Page 6 of Kenna's Dragon

“Well, you don’t have anything to worry about. With Mr. Blair, I mean. He’s—”

I don’t get to find out what Mr. Blair is, because the office door opens and the dragon himself steps out.

“Ms. Byrne. Please come in.”

The rumble of his deep voice is even more compelling now than it was downstairs in the meeting. Standing on legs that feel oddly like jelly all of a sudden, I walk to his door. He holds it open for me, and as I brush past him I almost imagine I hear the slight catch of breath in his throat.

Blair follows me inside, closing the door and gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, take a seat.”

I do, watching warily as he circles around the desk to sit across from me. And damn if I don’t feel like a kid called in to see the principal, waiting to hear how many days of detention I’m about to get.

The whole vibe of Blair’s office just adds to that tension. The space is large and open, and its top-floor location gives it great views of the city. With dark walls and carpeting, a wide mahogany desk, and heavy, expensive furniture, it’s impossible not to feel out of place here.

Shifting a little, not sure what I’m supposed to do with my hands or where I’m supposed to look or what I should say, I settle for meeting Blair’s golden gaze where he’s sitting silently and staring at me just like he was during the meeting.

It’s a mistake.

He’s even more handsome up close, and I can’t stop myself from taking a full inventory of his solemn, serious face.

Blair radiates authority from the firm line of his jaw to the sharp cut of his cheekbones to the unyielding focus in his gaze, with a few scatterings of softness tossed in like an unexpected afterthought. His full lips, the slight crinkles around the corners of his eyes, and the faintest hint of gray in the dark brown hair at his temples.

In human years, I’d say he looks about forty, but what that equates to in dragon terms, I can’t even begin to guess.

Not that I have any spare brain cells to dedicate toward guessing. Not when he’s still looking at me without saying a single word, studying my face in that keen, uncanny way of his.

It makes me want to squirm. The fact that I’m able to sit so still, keep holding his gaze even when I feel a flush climbing my cheeks and a fluttery, panicked pinch in the center of my chest, is a freaking miracle.

It doesn’t last for long, though. My flush deepens under his continued inspection, and before I’m able to stop myself, I open my mouth to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Am I being fired?”

The question surprises him out of his study of me, and he shakes his head. “No, you’re not, Ms. Byrne. Unless you’ve done anything on your first day that merits dismissal?”

Is he… teasing me? No, that’s absolutely not it. Not when it’s still so damn weird that I’m here in the first place, and when he’s not smiling or giving me any indication this is a friendly chat.

It’s kind of bullshit, if I’m being honest. I didn’t do anything. He was the one who made it weird by singling me out in a crowded room. And now I’m the one being made to sit here and feel uncomfortable?

New-Kenna doesn’t like this. New-Kenna’s not going to be a damn doormat, even for a creature as powerful as Director Blair.

“Why am I here, then?”

Again, the absolute lack of filter seems to catch him off guard, and he frowns. He doesn’t answer me right away, though, not for a few long, painful seconds that I have to keep sitting here and internally squirming.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says finally. “For what happened at the all-hands meeting today.”

Alright, now we’re getting somewhere. I still want to hear him say it, though.

“What do you mean?”

A slight twinge of discomfort crosses his face. It’s the first time he’s looked anything but distant and aloof since I entered his office, and it gratifies the petty, irritated part of me to see it. If I’m going to feel awkward over this, then he should, too.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”

Well, that’s half an answer. “By staring at me, you mean?”

Another pinched expression. “Yes.”

“Why did you?”

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