The others scattered. Rune and Graydon followed him as he went back upstairs. He stalked down the hall, still brooding, while they shadowed him on either side. He came to Pia’s door where Bayne and Constantine lounged against the wall, talking. The two men straightened at their approach.
“Fill them in,” he told Rune, who nodded. The dragon still roused, he regarded them all. The gryphons watched him with attentive, quiet faces. He said, “Let me make this perfectly clear. Just so there’s no mistake. We’ve worked well together for almost a thousand years. You have all come to mean a lot to me. I treasure your service and I prize your loyalty above all others.” He looked at Rune. “I count you as my best friend.”
They all stood taller as he talked. He pointed at the door. “Thief or not, she is mine and I’m keeping her. If a single hair on that young woman’s head is harmed, you four bastards better be slaughtered and in pieces when I find you.”
Rune’s steady gaze met his. “You needn’t worry, my lord,” the gryphon said. “We’ll guard her with our lives. I swear it.”
Tired as she was and in spite of the comfort of the bed, Pia tossed and turned, unable to settle into a deep sleep. She dreamed of being chased. The scenes kept changing. First she was crawling through the secret ways of a huge house, trying to find someplace to hide. Next she was weaving in and out of a crowded, unfamiliar city street while someone menacing followed behind her. She could never quite see her pursuer’s face, but he terrified the hell out of her.
Then someone lifted the bedcovers. A large, damp, naked male slid into the bed beside her. She startled, coming awake with a violent jerk.
“Shh, it’s me,” Dragos whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“S’okay,” she murmured. “Didn’t like that dream anyway.”
There was a reason why it wasn’t such a good idea for him to be in her bed. Or was she in his? She wasn’t awake enough to grasp any of it. She was just awake enough to feel a rush of pleasure and relief.
His arms came around her. She made a noise and burrowed into his side. His warmth and energy enveloped her. She put her cheek to his shoulder, against the damp, clean-smelling skin that covered hard, bulky muscle like silk, and rested a hand on his chest.
“Did you like your supper?” he asked.
“Lovely.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Take the spell off.”
“Sleepy,” she complained.
He stroked her hair. “Please?”
She muttered, fumbled to get hold of the dampening spell and released it.
His wide chest moved in a deep sigh. “That’s better.”
“Shh,” she scolded. She turned on her side. He wrapped his body around her. Her check rested on one bulging biceps while he curled his other arm around her torso. He pinned her legs with one heavy thigh. She cast a sleep-blurred glance down at their entwined bodies. The pale glow of her form was caged in possessive, dark bronze male. It was a jealous, suffocating hold. She should want to break free of it. She sighed. Something deep inside settled into place and she closed her eyes, content.
This time when she fell asleep there were no more dreams.
Along, restful time later something brought her out of deep unconsciousness. She drifted for a while in a twilight state. A large hand played down the front of her torso. Gentle fingers trailed from her flat stomach up her rib cage to circle first one breast and then the other.
She sighed and stretched. She turned onto her back as she arced toward that roaming, pleasurable touch. Lips brushed against her bare shoulder, caressed up the graceful curve to her neck. Teeth scraped against sensitive skin and nipped at her earlobe.
Bare shoulder? She opened her eyes. It was shocking all over again to lie naked with him. She rubbed a foot on his leg, crisp hairs tickling her toes. Predawn bloomed outside and brought the room to a light gray. Dragos rested his weight on one arm as he leaned over her. His severe face was intent as he studied her with a heavy-lidded gaze. The etched line of his mouth was curved in a lazy, sensual smile.
He was so gorgeous her whole body throbbed. His fine-cut nostrils flared and she knew he had sensed it.
She licked her lips. His gaze dropped and he watched the movement. “I’m quite sure I went to bed with clothes on,” she murmured.
“So you did,” he said, his tone languorous. He circled the areola of one breast. She watched him swallow as her nipple puckered. “I found them in the way.”
“You undressed me while I was sleeping?” She shivered as he circled the areola of her other breast. “I must have been pretty out of it.”
“I might have helped you along.” She arched a brow at him. He told her, “It was just a little beguilement. You needed to rest.”
“Without my clothes.” There he went, messing with her head again. Making note to self: they’ve got to discuss how she was not his personal Barbie doll to dress and undress whenever he felt like it.
“I needed to rest too,” he said in a bland voice. “And they were bothering me.”