The Dragon Billionaire's Secret Mate: BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (8 page)

"Yes," Samuel said, smiling.

Theresa laughed. "That's kind of cool."

Her eyes were slipping closed, her body reminding her that she hadn't slept in more than 24 hours. She fell asleep cuddled up close to the heat of Samuel's body.

They spent the rest of the day in bed, sleeping for hours, waking up to make love again and again, only getting up to raid the fridge. They fed each other the best pieces from a left-over appetizer plate, bacon-wrapped dates and tiny pieces of cheese on a stick. Theresa licked her fingers after, not thinking of anything until she saw Samuel watching her, his eyes dark and hungry. He caught her hand and sucked the tip of her fingers into his mouth, his tongue teasing gently at her skin.

They didn't make it out of bed for another three hours after that, and then they had a shower together, kissing slow and lazy in the middle of Samuel's enormous, luxurious shower stall, warm water pattering down at them from every angle.

They slept for a couple more hours, wrapped up in each other, and finally dragged themselves out of bed at seven in the evening. Theresa's entire body felt loose and sated, sore in the best possible way.

There was a ball at the Hilton that night. Theresa stood by the dance floor, watching the whirl of laughing, glittering dancers. Samuel's arm was wrapped warmly around her shoulders. She felt like a princess out of a fairytale, her in one of Sue's spectacular dresses, Samuel so gorgeous in a tux it almost hurt to look at him. Her dragon prince. It didn't feel like this could possibly be her life; her boring, ordinary librarian life.

"Would you like to dance?" Samuel asked, with the first notes of a Viennese waltz starting up. And, well, there was the problem right here. She wasn't a fairytale princess. She'd never been to a ball in her life, and she had no idea how to dance.

But Samuel only shook his head when she told him that, completely unconcerned. "Do you know the waltz steps?" he asked.

She did, sort of. They'd had a dancing lesson or two in gym class in high school. She' forgotten most of it, but the waltz was simple enough she thought she could probably still manage it.

"That's all you need," Samuel said. "Just follow those steps and trust me."

They started out slow, Samuel holding her close. Theresa vaguely remembered the pimply boy who'd danced the waltz with her in gym class, the way he'd trodden on her feet ten times during a two minutes dance.

Samuel led her gracefully, effortlessly through the steps, his strong hand on her waist guiding her exactly where she needed to be, compensating for any mistakes on her part. He guided them into a faster and faster rhythm, following the music; twirling her around until the whole room was a whirl around her and she was at the center of it, safe in her dragon's arms.

She felt a little dizzy, after, her heart racing; knew that her face had to be red.

"I'm gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?" she asked.

"I can get it for you," Samuel said immediately. There was a long line at the bar.

"No, it's fine. I could use a moment to cool off."

By the time she came back with two glasses in her head, Samuel had been joined by his brother. Severin had pulled him aside to the very edge of the room, where they were shielded by a line of potted plants. Severin was standing very close, talking to his brother in a low, urgent voice, his face hard, his eyes glittering dangerously. They were having an argument, that much was obvious.

Theresa hesitated. She didn't want to intrude. Neither of them had seen her yet. But then she remembered the way Samuel's shoulders had slumped when he'd told her about Severin and the way his relationship with his brother had soured. Maybe he'd appreciate some moral support. She came a little closer, until she could hear what they were talking about.

"…what I can't figure out," Severin was saying, his voice a low, dangerous hiss, "Did you think I wouldn't be able to tell—or did you really not know?"

"You're wrong," Samuel said sharply, cutting Severin off mid-sentence. "I don't even know where you get these ideas of yours. Theresa isn't my mate. I'm not in love with her. I'm paying her to show me a good time, that's all there is to it."

Theresa stopped dead in her tracks. Something wet and cold hit her wrist. She realized her hands were shaking badly enough that she'd spilled the glass of Champagne in her hand. Her entire body had gone numb. Her eyes stung.

She'd known, of course. She'd known this was only temporary, and that just because she'd fallen for Samuel hard and fast, that didn't mean he felt the same. She'd accepted that he wasn't in love with her. But hearing him talk about her like that, in that casual, dismissive tone, as if she didn't matter to him
at all
… She couldn't take it.

Any minute now, the brothers were going to turn around and see her standing there with tears in her eyes. Theresa flinched at the thought of having to explain herself, imagined the look of pity in Samuel's eyes when she told him how much she loved him, when he didn't feel the same…

No. That was the last thing she wanted.

Theresa sat the glasses down on a nearby table. One of them fell over and shattered, but she couldn't stop to clean it up. Tears were running freely down her cheeks by now. All she wanted was to get away before they saw her.

She walked as quickly as she could without outright running, keeping her head down, letting her hair fall in front of her face like a curtain, trying to hide her tears.

The hallway in front of the bathrooms was blessedly dark and quiet. Theresa took a deep breath.

"Theresa?" someone called behind her. A woman's voice.

Theresa reluctantly turned around. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. She could imagine what she must look like, a shaking, ugly mess, make-up smeared halfway down her face by her tears.

It was Vivienne, Samuel's brother's wife. "What happened, dear? You look terrible!" she asked.

Theresa felt a violent blush creep over her cheeks. Vivienne, of course, looked perfectly put together, spectacularly beautiful in a green dress, her blonde hair streaming halfway down to her waist; she was just about the last person Theresa wanted to meet when she herself was this much of a wreck.

"I'm fine. It's just—I just need to—" Theresa started, then had no idea how to go on. She didn't want to talk about it, but she also didn't have a convenient lie prepared, and her mind was blank and empty.

"Oh dear," Vivienne said, not unkindly. She reached out. Theresa let her take her hand, embarrassed, but not wanting to outright reject the offered comfort.

