In an instant, he was hard again and aching for her. It was hard to believe he had just taken her so many times on the plane. The mating frenzy was the only thing that had ever held him in its grip for long.
If it was a prison, it was one he didn’t want to leave. He relished its claws digging underneath his skin, driving him to extremes. But they wouldn’t have time now to succumb to another bout of lovemaking until after the evening’s function.
Forcing the urge back, he exhaled on a long, steady breath.
Pia’s fingers tightened on his thigh. Either she could scent the mating pheromones, or she had been eyeing his crotch.
He looked at her. Her gaze was down and directed sidelong. She was watching his crotch, and a rose blush stained her pale cheeks. She raised her gaze to look at him, biting her lip. She was as much a prisoner of the mating frenzy as he was, and she looked helpless with desire.
Fuck yeah.
He loved it when she was helpless and begging for his touch.
“Jeebus,” muttered Eva. “Gettin’ hot in here.” She rolled down her window and fresh air swirled into the car. “Thank the gods we’re almost there.”
In short order, he turned onto Massachusetts Avenue. He glanced at Pia again as they approached the section known as Embassy Row, where embassies, diplomatic missions and other representations were concentrated.
The mansions grew larger, older and grander, and the rows of town houses became more spacious. When he pulled through the front gates of the Wyr mansion, her eyes went round.
She whispered, “This is ours?”
“This is ours,” he said. “It’s been the Wyr residence in Washington since 1895.”
As he parked under the portico, the front doors opened, and two uniformed Wyr came briskly down the steps. Behind them, the gates quietly closed.
She unbuckled her seat belt as she craned to stare up at the roof, as she asked, “How many rooms does it have?
“Eight bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, all modernized,” he told her. “Dining room, library, etc.”
“Along with a very modern home theater, bowling alley, and a wine cellar in the basement,” Eva added. “There’s a black, wrought iron railing that runs up both sides of a marble staircase. You should see the house lit up at night. I took a walk through the neighborhood last night. It’s all white marble and light. Very elegant.”
The property also had tunnels that ran several blocks underground in different directions before leading to innocuous-looking openings—street gutters, the sewage system with manholes and the like.
Nobody would trap the Wyr in this place. In case of emergency, those who couldn’t fly could still get out. He always liked to lay contingency plans, especially in places that could be less than friendly.
Once the car had stopped moving, Eva stepped out to direct the guards to the rear of the SUV, where they pulled out luggage and carried it inside.
Pia squinted at Dragos. “You almost never come here. It’s got to be a hellacious expense to keep this property maintained.”
He inclined his head in agreement. “When I come here, I come as a world-class power. Washington does well to remember that. One of the ways I choose to remind them of that fact is by maintaining this residence.”
“I guess keeping one of the town houses wouldn’t carry the same impact, even though I’m sure they’re just as spectacular in their own way.”
“Also, I would never share walls with someone else. It leaves one too vulnerable.” He stepped out of the vehicle, his sharp predator’s gaze studying the surroundings outside the black iron fence.
He knew watchers were stationed on the residence, both human and other. He might have carefully cultivated allies among humankind, but he had no true friends here. Humankind was as wary of the dragon as any of the Elder Races. Many of the watchers would be unfriendly, but none of them were visible.