Dragos Takes a Holiday (Elder Races #6.5)(12)

Dragos threw Liam into the air again. “I won’t let him fall.”

“I know you won’t.”

Dragos had dressed in a black silk polo shirt and cream slacks. His clothes were expensive, simple and lethally effective, as they highlighted the power and grace of his muscled body. While he wasn’t much for wearing jewelry, he never took his wedding ring off. He also loved the gold Rolex she had bought him for Christmas, and both it and the braided length of her hair gleamed brightly against his dark copper skin. As he caught the baby one last time and turned to her, she saw that he had shaved as well.

He had made an effort to look nice for her. The knowledge curled into the pit of her stomach and intensified the tug of attraction she always felt for him. She watched him look down her body. When he met her gaze, sultry heat shimmered in his gold eyes.

“I’m hungry,” he said, and she knew again he wasn’t talking about dinner.

She had to clear her throat. Her voice was huskier than ever as she replied, “Me too.”

“Shall we go?”

She nodded and walked over to kiss Liam. Dragos handed the baby to Hugh, and they left.

The heat of the day had begun to ease, and heavy yellow light slanted through the lush greenery as they walked to the Mercedes. She noticed how cleverly the area had been designed to maximize the privacy of the houses, with rows of hedges bordering narrow road. Dragos opened the passenger door for her, and she climbed into the warm car.

He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later. As he turned to her, she asked, “How far away is this beachside—”

The rest of her question disappeared in a squeak as, eyes glittering, he yanked her to him. He took her mouth in a hard, hot kiss.

Her skin flashed with the heat from his mouth, his hands, and her pulse exploded. Melting against him, she kissed him back as hungrily as he kissed her. His pulse raced to meet hers as he slanted his lips over and over on her, driving deep into her mouth with his tongue.

When he finally lifted his head, they were both shaking. He stroked the disheveled hair away from her face and helped her to ease back into her seat.

“I didn’t put a comb in my purse,” she said.

“Leave it,” he told her, very low.

Laughter shook out of her. “I can’t just leave it and walk into public like this. It looks like we’ve been making out.”

One of his black brows lifted as he reached over her to pull her seat belt around her torso and click it into place. “We have.”

He was no help. He loved any and all barbaric displays of his claim on her. While he started the car, she ran unsteady fingers through the thick mass until she had the long, tangled strands smoothed out.

The restaurant was on Ireland Island, just a short drive away. After doing her best to tidy her appearance, Pia rolled down her window to let a blast of fresh, ocean-scented air clear her head. The streets were more narrow and winding than she was used to, but Dragos seemed completely comfortable driving on them. He reversed into a cramped parking space that she wasn’t sure she would have attempted.

Outside the car, he took her hand as they walked to the beachside restaurant, where music played over loudspeakers. The restaurant was open on the three sides that faced the water, and railings that ran the border all the way around except for the entrance. The fourth side, where the kitchen was located, was solid building. A bar lined the wall between the kitchen and the tables, and a dance floor was set to one side.

The place wasn’t fancy. It had wooden tables and concrete floors, but the bar was packed, and so was the dance floor, and the food smelled fabulous. People spilled out onto the beach, drinking and talking together in groups.

Pia studied the scene curiously as she followed Dragos to the bar. There was quite a mix of clientele. Some people were well dressed, but more than not wore jeans or shorts and T-shirts, and many appeared to have just come from the beach. A few looked downright rough, such as the pair of men lounged at the bar.

Space opened up beside them at the bar. Dragos approached.

The two men eyed Dragos speculatively and turned their attention to Pia where their gazes lingered. One of the men was human. He had a wiry build, a beaky face, and long, graying hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore gold earrings, and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

The other man was Light Fae. He was bigger, younger and broader. He was almost as large as Dragos. He, too, had long hair pulled back in a ponytail, only his was blond and curling. He was deeply suntanned, and he wasn’t nearly as circumspect as his companion. He stared openly at her breasts and hips.

He thrust out with his hips as he said something to his companion in a language she had never heard before, and the other man laughed.

Their crudity was like a slap in the face. She ignored them, her expression turning stony, but Dragos didn’t.

Dragos’s immense body turned taut with sudden menace. He turned to face the bigger of the two men, slowly and deliberately, and he took a step forward until he stared down into the man’s eyes. He looked hard as granite, his gold eyes flat and deadly.

People around them fell silent, some animal instinct warning them of possible danger.

Pia’s breathing constricted. The other man stood his ground, with an arrogant, insolent stance. Although it was hard to believe, clearly the idiot didn’t have a clue either who he had ogled, or who he had engaged in a pissing contest. Had he been living under a rock?