The moment their skin touched, she wanted to snatch her hand back. Vivienne's skin was icy, not cold like human skin but like real ice, like sticking your hand into a pile of freshly fallen snow. Vivienne held her with iron strength, not letting her pull away. Ice crept up Theresa's arm, through her entire body, until even her thoughts felt frozen and sluggish. And then everything went dark around her. Someone caught her just before she hit the floor.

***

Samuel heard the tinkle of broken glass and turned around. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades when he turned his back on Severin, aware of his unprotected back. His heart was pounding inside his chest. If he couldn't make Severin believe him—if he couldn't make sure Theresa was safe—

God, he was an idiot, he was ten kinds of an idiot; how could he not have seen? He should have realized Theresa was his mate. It shouldn't have taken Severin to point out the half-formed bond between them. He'd felt it from the start: the irresistible pull toward her that had started the second he'd laid eyes on her picture. He should have recognized what it was he was feeling. He'd fallen for her so hard, so quickly.

But then, bonds always developed slowly, for dragons. Yes, the pull was there from the start, but the real bond, that could take weeks, even months to reach its full strength. And he'd been caught up in his brilliant scheme, so determined that he had to keep things temporary and casual to keep her safe, that he'd never thought to look at his own feeling and reconsider what it was he felt.

Of course she was his mate. Of course.

And now Severin knew about Theresa—

Theresa.
It was Theresa who'd dropped the glass. She was walking away from them, her head held high but her shoulders tense with misery. She must have heard what they'd been talking about. Must have heard Samuel's lies.
Oh God.

"Theresa!" he called, but she didn't seem to hear him. He had to stop her, he had to explain—

Severin caught his arm when Samuel made to go after her. Samuel realized that he'd given the game away with his reaction. But then Severin had known anyway.

He had to get to her. If she was his mate, he could protect her. But he had to find her now.

He yanked his arm free. But it was too late. He'd lost sight of Theresa in the moment of hesitation, and now the press of bodies in the room shielded her from view.

Samuel ruthlessly pushed through the crowd, not caring whose toes he stepped on. He had to get to his mate.

The hallway in front of the bathrooms was empty and deserted. "Theresa?" Samuel called, but he already knew she wasn't here. He could feel it.

Where could she have gone? She wasn't at coat check; she wasn't in front of the hotel. Maybe she was still in the ballroom after all? But no, she would've wanted to get away from people. Maybe she'd caught a taxi, he tried to tell himself, maybe she was already safely on her way home…

No. He could feel it, an instinctive knowledge deeper than thought: his mate was in danger.

An icy shudder ran down his back.
Severin
.

But surely even Severin wouldn't go so far as to do anything to Theresa. Sure, he'd driven Samuel's dates away before, with tricks and lies, but physically hurting anyone…

But he would, if he thought Vivienne was in danger. Finding his mate would give Samuel the strength he needed to finally go up against Severin and fight for the position of alpha. Did Severin really think he'd hurt Vivienne? Sure, in some clans things like that happened, even now: the victor in a duel killing the previous alpha's mate, to make sure they'd never be a danger again. But Severin had to know that Samuel would never…

But Severin hadn't really known Samuel for a long time. They'd grown so far apart… Who knew what Severin might think he'd do? And if Samuel thought Vivienne was in danger, there'd be nothing he wouldn't do.

The truth hit him like a shock of ice water. Severin must have taken Theresa. He must have been planning this from the second he realized what she was to Samuel.

Severin wouldn't do anything to her here, not inside the limits of the city. Samuel knew where Severin would take her. Their place out in Du Page county, a few acres of land bordered by a dense patch of forest, where no one—Samuel flinched, but made himself finish the thought—where no one would ever find a body.

Samuel pelted down the stairs towards the parking garage. They'd come by taxi, but he needed a car. A fast car.

There was a group of chauffeurs sitting by the entrance to the garage, smoking and chatting.

"Mr. Ashbel, is everything okay?" one of them called.

Samuel recognized him. Gregor, who'd been his driver a few times before when he'd rented a car for the night. Samuel pulled his wallet out of his pocket, took all the bills out and shoved them into Gregor's hand. He yanked off the Rolex on his wrist and handed that over, too.

"I need to borrow your car."

Gregor stared at him, wide-eyed. "Sir, um—I'd love to, but I'm gonna get fired!"

"You'll have a job with Aurum for the rest of your life," Samuel said. "Or—I'll write you a check, you'll never have to work again at all. I need the car."

His desperation must have come across. Gregor nodded slowly, looking at Samuel warily, as if he might snap at any second. He might, Samuel realized. If Gregor didn't hand over those keys—there was a chunk of concrete on the floor in that corner over there. He could smash in a window, try and hotwire the car.

He had no idea how to hotwire a car.

His mate was out there, and she needed him. He'd find a way.

"All right," Gregor said. He held out the key.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," Samuel said.

He peeled out of the garage with screeching tires, slowed down at the intersection just long enough to make sure no one was coming, and floored it through the red light. His breath came in panting gasps. He was braced against the steering wheel as if he could physically make the car go faster. If he didn't make it in time—

Theresa
, he thought.
Hang on. I'm coming.

***

Theresa woke up muddled and confused, her head aching fiercely. It was dark when she opened her eyes. She could see the stars above her. It took her a moment to realize what was wrong with this picture.

She'd been at the ball, with Samuel. A pang stabbed through her at the memory of what had happened. She'd run away, that was the last thing she remembered. How had she gotten here? Those weren't city stars, washed out by the reflected glow of a million lights; this was the crisp, bright night sky you only got out in the country. They weren't in Chicago anymore.