Dragos Goes to Washington (Elder Races #8.5)(27)

“You’re wound a little tight there, lover,” he murmured.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve downed a bucket of coffee today.” She leaned back against him. “All of them are going to be here, Dragos—all of them under our roof.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss against her warm skin.

“Has that ever happened before?”

“No, it hasn’t. We’ve had a majority of leaders at functions and meetings before, but not every head of state in the continental U.S. at once.”

She gave a reluctant chuckle. “You could have told me a reassuring lie. I’m sorry I’m being such a flake. I was fine until about fifteen minutes ago, and then I dissolved into this big ball of nerves.”

“You’re going to be amazing tonight,” he told her. Pia didn’t have a fancy political science degree, but she had good instincts about people, so he asked curiously, “I meant to ask you earlier but forgot—what did you think of Johnson when you danced together?”

The tension in her body eased somewhat. “You know, I liked him. Of course we didn’t talk about anything very important, and I know he’s known for being charming, but still he seems to have a core of real decency. He didn’t try to disguise his scent, and just the fact that he asked me to dance says that he has a moderate stance to us—not only the Wyr, but also the Elder Races in general, I think.”

He nodded slightly, while still maintaining contact on her skin with his mouth. “That’s been my impression too. I think he’s genuinely concerned about the outbreaks of violence that have occurred over the last two years, and he wants to work together to minimize the risk of further violence in the future. And another positive—neither he, nor his wife, are participating in the Right to Privacy movement.”

“It sounds like you had a productive day today,” she said, reaching back to stroke his cheek.

“We did, I think.” He lifted his head to consider the outfits strewn over the bed. “Wear the midnight blue dress. The blue almost matches your eyes, and I like how you look in it.”

She let out a big sigh that sounded relieved. “I should let you pick out all my outfits this week. It’ll save me a lot of time.”

He grinned. “As long as I get to pick out your lingerie too, you’re on.”

“Okay, but you’d better hurry,” she muttered. “I mean it. I’m going to be downstairs in twenty minutes. Other people can afford to be late, but not the hosts.”

Obligingly, he turned to the dresser that held her intimate apparel. As he did so, his gaze fell on the small boxes on the nearby table. He asked, “By the way, what are these boxes?”

She threw a glower at the boxes as she rushed to the vanity table to pull out the hot curlers. “They’re antihistamines for my rash.”

“So it hasn’t disappeared yet?”

“No,” she sighed. “Maybe it will be gone by tomorrow.”

He pulled out a dark blue bra and matching panties, relishing the feel of the silken material. Later, he would take these off her after she stepped out of that shimmery dress. At the thought, his cock stood at attention, but she was right. He didn’t have time to indulge the urge.

Later, he promised himself.

Turning around to offer the lingerie to her, he asked, “Have the antihistamines helped any?”

“Sort of. The itching is a little better, at least so that I can ignore it when I’m busy, but the rash hasn’t gone. I called Dr. Medina, but she was in an emergency, so if the rash isn’t gone by morning, I’ll call her again.” She snatched the lingerie from him, pulled off her dressing gown and dressed swiftly.

He had to look away from the luscious sight of her tucking her full, pale breasts into that sexy bra. Focusing on her leg instead, he frowned at how much skin the dark red rash covered. “Call her anyway, even if the rash calms down. I want to know what she has to say.”

“Okay.” She shimmied into the dress and put her back to him. “Zip me up?”

“With pleasure.” He helped her with the zipper and placed a final kiss at the back of her neck. Then he changed into a clean suit, a darker one more suitable for the evening, and as they left the bedroom, the dragon surfaced again in his mind.

He had once been much more feral, but age had taught him how to appreciate the more delicate aspects of warfare conducted over a well-cooked meal.

Because he had no doubt of it—while some of his guests tonight would be more moderate and open-minded, other guests were definitely waging war against him.

Tonight was his best chance to study them in order to discover the best way to defeat them.

If that included destroying them in the process, well then, so be it.

*     *     *

As the first of the guests arrived in a flurry of greetings, for the dozenth time that day, Pia did another mental head count of everybody attending.

The humans attending were the president, vice president, their respective chiefs of staff, the Senate majority and minority leaders, and the speaker of the House, along with all their spouses or plus ones.

On the Elder Races side—and even though Isalynn LeFevre was human, as head of the witches demesne, she counted personally and politically as one of the Elder Races—all seven of the demesne leaders were present, along with their spouses or plus ones.