Page 219 of Nine-Tenths

"Yes, drill sergeant," I mutter. "You both gonna stand there and watch?"

Gem rolls her eyes, but drags our brother out of the room.

Alone at last.

I seriously consider crawling back under the blankets, but I can hear voices in the house below. I canfeelCook and Sarah's patience running thin from here, so I slump to the ensuite to start my day. I've only got an hour before the brunch starts, so I pull on my wedding suit, knowing that someone will stop me somewhere between the bedroom and the ballroom to tie my cravat correctly.

Last night, Dav and I had taken a moonlight stroll through the vineyard and exchanged private wedding gifts. I'd given him a lovely golden ear cuff, the same color as his freckles. It was dripping with rubies the shade of his scales, and citrines that matched his sunflower eyes. I'd seen a similar design on several of the dragons at court, and I wanted to proclaim my adoration of this man to everyone who saw him rock up to the noble sessions in his sexy-ass court attire.

In return, he'd gifted me with a Marchon's circlet, a headband meant to be worn across the brow the same way he wore his. It was silver, etched with a simple stylized streams of fire, and and wreathed with hammered metal grape leaves which cradled the four pearls of a Marquisate. Little embedded chips of emerald made the leaves shine when I tilted it to catch the light. While the design was too masculine to be called a tiara, exactly, it still fulfilled essentially the same purpose.

I slide the circlet over my arm, which feels like a stupid way to carry it. Unfortunately, our second, distinctly more fleshyexchange of gifts last night meant that I'd been too caught up in the afterglow, and I'd accidentally left the fancy cushioned box somewhere out among the grapes. And I'm not supposed to wear the circlet until Dav puts it on me in the ceremony, so… actually, I should find Hadi and make her look after it as my Best Man.

Best Lady.

Best Friend.

Ugh.

Coffee.

I'm not the only one desperate for caffeine. When I make it to the kitchen, there’s a handsome, ginger-haired dragon standing in front of the gloriously fancy espresso machine that had been gifted to us. Dav's huffing and muttering to himself, wrenching on the steamer wand like a cranky toddler.

"You'll break it," I say from the doorway, and Dav jumps, mouth sparking guiltily.

"This wretched thing… I'm sorry," he says. "I cannot make it give up anything palatable. I think Raibeart Rìgh sent it to tease us."

"It works if you do it right," I tell him, hanging my jacket and circlet over the back of one of the chairs. "Shove over." I hip check my fiancé out of the way when he moves too slow, and he slaps my ass in retaliation. "Careful now, you're gonna want that in pristine shape for tonight. Get some mugs."

As Dav does, I start the Americano, press the espresso, line up the wand, tap out twenty-seven seconds with the toe of my chucks as the machine hisses.

"Caffe Tobio for you, sir."

Dav takes a sip and sighs in delight as I start a caramel latte. "I'd ask for a scone to go with it, but I don't think burning down the kitchen this morning is a good idea."

"Ha fucking ha. Nice suit by the way. Clothes horse."

"Just because I come from an age when men wore high heels and actually cared about their appearance—"

By then I'm done at the machine. I set both of our mugs on the counter, and he takes my hand. He presses five soft kisses against the dime-sized scars on my bicep. Which becomes a kiss on the shoulder. Which becomes a sucking kiss on my neck, low enough that my collar will cover it later. Which becomes—

"Oh my god!" Gem shrills. She's in the doorway with Carys in her arms. The baby clamps her hands to the side of her head. "What are you two doing?"

"Having sex in the kitchen?" I say, at the same time Dav blurts, "Just getting coffee!"

Apparently our guests were thinking the same, because Owain shoves past Gem to wag a finger at us. "You shouldn't even be looking at him! It's bad luck!"

"Neither of us is a bride, Father," Dav snorts.

"Still bad luck," Laura tuts, following him in and heading for the cupboard to take down mugs.

"That's not fair!" I whine, gesturing at Dav'severything. "He's evolved from a Snacc-Dragon into a full-ass three-course-meal."

Hadi rolls her eyes as she elbows past me to get at the espresso machine. "Okay, who wanted what?"

The rest of my family, the rest of Dav's, and all of our friends pour into the room.

Before I know it, Mum's got my waistcoat buttoned, Paulette's got my cravat, and my throat, in her claws, and my caramel latte isso far away.

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