Dragon Heartstring(28)

“Painfully?”

“Mmm.”

“Me, too,” I admitted, though I couldn’t tell him what Aunt Asheera had said. Not yet. “So what do we do now?”

“That’s simple.” He brushed my hair away from my face and gazed down intently, both of us still breathing hard. “We obey our hearts. And tell the world to go to hell.”

I giggled. “You call that simple?”

“Very.”

“And are you willing to tell the world to go to hell, Demetrius?” I swept my fingers through his wet locks curling around his face.

“Yes,” he answered readily. “I am.” He cupped my cheek, stroking his thumb along my jaw to my chin. “Are you, Shakara?”

My heart leapt at the truth of this perfect moment. “Yes.”

He stood and helped me into a sitting position then pulled up his pants and snapped them. Chuckling, he pointed at my shoulder. I peered over to find something stuck to my skin.

“Paperclip,” I said with a giggle, flicking it off before I hopped off the desk and picked up my jeans.

“Hazards of sex in the workplace,” he teased. Then he sobered. “I’m sorry for this. I’d wanted our first time to be more…or less…”

“Don’t,” I said, pulling him close and stopping his mouth with a kiss. “No regrets. It was perfect.”

I smiled. He had said our first time. He’d thought of us together, for longer than one coupling. And my heart warmed. I pulled on my panties and jeans. “I can’t believe we did that on Carra’s desk.”

“Let’s not tell her.”

“Um, no,” I said with a laugh as I rehooked my bra.

A sudden crash and shattering of glass. I screamed. Demetrius lunged in front of me, pulling me to his chest with his back to the door. Tires squealed. He jerked his comm out of his pants pocket and sped to the door. He unlatched the lock and ran out to the street, all in a few seconds.

I glanced around for the object that had made the noise. I finally found it on the floor a few feet away. Hearing voices outside, I hurriedly pulled on my blouse and turned on the light. Then Demetrius returned, shirtless and drenched again as the rain still poured outside and now leaked through the broken pane.

“Who were you talking to?”

“The bodyguard Lucius had following you.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t seen anyone. But of course I wouldn’t. All of Lucius’s men were highly trained for covert operations.

“Did you see who it was?” I asked.

“No. It’s too dark, and they fled quickly.”

We both zeroed in on the object they’d thrown through the window. Demetrius leaned over and picked it up. A brick with a message chalked in black on the bottom.

“What does it say?” I asked.

He clenched the brick and read, “Beasts with wings don’t belong. Keep Our Race Clean.”

If I thought it was storming earlier, it was nothing compared to the black cloud covering Demetrius’s countenance now. The man had a glower to rival Lorian Nightwing. And that was saying something.

“KORC?”

“Yes.”

KORC was a sad little organization. It was started by some blue bloods at Gladium University needing to protest something and feel relevant in the world. They had few followers and were never known for being violent, only idiotic.

He leaned over and pulled on his shirt, though there were no buttons still intact. “Do you have a garbage bag?”

“Um. Yes.” I quickly found one in the kitchenette and returned with it.

He’d found some medical tape in a drawer and used it to tape up the window so the rain wouldn’t soak the floor. “Let’s go.”

I shouldered my bag. He pulled me close as we headed outside where the rain had slowed to a sprinkle and guided me toward his large, black SUV parked out front.

“I can fly from here,” I said.

He pulled to a stop. “I know. But please, would you allow me to take you home and make sure no one is waiting there?”

I glanced at his vehicle. It did seem to have enough room for my wings, but I’d never ridden in a land vehicle. “Okay. Sure.”

The tension eased from his face. He tucked me in on the passenger side, and my wings did fit fine when I pulled them tight against my back. His vehicle was large and roomy. However, no Morgon male would fit. Demetrius threw the brick in the backseat.

He punched a message into his wrist comm before pulling away from the curb.

“Who are you texting?”

“Lucius.”

We didn’t speak the rest of the way home. The joy we’d shared earlier had vanished, but the intimacy was even more palpable, stronger.

He escorted me up the elevator, into my apartment, and then took a moment to walk through every room. There had been no signs of a break-in. Then he returned to the door and pulled me into his arms.

“Shakara,” he whispered against my temple. “Keep your comm at your bedside. I don’t think they’re stupid enough to try anything at your home. But please call me if anything strange at all happens. Or if you just need to talk. Anything.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Sudden panic gripped her and twisted her stomach in a knot.

“Not for long. I’ll be back.”