Page 19 of Deven and the Dragon
Lord Fiora was more oddly beautiful than handsome, taken all together — until you got to his mouth.
Fucking God, that mouth. Deven knew there were other bits he’d like to sneak a look at, like the curve of Lord Fiora’s throat, or the shape of his body now that it wasn’t swathed in heavy black, but Lord Fiora’s mouth really stole the show. Maybe he wore that hood because he knew no one would get anything done, ever, if they had his lips to look at?
“Stop staring at me,” Lord Fiora snapped, lifting his chin. His eyes glittered in the light of the rising moon.
“Sorry,” Deven said softly. “You did say I could.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to!” It came out almost like a wail.
Deven’s heart clenched. He wanted to soothe and flatter — not because it would get him what he wanted, but justbecause, an instinctive protective urge Deven wished he could expunge. Did Lord Fiora really believe that? He was delusional. Well, what else should Deven have expected from someone who wanted to spend his evenings sulking alone in the dark rather than drinking wine and laughing in company?
No, no flattery. And no soothing, no matter how much he wanted to. As touchy as Lord Fiora was, that would send him running. If Deven seemed like he was completely honest, and totally tactless, it would get under Lord Fiora’s guard when he did start to flatter. It worked with the young ladies who came to the inn for a glass of wine, anyway. Deven forced down a miserable little burst of shame. Fuck it. Everything in his arsenal.
“You’re blue,” Deven said bluntly. “Slightly blue, anyway. You don’t look entirely human —”
Lord Fiora jumped to his feet, shoving off from the wall and making a break for it.
“Wait!” Deven cried, scrambling after him. He overtook Lord Fiora at the door to the stairwell and flung himself in front of him, blocking the opening. It was just like the other night, except that this time, Lord Fiora had nowhere to go. Well, unless he flew away, of course, bugger it. “Wait, please. I hadn’t finished —”
“You’ve said enough. More than enough. I’m blue. Yes, I bloody wellknowI’m blue, I’ve been blue my whole life, and I own a mirror! Several, even! I have strange eyes, and strange skin, and I don’t look human at all, and humans always think I’m some kind of — ofspectacle. Thank you so very much for pointing it out, yet again!”
Lord Fiora broke off, his chest heaving, panting for breath, his eyes flashing and his lips parted.
Deven’s hands twitched, but he restrained himself, barely. Seizing Lord Fiora around the waist and kissing the remaining breath out of himwas notthe way to proceed here.
“It was the obvious thing,” Deven protested. “I mean, the only thing I could think of that might make you want to hide under a hood. Not because there’s anything wrong with it,” he went on, raising his voice over Lord Fiora’s angry protests, “but because you seem to think I’d think there was.” He stopped, a little lost. “Right. That’s what you think. But I don’t think that. Oh, buggering hell.”
One corner of that perfect mouth twitched, just a little. “You sound like an idiot.”
“Probably because I am one,” Deven said. “Seriously. Ask my aunt. Or my uncle. Or anyone who knows me. Look, I was just trying to say that — you aren’t human. So why would anyone be surprised that you look like a dragon? What the hell’s wrong with looking like a dragon? Who’s to say being pink or brown is any better than being light blue? Or lavender. You turn lavender when you’re flushed.”
“I know,” Lord Fiora said, as his cheeks gave a demonstration. He looked less like he was about to go for Deven’s throat with his teeth, too.
“If that’s all you were trying to hide, then you shouldn’t. Fuck anyone who doesn’t like the way you look. That’s my philosophy, anyway.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lord Fiora muttered. What now? Did that mean what Deven thought it meant? He’d been desperately trying to ignore his cock, but it thickened a little, showing its own gratitude for Lord Fiora’s compliment. Lord Fiora hurried on with, “But that’s — it doesn’t matter. I don’t like to be gawked at. I prefer the darkness anyway, and —”
“My lord! Mr. Clifton! What is this?” Deven spun around, and there behind him was Andrei, his bald head red and shiny from exertion, and his eyes snapping with a cold rage Deven hadn’t thought he’d be capable of.
Shit. He’d been so close. So much for his plan. He hadn’t nearly won Lord Fiora over yet, and he’d been hoping for at least another half hour to talk him round.
He’d be lucky if he didn’t get thrown down the hill tied up in the same filthy sack as the rabbits.
Chapter Nine
Fiora had to peekaround Deven’s broad back to get a look at Andrei, and what he saw wasn’t encouraging. Andrei looked ready to commit murder.
Damn Andrei anyway. Damn him for turning up right at that moment, just as Fiora thought he might be able to graciously allow Deven to persuade him into forgiving him. More to the point, just as Fiora thought Deven might become even more complimentary in pursuit of that forgiveness.
“Andrei, calm down,” Fiora said, sidestepping around Deven. “Everything’s fine.”
“It is far from fine,” Andrei ground out. “My lord, I will send to the council at once telling them Mr. Clifton will be returning to Ridley this very night —”
Deven said hotly, “No, I damn well won’t —”
And that wasenough. “I am the master of this castle,” Fiora said, lowering his voice to its most commanding pitch. “Both of you, shut up!”
Deven spun to stare at him, and Andrei gaped. Fiora drew himself up to his full height, making him only noticeably much shorter than the other two, rather than ridiculously so. It was better than nothing.
