Page 27 of Graveyards & Greed

He chuckled. “Sanity's overrated. The mad hatters and nonconformists of the world are the ones who make life interesting.”

His off-the-cuff comment somehow soothed me. I was one of those mad-hatter nonconformists. I let out a long breath, ducked my head, and slid into the passenger seat. As he walked around and got in, a thought flitted through my mind.

“Who’s your grandfather?”

Drakos’s white teeth flashed in the twilight. “That’s a question you should have asked before you agreed to the bet.”

“Who is he?” I asked again.

“Alexander Berkovich.”

I turned and stared at his profile, my mouth hanging open. “Your grandfather received his Grandmaster title in… well, sometime in the 1980s. He was also one of the pioneers of blitz chess. Yourmaternalgrandfather, I take it.”

He nodded and glanced at me. “Besides him, you’re one of the best players I’ve gone up against. But I probably have an unfair advantage.”

“You think?” I snapped. “Yeah, learning to play chess from aGrandmastermight be considered an unfair advantage.” Annoyance—mostly at myself—bubbled inside, but I unclenched my hands and tried to calm down so I wouldn’t throat-punch him. I was also reluctantly impressed.

“What other fun surprises do you have in store this week?” I couldn't shake the feeling that the next seven days were going to be life-altering.

He smiled but didn’t answer. Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the garage under his loft. When he turned off the engine, the silence was almost deafening.

“Welcome to your home for the next seven days.” Drakos took my bags, and I followed him up the stairs. His loft was as clean and modern as I remembered. He led me into the cavernous living space. The exposed brick, wood beams, and metal ductwork made the space feel like something straight out of an industrial chic magazine spread.

He walked to one of the tall sliding doors on the far wall, and I followed him into his bedroom. His massive bed stood in front of a gray brick wall and was made up with soft gray bed linens. He watched me study his room with those unnerving blue eyes. I needed to set some boundaries.

Turning to face him, I crossed my arms. “Let's get a few things straight,” I began, setting my purse down on the bench at the end of his bed.

“By all means, let's,” he replied, his lips curling as he leaned against the closet doorframe.

“This bet doesn't change anything. I'm here because I lost fair and square, but I don’t want to be your maid, or sex slave, or whatever twisted version of domestic bliss you might have in mind.”

He grinned and straightened. “I have a weekly cleaning crew who comes in. We’ll straighten up after ourselves and cook together when we eat here. And I’m not interested in a sex slave.” He paused and held up his index finger. “Alright, I can’t say that idea doesn’t intrigue me. But I want an active, willing participant when we fuck.” He stepped in front of me and took my hands in his. “I also want to spend time with you, banter, laugh, and learn more about how your fascinating mind works.”

He fascinated me too, even if I didn’t want to admit it. My shoulders loosened, and I gave him a small grin. “I can live with that. And watching you parade around in those five-thousand-dollar suits won’t be a hardship.”

“They’re more like ten thousand, but who’s counting? I have a few hobbies that require more casual clothing—or no clothing at all.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a devilish grin.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I tilted my head. “What hobbies? Moonlighting as a serial killer? Working at an all-kill animal shelter?”

He shook his head. “We’ll have time to discuss our hobbies later. Tonight, let’s find something to eat and settle in.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Let me make you an early dinner since we missed lunch.”

I rolled my neck. Standing here in his bedroom next to his vast bed with his scent surrounding me left me fidgety. “You know how to cook? Because burning down your loft probably isn’t the best way to spend our first night.”

Drakos raised an eyebrow. “I think the bed, not the kitchen, is where we’ll start with that.”

I’d walked right into that one. He laughed at my scowl and stepped close to cup my face. “Let’s get comfortable with each other first and eat a meal together.” He took my hand and led me back into the big common room. “Come on, before my cock overrides my good intentions.”

We settled on chicken and rice. The tension simmered as we worked efficiently together, and he did know how to cook. When the food was ready, we sat at the kitchen bar.

“Has anyone from OutKast come by the mortuary lately?” he asked as he set a glass of white wine in front of me.

“No, but my cousin Callum mentioned the other day they’re offering a reward for any information on Samuel.”

Drakos grimaced. “I hoped they bought the story he ran away to avoid prosecution.”

“I think his father knows he was too lazy and stupid to live on his own.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes lost in thought, then Drakos turned to me. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

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