Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

When he came to Rodeo Drive, he waited for a lull in the traffic. He didn’t have to wait long—traffic was unusually sparse for such a popular area. Then he dropped down and shapeshifted as he landed. Still cloaking tightly, he strolled down one of the most luxurious shopping districts in the world until he reached Van Cleef & Arpels. After admiring the jewels in the showcase, he strolled down the street to the next jewelry store.

He stopped at a few other jewelry stores, admired Cartier’s display, then he came to a uniquely Elder Races jewelry store named Songs of Fire.

He had only intended to window-shop, until he laid eyes on the firebird.

It was a necklace, very high-end jewelry, the kind of showpiece that would sell very rarely and only to a relatively select clientele. After just a brief glance, he knew the cost must be in the high six figures, if not seven.

The body of the bird rested at the hollow of the mannequin’s throat. Made of fiery diamonds and rubies, it was easily as long as his thumb. The bird’s eye was an emerald the size of his thumbnail. The wings swept up on either side of the mannequin’s neck, tapering off gracefully so that the tips came together at the nape.

He loved having Pia as his mate for many reasons. She was sexy, and funny, and smart and wise, and far kinder than he. She curbed his worst impulses, as much as he would let her, and having sex with her was so smoking hot, they burned up the air around them when they coupled.

And one of the things the dragon loved best was to buy his mate jewelry.

Because she was his.

So when he gave her jewels to wear, they were his as well. All his, forever.

He loved to fuck her when she was wearing diamonds and nothing else. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous when she wore jewels, all lush and naked, delicately pink in all the most private places, and sparkling bright. Pia was the crown jewel in the dragon’s hoard.

He struggled with his impulses, briefly, while part of him knew it had been a foregone conclusion as soon as he had laid eyes on the firebird.

After a moment, glancing left and right, he waited until passersby on the street were either walking or looking away. Then he let his cloaking fall away, opened the door and walked inside.

It was barely after ten o’clock, so the store had just opened for the day, and he was the only customer.

Good. He liked it that way.

As a tall, model-slim woman hurried into the store from the back, he said, “I would like for you to lock your doors while I’m here. As I plan on making at least one significant purchase, it will be worth your while.”

The woman was Light Fae and beautiful, with long, thoroughbred bones, skillful makeup and designer clothes. She also looked tense and unhappy. “I’m sorry, it’s against company policy to lock the doors during store hours.”

Dragos paused. It was highly unusual for people to tell him no, and it was never an experience he appreciated. Cocking his head, he drew his brows together and asked, “Do you realize who I am?”

The woman looked at him, “Should I? Oh … oh, wait. Are you Lord Cuelebre?”

“Yes, I am, and I’m here in private shopping for my wife.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “I expect you to be discreet about my presence here.”

“Sure, of course,” she said, waving a hand in dismissal of the subject. “We’re always discreet.”

Again, he had to pause. He was a jewelry store’s wet dream. Managers bolted out of hiding to fawn over him. They had involved and passionate discussions about clarity and cut, quality grades and light.

This woman’s preoccupied attitude was not normal.

He persisted. “And you’ll lock the door while I’m here?”

“Oh yes, of course.” She stepped around the end of one counter to walk toward the door and lock it. As she did so, she sighed. “What is it you would like to see?”

His short amount of patience was evaporating rapidly.

“I wanted to examine the firebird necklace you have on display,” he told her, his tone short. “Along with the accessory pieces, but is this a bad time?”

“Excuse me?”

For the first time since he had entered the shop, she looked at him directly. He noted the shadows under her eyes. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot. His attention snagged by the small details, he took a step forward and caught a whiff of her scent.

She was not merely preoccupied and unhappy. She was quite distressed.

He sighed. The dragon didn’t care if the woman was having a bad day. All he wanted to do was ignore her, examine the necklace more closely and make a buy decision.

Actually, what he would have liked to do was just steal the damn thing and be done with it, but he had started out in a leisurely, aboveboard fashion, and now the store’s security system would have a record of his presence. And security recordings in jewelry stores were never stored on site, not with so many potential and extremely talented thieves scattered throughout the Elder Races.

In social situations like this, he had taken to asking himself WWPD? (What Would Pia Do?)