The Dragon's Wing (Kit Davenport #2)

“Why does this man want you so badly that he would defy me and go to my father with an offer of seven million dollars? Who is he to you?” The suspicious look he was giving me got my hackles up. For me, it was always a fine line between fear and anger, and more often than not I chose anger.

“I have no interest in telling you all the sordid details,” I hissed defensively. “But let me be perfectly clear when I say that he will not take me from here alive.”

He raised his eyebrows at my firm statement, tapping on his stubbled chin with his long fingers.

“You mean to tell me you'd kill yourself to avoid being in this man's possession?” His question was quiet but loaded with menace, and my breath caught.

“I mean,” I stated, steeling my spine and hardening my jaw, “that I would do whatever it took to try and kill him myself. If that meant I didn't make it out of this house alive, then so be it. But I will never, ever, be at his mercy again.”

He held my steady eye contact, as if assessing my level of commitment to that statement, then nodded carefully.

“It won't be an issue,” he said quietly. “I have someone coming to the party tonight that will help you return to your friends. Just hang in there a while longer, and for the love of God, please don't throw yourself out of any more windows.”

My jaw gaped open. “Sorry, what? I could have sworn you just said you're letting me go—”

“I am not letting you go, drag?; I am organizing your escape. It is very different for my reputation. Now, you will require a change of clothes for the party. Your escape will happen at midnight, so you'll have to play the part of demure arm-candy until them. Can you handle that?” A small smile twitched at his mouth.

“Why midnight? Why not sooner?” I demanded. Now that I knew there was a plan in place, I wanted it to happen now!

“Because it is the easiest time for you to slip out unnoticed with your escort. While everyone is doing the countdown and drinking and celebrating, the guards around my home will likely be paying less attention.” This time his lips pulled into a real smile. “You did know it was New Years Eve?”

No… no, I did not. But I supposed it made sense if his estimation of ten days since my kidnapping was correct. Instead of admitting that, I just nodded.

“I guess I should say thank you. But it still doesn't change the fact that you murdered a man.” I was determined to keep reminding myself of that fact so I would stop feeling any warm fuzzies towards this man who held me captive.

He just rolled his eyes, like I was being ridiculous, and stood. “Come on, drag?. Let's get you dressed for Romanul’s party.”





13





Back upstairs in the room I had woken in, there was an array of stunning evening gowns laid out across the bed with a frantic Elena pacing back and forth in her deadly stiletto heels. She was chewing at her fingernails and undoubtedly destroying her perfect manicure, and when I stepped back into the room, she let out a startled scream.

“There you are! How the hell did you get out without anyone seeing you? You have no idea how worried I was! If anyone had seen you…” Her rambling was cut short by Vali pushing into the room behind me.

“Oh good, Elena is here with dresses. Kit, go and shower or whatever it is you girls do to get ready. Just be quick about it; I can’t be late for my own party.” He totally ignored the gorgeous brunette staring at him with her mouth hanging open while he stalked to the bed and began inspecting the clothing options.

She blinked her wide eyes at him a couple of times, as if at a loss for words, then opened her mouth with a determined scowl. For some reason, witnessing their lovers’ quarrel was not high on my to-do list, so I took the opportunity to shut myself into the adjoining bathroom.

Vali had said the party started in an hour, but my hair was already washed and clean and I didn’t particularly care if I made him late, so ran myself a bath in the massive spa tub. While the water filled, I piled my hair up high to keep it dry, then loaded the water with a healthy dose of floral-scented bubble bath from the assortment of products on the window ledge. The bath was an impressive, comfortable thing, sitting eye level with the window to offer a stunning view over the desert below, and once I had made myself comfortable in the warm water, it was so relaxing that my lids began drooping. Surely a quick nap wouldn’t hurt… just to soak some tension out…



When I woke, I was still in the bath, but the bubbles smelled like jasmine and the window offered a very different view. Was I back at the guys’ house?

Blinking my sleepy eyes a couple of times, I rubbed them with a wet hand and looked around. I was definitely in Wesley’s bathroom. How the hell had that happened?

“Kit, is it safe to come in?” Wesley’s voice called through the cracked door, startling the hell out of me.

“Is it, um, yes?” I’m so confused.

“Oh good,” he replied, coming into the bathroom with his hands tucked inside the deep pockets of his oversized hoody. “I know it’s only a dream, but it still doesn’t seem right to barge in on you naked, you know?”

“A dream?” I repeated, frowning at him as he took up his spot beside the bath where he had sat several times before to chat while I soaked. “Is that what this is? A dream?”

“Of course it is, silly. You were kidnapped, remember? And we still haven’t found you…” he trailed off, his shoulders drooping so low that I wanted to leap out of the tub and hug him. But this dream felt really real, and modesty kept me seated beneath the bubbles.

“Hey,” I coaxed. “Don’t give me that look. I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Besides, this is a dream, so shouldn’t we be pretending none of that bad shit exists?” Why was I trying to make dream-Wesley feel better? If this was a dream, which seemed like the most logical explanation, then he was a figment of my imagination. Maybe it was my own guilty conscience manifesting as him. Dreams were weird.

Just to test the theory that this was a dream, I shut my eyes and focused hard to make something impossible happen. When I opened them again, Wesley had disappeared from his spot on the bathroom floor and rematerialized at the opposite end of the tub from me, still fully clothed.

“Hey!” he yelled, splashing around a bit and looking bewildered. “What the hell, Kit?”

A grin spread across my face as I shrugged. “What? You said it was a dream, so I thought I’d test the bounds of the imagination. You should take some layers off, though; it can’t be comfortable to bathe in clothing.” I gave him a playful wink but was dying to see where my dream would go on this one. Real-life Wesley would never strip down and take a bath with me, but dream-Wesley might…

The naughty smirk he gave me was exactly true to my imagination as he took off his glasses, setting them on the window ledge, then whipped off his soaking hoody and T-shirt all in one go.

Holy shit, who would have guessed a body like that was hiding under all that loose clothing? I chuckled, I guess I did. Kudos to my subconscious for coming up with this one…