Page 21 of Bewitching the Dragon
“I don’t think it’s insignificant at all,” Rahu said.
“Good. Show them where you saw those Rojo dragons. See if you all can track them. I know they were initially working for Delilah, but I’d bet money they’ve sided with Darius now. At the very least, we can question them, see if we can find out what they intended to do with Becca. And once that’s done, go convince Becca to move in here. I’ll have Maria prepare a room for her. Anything in particular that will make her feel welcome?”
“All I know is she loves ham and pineapple pizza and she hates gargoyles.” The last he said deliberately for Argyle’s sake.
And then he felt like shit when the poor gargoyle’s face fell. But before he could work out something to say to ease the sting, Ketu grabbed his arm.
“Let’s go,” his friend said, and Rahu allowed him to lead him out of the room.
Now, he just had to figure out how to convince Becca she wanted to move into the reeve’s mansion.
No problem, his dragon said with a snort.
That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?
Yep.
***
Rahu stood on the porch, a steaming pizza balanced on one hand while the other held a bottle of rosé nestled in a paper bag. He didn’t know shit about wine, but Antoinette used to be a bartender before she became reeve of the Rojo dragons. And although, like everyone else in his life at the moment, she was opposed to him getting to know Becca a little better, she’d still given him advice on a decent bottle of wine to drink with pizza.
He was here only to protect Becca and to invite her to move into Antoinette and Ketu’s mansion. Nothing else.
But his dragon laughed at him, and Rahu knew the beast was right. There was something between him and Becca, something different from anything he’d experienced before with either a dragon or human. He didn’t understand it, not fully, but whatever it was, he wanted to explore it in more depth, get to know her better. Yes, on a physical level.
Oh gods, yes.
Becca opened the door and smiled at him.
“Hey,” he said. “You look nice.”
She glanced down at her white capris and yellow-and-white striped, boatneck shirt. “Thanks. So do you.”
He wore his nicest pair of jeans and the only dress shirt he’d brought with him from Detroit, and damned if this didn’t feel like a date. Which it was, right?
“Come on in to the kitchen,” she said, holding the door open. When she turned, he nearly tripped over his own feet because he was so busy staring at her ass as it sashayed in those seriously hot white pants.
He placed the pizza box on the kitchen counter.
“What did you get?”
“Ham and pineapple, of course.”
She clapped her hands. “Oh, man, I could kiss you right now!”
With the wine still in one hand, he spread his arms wide and said, “What’s stopping you?”
A slow smile curved her lips, and she stepped closer. “Nothing, actually.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted onto her tiptoes.
“Good news. I think the leak is fixed.”
Rahu jerked away from Becca and damn near dropped the bottle. He whirled around and glared at Argyle as he stepped into the kitchen wearing a navy-blue button-down work shirt and carrying a giant wrench.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” Becca demanded, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, not appearing the least bit frightened that the large, dark, stone-like man had made an unannounced appearance in her kitchen.
Argyle seemed flustered by her question, or maybe, just maybe, it was being this close to his daughter for the first time while he was in human form. He’d told Rahu that other than as a stone statue protecting her while she slept, he’d had precious little contact with her over the years.
Some father.
