Page 47 of Deven and the Dragon
Lunch, his parents, and the rest of the world could wait.
Chapter Twenty-One
“It won’t beso bad,” Deven said bracingly as they made their way down the stairs. Fiora’s parents were holy terrors, certainly, but they weren’t really going to eat their only son’s lover — although if he walked into the dining room and found no meat on the table and the two elder dragons in their dragon bodies, Deven was going to run for it, his manly reputation be damned. “How bad can it be? They’re not happy, but believe me, they were a lot less happy last night. You looked better and better as you slept, and by early morning they’d relaxed a lot. Your mother only threatened to kill me twice between four and when they went downstairs for tea.”
Fiora’s hand tightened on Deven’s arm, and he frowned. “And now that they’re less worried, they’ll be free to focus on anger and threats,” Fiora said with a sigh. “You don’t know them the way I do. It’s going to be exhausting.”
Carefully helping Fiora around a sharp bend in the staircase — because while hewasbetter, he was bloody well going to let Deven take care of him for a while — Deven said, “They won’t threaten you, they’ll threaten me. And frankly, I deserve it, and I can take it. Don’t worry about me.”
Fiora shot him a worried look from under his eyelashes. Oh, fuck, Fiora’s eyelashes. And his eyes. And his lips. And the rest of him. Deven lost himself in replaying the best parts of their bath, and only snapped back to reality on, “…afraid you’ll decide I’m not worth it. Deven, are you even listening to me?”
“Yes,” Deven lied. And then, “No,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.” He was never going to lie to Fiora again, dammit. Not even about something like this. “I was thinking about making love to you and lost the plot.”
“I suppose you didn’t sleep at all last night,” Fiora said grudgingly. “And I am very distracting. But did you hear any of it at all?”
“I didn’t sleep because I was devotedly sitting by your bedside holding your hand and gazing at your beautiful face,” Deven reminded him helpfully. Fiora grunted and turned away to hide his smile. Deven knew he was forgiven. “And I heard the important part. You’re worth anything at all, even lunch with your mother, and I’m not going anywhere, unless they actually try to make me the main course, and then I’ll hide out by the river for a few days and come back and sneak in through the kitchen.”
Fiora was laughing as they came around the corner and into the main hall. Deven was laughing too — but the laughter died on his lips as he saw his aunt and uncle stepping through the front doors at the other end of the hall, escorted by a harried-looking Andrei.
“Oh, buggering fuck,” he whispered.
They stopped dead, staring at the tableau. Lady Ana and Lord Luca stood in the dining-room door halfway down the hall, draped in bright silks in a variety of colors — and God only knew what his aunt would think of that. At least the dragons were clothed.
Phina and George were wearing their best, as befitted visiting a dragon’s castle, but they looked drab and shabby next to their counterparts. Phina would be embarrassed. And fuck, Fiora hadn’t even met them yet.
Deven remembered shouting to his aunt that he’d be back later.
Well, apparently later had come and gone. Fuck.
“It won’t be so bad,” Fiora crooned, imitating Deven’s voice. Badly, too, the little bastard. Deven didnotsound like that. “How bad can it be? Deven? Hmm?”
“I hate you almost as much as I love you right now.”
Fiora patted his arm. “I don’t believe you.”
“You’re right,” Deven grumbled, and he took a deep breath, pulling Fiora along down the hall. “Aunt Phina, Uncle George,” he called. “What are you doing here?”
Five heads swiveled in unison, and all five pairs of eyes were glaring in lesser or greater measure. “What am I doing here?” Phina demanded. “What am Idoinghere? You ran off yesterday as if you were being chased by a pack of rabid wolves, didn’t send word, and didn’t come back. Where else do you think I’d be?”
“At home minding your own — Phina, I’m sorry,” Deven corrected himself quickly. “Fiora wasn’t well. I’d have sent you a note this afternoon.”
Lord Luca was starting to chuckle, damn him, and Lady Ana was looking…interested. “These must be your aunt and uncle, Mr. Clifton,” she said. “I see they are also not so pleased with you.”
Phina looked to Lady Ana, frowning. “Alsonot so pleased? What has he done now?”
“Aunt Phina —”
“Thank you so much for calling on me,” Fiora put in — loudly. He tugged Deven forward, lifting his chin and instantly transforming, to Deven’s amazement and slight arousal, from Deven’s teasing lover into the lord of the manor. “I am honored to meet Deven’s family.”
Phina tore her eyes away from Lady Ana. “Likewise,” she said after a moment. “I mean, thank you.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur. At Fiora’s not-so-subtly hissed prompt of, “Well, Deven?” he introduced his aunt and uncle. Fiora smiled and shook their hands and made George laugh. Fiora’s parents glowered at Deven, but they were as courteous to his family as if they’d been a duke and duchess.
Andrei had made himself scarce, but he reappeared a few moments later and announced lunch, just as though Deven’s aunt and uncle had been expected guests. They all trailed into the dining room after him.
Lady Ana swept to the head of the table as if no one could doubt her right to it, her many layers of silk rustling, and Lord Luca caught Fiora by the sleeve, separating him from Deven and pulling him into a seat beside Lord Luca’s own place at the foot. Andrei chivvied Deven down the other side of the table before he could protest. This left Deven beside Lady Ana, to his horror, with Fiora across from him and all the way at the other end by his father. Phina and George were across from Deven and Andrei.
Fred and another footman brought in a ham and a great many salads, plates were filled, and then a strange silence fell. Fiora was staring at his plate and toying with a bit of cucumber. Well, there wouldn’t be any help there. Apparently he’d used up his courage in the hall. Deven dared to take a bite of ham. He was starving.
