Dragos Goes to Washington (Elder Races #8.5)(23)

She didn’t believe him. Perhaps things might smooth over, but Dragos never relied on blind optimism as a viable course of action. She had no doubt that very trait was one of the reasons why he was still alive, and so successful.

Her heavy eyelids refused to remain open any longer and drifted shut. You’re still going to hire that cadre of civil engineers and consultants, though, aren’t you?

Hell, yes.

They might have only been together for eighteen months, but in some ways, they already knew each other so well. She smiled, and the smooth rhythm of the limo’s engine lulled her to sleep.

When she woke up again, they had arrived back at the Wyr residence and he was carrying her up the magnificent staircase. He had slipped her high heeled shoes off, and they rested on her stomach.

“Shades of Rhett Butler,” she muttered, putting her hand on the shoes to make sure they didn’t slip off and fall to the floor.

“What’s that?” He bent his head toward her. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Mmph. Don’t be sorry.” She yawned again. “I have to get ready for bed anyway.”

He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “I was going to zip you out of your dress.”

Her tired body pulsed at the idea, but overpowering as the mating instinct could be when it held her in its grip, instead of perking up, she felt rather ill. Scratching her thigh, all she could look forward to was shedding the Dior so she could spread some lotion over her itchy skin.

“Much as I would love to,” she mumbled, “I’m too exhausted tonight.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we do anything.” He used her feet to push open the bedroom door and carried her inside. “We both need a good night’s sleep to face tomorrow and the rest of this week.”

He set her gently on the end of the bed, and she braced her body upright with both hands planted on the mattress. “We have all those horrible people coming over here for dinner. Actually, I like several of them individually. It’s just that so many of them don’t like each other, and when they all get together, all these squabbles break out.” She rubbed her forehead as she thought of the Coltons. “Only some of them are just plain horrible.”

“Don’t think about that right now.” He shed his jacket and pulled off his tie with a sigh. “Think about crawling between nice, cool sheets and turning off the light.”

As she was thinking of the Coltons anyway, her mind went to what had happened earlier, and she started to snicker.

“What?” He glanced at her curiously as he stripped off his shirt.

She deepened her voice to mimic him. “I look forward to having you for dinner tomorrow.”

A wicked grin lit his hard face. “The look on their faces was my one pleasure of the evening.”

While he strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth, she went to sit at the vanity to smooth cleansing cream over her face. As she wiped off the cream and makeup with tissues, her true complexion appeared. She looked dead-fish white, with blotchy areas where she had been rubbing her skin and dark circles under her eyes.

She made a face at herself in the mirror. When Dragos got tired, he just looked more rugged and dangerously sexy, with a piratical hint of dark beard shadowing his lean cheeks. When she was exhausted, she looked like something a cat might throw up.

He left the bathroom, totally nude, and climbed into bed, and it was her turn to use the bathroom. She forced herself upright and went to brush her teeth as well, and splash the last of the cream off her face. Her skin was still blotchy from where she had rubbed it with tissues. She frowned at her reflection and shimmied out of her dress.

Then she reached for her body lotion and propped her foot on the rim of the bathtub to rub lotion on her irritated skin.

A large bright, angry red patch covered the expanse of her thigh. Freezing, she stared at her leg. Then she looked over her shoulder again at the reflection of her still blotchy face.

“Oh, God,” she sighed. This was the last thing she needed.

She hadn’t said it very loudly, but her mate had ears sharper than any other creature she had ever personally met. Dragos said from the bedroom, “What is it?”

“I’m all blotchy,” she complained.

He appeared in the doorway, frowning as he took in her appearance. “Did you eat any of the hors d’oeuvres?”

“Yes, but I made sure to ask if they were vegan first. I always do.”

His frown deepened as he touched her leg with one forefinger. He motioned for the bottle, and when she handed it to him, he began to spread body lotion gently over her leg. “Recipes can be sneaky. Maybe the servers made a mistake, and something had a trace of meat, fish or dairy in it. Do you feel nauseated at all?”

She was vegan, not only by choice, but by nature too. Her digestive system simply didn’t recognize any meat, fish, or dairy products as food.

“No, but I’m still wearing the diamond necklace.” She made a face at him. “I don’t want to be blotchy this week, not while the world’s going to hell in a handbasket.”

He studied her with narrowed eyes. “Take the necklace off.”

Sighing, she complied. As soon as the pendant left contact with her skin, her stomach heaved. Tossing it with a clatter onto the nearby counter, she lunged for the toilet.

While she struggled to rid herself of everything in her stomach, strong hands came down on her, one cupping her forehead and the other bracing her back. Feeling too sick to indulge in self-consciousness, after she finished vomiting, she leaned her trembling body against his large, steadier frame.