book down on the daybed.
Comet dashed under it.
“Oh my gods!” I cried. “I am not playing the victim.”
He turned to me, all too eager, despite his assertions that he wasn’t, to be detained.
I shook my head and did it hard.
“No. Nope. I’m done with this discussion. You have pressing matters. We’ll reconvene when you have time.”
I picked up my book again, opened it, and it wasn’t the page I was on, but I pretended it was.
“I’ll warn you now, there is much that was discussed this morning that I can’t tell you,” Aleksei said.
This did not make me happy.
I absolutely didn’t share that at this juncture.
“Consider me warned,” I replied to my book.
He didn’t leave.
I continued pretending to read.
He still didn’t leave.
I quit pretending to read and looked at him. “Anything else, your royal highness?”
His eyes sparked purple, and he growled, “When you call me that when you’re pissed, it takes everything I have to stop myself from turning you over my knee.”
“I’m not a child,” I snapped.
“Darling,” he purred. “It wouldn’t be that kind of spanking.”
Drat it all, my sex dampened.
He sensed it or smelled it and the spark in his eyes became fire.
“Though, you’d learn your lesson,” he finished.
He wasn’t to be believed.
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
I continued to stare at him.
He kept staring at me.
I carried on staring at him, and I did it resolved it wouldn’t be me who spoke the first word.
He broke our staring contest. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
No, you won’t. I’m dialing one, ordering food, eating in here and giving you loads and loads and LOADS of time to get over whatever this is.
“Later,” I replied, turning back to my book.
He left.
I suddenly felt like crying.
I didn’t.
I needed to pin down the queen.
Or I needed to talk to Mr. Truelock. He seemed like he might know where Aleksei’s head was at.
Either way, I needed someone, anyone, to tell me what was going on with my mate.
I needed this so I wouldn’t kill him.
I put my book down, found my Palm and text commed Mr. Truelock, asking if we could have a chat when he was done with work, but before dinner.
I knew him better, that’s why I picked him.
I also didn’t have the queen’s number. Anytime we made plans, we did it through aides.
I barely set my Palm aside before the tone sounded.
It was Mr. Truelock.
He was just the best.
I took his video comm. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Are you all right?” he asked, appearing concerned.
I looked to the door.
It was open.
I got up and walked to close it, saying, “I have something personal to discuss.” I shut the door and said quietly, “About Aleksei.”
“Is he all right?”
The answer to that was a big fat no.
“Can we talk after you get done with work?”
“We can talk now, Laura.”
Totally the best.
“It might take a while,” I warned him.
“You’re concerned because his instincts have engaged,” he deduced.
“Well, I think so, except that they’re weird.”
“I can imagine it’s very intense.”
“More like…cold, distant, argumentative.” Mean.
“I’m sorry?” he queried, now appearing confused.
“It’s like with every conversation we have, he’s picking a fight. Like, he’s going for all the vulnerable spots, prodding them, even pushing at them to force me to react.”
“Your vulnerable spots?”
“Mine.”
Mr. Truelock said nothing, but now he appeared contemplative.
“It’s only been today, and yesterday was a lot,” I explained. “I get the sense he’s more upset than he’s willing to let on that we lost Antheme, so that might be part of it.”
“I’m not a shifter, as you know,” Mr. Truelock said. “But I do know, when their protective instincts have engaged, the males are very unpredictable. But shifters are creatures of action. For dragons, to that action, you can add fire. Either way, it’s known this runs hot. For a dragon, I would suspect very hot. Not cold and argumentative.”