Page 31 of Kenna's Dragon

I’m not totally clueless about where it’s coming from. The man she thought she was going to marry walked out of her life a little over a year ago. It’s been one of the hardest things for her, feeling like those years with Cody were wasted. I reach out and squeeze her hand in understanding.

“Not the time for a heart-to-heart,” she mumbles.

I nod before finally turning around to face Blair.

He’s looking right back at me, hands resting casually in his pockets, chin tilted up and golden eyes gleaming with unmistakable challenge.

This is a bad idea. This is the worst idea. This is something new-Kenna would never do, not in a million years.

But old-Kenna? Apparently that bitch is pretty hard to kill, because looking at Blair dressed down, with a little stubble over his jaw like he didn’t bother shaving this morning, and that teasing glint in his gaze, no part of me wants to turn down his offer.

No, the longer I look, the more tempted I am.

When it comes to Ewan Blair, I’m in big, big fucking trouble.

15

Blair

Offering to take Kenna out for a drink wasn’t something I did consciously.

No, as far as I’m concerned, one moment I was helping my friend Ari into her car and the next I was standing here in front of her, my offering hanging in the air between us. It wasn’t even a choice to be drawn to where Kenna was standing in another pair of painted-on jeans and a tight, low-cut top that’s got her breasts pushed up so high they’re threatening to spill right over.

With the temptation she presented beckoning me forward, I could no sooner have resisted than I could have stopped the beating of my heart or the rush of fire in my blood that consumed me as soon as I was near her.

Now, though, with all her friends watching and Kenna still standing silently in front of me, I begin to realize this might not have been the best idea.

And even beside that, my evening with Ari already had me on edge.

Ari’s a cambion I’ve known for decades. She’s the President of the Paranormal Advancement Society, and although she’s a friend and a peer whose counsel I’ve always valued, our conversation tonight was grim. It’s not only the Bureau that’s been feeling the ramifications of shifting public sentiment around paranormal integration, and after spending a couple of hours commiserating with Ari, seeing Kenna was like an unexpected candleflame held up against my dark mood.

An ember, just like I called her in my office after she kissed me. Burning brightly and sending all those shadows skittering away. And gods above, I’m not strong enough to turn away from her right now.

I want Kenna to say yes. I want to take her somewhere, talk to her, spend a little more time basking in the light and the heat of her.

At the same time, I know I have no right. Not tonight. Probably not ever, with the way I’ve behaved toward her.

I’m about to open my mouth, rescind the offer, and tell her to have a good night with her friends—even if the idea of her going anywhere looking like that makes me feel like dragon fire is crawling up the back of my throat—when she glances over at the woman next to her. They share a few seconds of silent conversation before Kenna turns back to me.

“Alright,” she says. “I’ll get a drink with you.”

The dragon in me roars his approval, and all of those reservations burn to ash in the glow of her acceptance, but I merely give her a nod. “I know a place near here.”

She turns briefly and says something into her friend’s ear before pulling her into a hug and sharing a short laugh. The other woman walks away to join the rest of their group, leaving Kenna and I alone.

“You didn’t have to accept,” I tell her, nodding after her friends. “If I’m ruining an occasion, you can still turn me down.”

Kenna shrugs. “Well, since the whole point of this night was to distract me from thinking about you, and now here you are, it seems a little too late for that, doesn’t it?”

Her candor catches me off-guard.

“You—” I stutter, lost for words, but Kenna doesn’t seem to expect a reply.

“You said you know a spot?” she asks, looking at me expectantly.

I nod, still feeling off-balance as I cup a hand around her elbow and steer her toward the next intersection. Instead of bristling at the touch like I might have expected, she leans into it for a moment before shifting slightly to wrap her arm around the back of mine.

I glance down at her in surprise, but she just shrugs again.

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