Dragos Goes to Washington (Elder Races #8.5)(25)

But here, in this one place, he told her, I’m yours.

His own climax took him over, and he gave it to her. She watched him without blinking, without hardly breathing, stroking his face as he gave her everything he had.

After staying with her for long moments, he eased away, reached for the tissues on the bedside table, and helped her to clean off her inner thighs. Then he pulled her with him, so that they rested with their legs entwined. Utterly drained and satisfied in the best way possible, she buried her face against his chest and fell deeply asleep again.

When she woke next, she was alone in the bed. Rolling over, she took stock of her immediate surroundings. While the room still remained in deep shadow, a bright yellow band of sunlight along the edges of the curtains told her the day had advanced significantly.

Dragos wasn’t anywhere in the room. The open door to the bathroom revealed that it was empty and quiet. He had left her to sleep in.

She tsked softly, partly in exasperation but mostly in contentment. There was so much to do that day—so much—but she couldn’t deny that it had felt really good to get her sleep out.

As she rolled to her side of the bed, she saw a piece of paper resting on the bedside table. Picking it up, she saw that it was covered with Dragos’s bold scrawl.

No need to come with me this afternoon. Try to relax today. The staff can take care of everything for tonight. – D

Try to relax, when the president, the vice president, the speaker of the House, both the majority and minority leaders of the Senate, and all the demesne leaders, along with their spouses and personal security retinues were coming to the Wyr residence for dinner?

“I love you,” she told the note. “But sometimes you are a foolish, foolish man. Although undeniably a very handsome, sexy one.”

Kissing the paper, she set it aside, called down to the kitchen to request a pot of coffee and a bowl of fresh fruit and then she got out of bed.

As soon as she stood upright, nausea punched her, hard and wicked, and more powerful than ever. She bolted to the bathroom, and her body twisted into wretched spasms.

Finally, she was able to sit back on the floor and take in a deep breath. Instinctively, she scanned her body again. Still no baby.

She didn’t have time to mourn the lack of a tiny life spark within her. Damn it. Damnity damn damn it. Her leg itched furiously, and as she scratched it, the itching grew even worse. She looked down at herself.

Her thigh was redder than ever, a dark, angry color, and covered in bumps.

A knock sounded at the door. Pia rolled to her feet. Swirling nausea gripped her by the throat. She grabbed for the diamond pendant, slung it on, and the nausea subsided. She called out, “Who is it?”

“Eva. I’ve got your breakfast tray.”

Her bathrobe hung on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. She snatched it and put it on. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Eva carried the tray inside. As the other woman set it on the bedside table, Pia strode up to her and yanked one flap of the robe aside to bare her thigh. “What is this?” she demanded. “Do you know?”

Eva turned to look at her leg, and her eyebrows rose. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “Looks likes hives to me.”

“Hives?” Pia was trying to avoid scratching at it, but the itching was driving her crazy. “Isn’t that what happens when you’re allergic to something?”

“Yeah. What’d you do, eat something you shouldn’t have?”

“No.” She frowned. She had also never before had such an extreme reaction to eating something she shouldn’t. “At least I don’t think so.”

“Well, if you’re allergic to something, you might react within a couple of hours, but it can take up to seventy-two hours for food poisoning to set in, so you could be reacting to something you ate as long as three days ago,” Eva said. “It could take you a couple of days to get over it.”

Pia tried to think back, but she had no idea what she had eaten three days ago. She hadn’t been paying attention . . . although she was pretty sure she had eaten everything from home that day, so the food should have been safe.

She growled in frustration and dashed back to the bathroom to look at her reflection. Her skin was still pale and blotchy. She threw up her hands. Great, just bloody great.

“Maybe you should see a doctor?” Eva had followed her to the bathroom and was watching her with a troubled expression.

“See a Wyr doctor in D.C.?” Snorting, she turned away from the offending mirror. “Good luck finding one. Humans take over-the-counter medication for allergies. It’s called antihistamines. Have you heard of it before?”

Eva rubbed her face. “Yeah.”

Her gaze met Eva’s. “I’ll put in a call to Dr. Medina, but in the meantime, get me some antihistamines. I don’t care what brand. I’m going to make it through this day if it kills me.”

But first, she was going to take a shower to see if that would calm down the infernal itching, at least until Eva could get back with the medication. Eva took off, while she showered, smothered her leg in lotion and dressed in jeans and a light silk sweater.

Thank the gods, Dragos had taken off some time ago to attend the day’s functions without her. She drank a quick cup of coffee, ate a few bites of fruit, and called the doctor’s office.

Dr. Medina was busy dealing with an emergency, the office manager told her, but she would be sure to return Pia’s call as soon as she could. Pia hung up, went to the vanity and smoothed another ten pounds of makeup on her face to hide her blotchy complexion, until she looked more or less normal.