Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

Oh lord, he was serious.

Only a few moments ago, while they were making love, he had looked so intense, he almost set the air around him on fire, his eyes glowing like gold coins in the darkened office.

Now he looked intense for an entirely different reason, and just as sexy. His dark brows had lowered, and his face had hardened into his most stubborn expression.

Shaking her head, she hopped off the desk. “I don’t have time to argue with you about this,” she told him. “We already decided—it’s not worth antagonizing all the other people we have to live with on this continent over this one thing. You need to save all that obstinacy for times when you really do need to dig in your heels. If you’re going to pick your battles, Dragos, this one isn’t worth fighting.”

He said between his teeth, “I hate decisions by consensus.”

“I know,” she crooned. “You handle it so much better when you can be an absolute dictator, don’t you, honey? It’s been very hard on you since the planet has become so populated, and we’ve all had to learn to get along together sometimes.”

“Well,” he said, his tone truculent. “It has.”

Her shoulders shook. Gods, she adored every inch of his growly, autocratic self. “We’ve put it off long enough. Now I’ve really got to go.”

Reluctance clear in every line of his body, he stepped aside, and she made that dash for the half bath across the hall.

Once inside, she cleaned up, washed her face and hands, and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. A quick rap sounded on the door, then Dragos opened it to slip her clothes inside, and she dressed quickly. She hopped out of the bathroom again in two minutes flat.

He was waiting for her, still glowering, holding her coat in one hand. As she shrugged into it, his arms closed around her tightly in one last hug. For that one moment, she felt entirely enfolded and utterly safe.

Then he let her go, and together they stepped outside.

The rainy snow splattered them as Dragos opened the front passenger door of the Escalade that waited idling at the curb. Inside, Eva lounged in the driver’s seat, looking lazily amused and not at all surprised.

Pia turned to Dragos. Wet drops sprinkled his ink black hair.

“Do you have your next dose of medication?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ve got it in my purse. I triple-checked.”

“And I have the backup dose, just in case.”

When she had collapsed in D.C., they had found out that she was pregnant. They had also discovered that this would be their last child.

It had to be, as Pia’s body had developed lethal antibodies to fight off carrying Dragos’s children. Sometimes it happened, when two very different kinds of Wyr mated.

Dr. Medina had likened it somewhat to the human Rhesus factor, only unlike humans, who could prevent dangerous sensitization with an injection of Rh immunoglobulin, there was no way to prevent what had happened to Pia.

Once her body had turned that corner, nothing in modern medicine could turn the clock back again. Not even her own magical nature could save her. While she had extraordinary healing Powers, her body had grown to recognize the fetus as an intruder and was fighting to protect itself. She would miscarry any future pregnancies.

She would be able to carry this new, precious peanut to term, but only with the help of the drug protocol that Dr. Medina had developed for her, in the form of a shot she had to take every two weeks.

Uneasy at being so vulnerable and dependent, after the first two doses, both Pia and Dragos had insisted they learn to give her the shot in case Dr. Medina wasn’t available to administer it. Pia was due to have her next shot in two evenings.

Dragos touched her cheek gently with the callused tips of his fingers, lingering over the kiss. Then he pulled back and told her, “Have a good flight. I’ll see you soon. I’ll get in touch with you in the morning, after you’ve landed.”

She nodded and gave him a smile. “Sounds good. Talk to you in the morning.”

Eva put the car in gear while Dragos slammed the door.

As they drove away, Pia glanced back. Dragos never moved to go back inside. Instead, he stood watching her leave.

The next time they talked, it would be in secret in southern California. She watched him too, until his tall, dark figure and their glowing, inviting home faded into the darkness.

Only then did she turn to face the direction in which she was going. Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t put on her seat belt, and with a muttered curse, she yanked the belt around her body and jammed it into the buckle.

“Good job being all reasonable with his lordship, dumbass,” she muttered to herself. “If you’d only let him dig in his heels, you wouldn’t be making this trip right now.”

And to hell with the rest of the world.