Painted by the Dragon: MM Dragon Shifter Mpreg Romance (Dragons of Shifterverse Book 2) by Ariel Eaves

Author:Ariel Eaves [Eaves, Ariel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Ariel Eaves
Published: 2016-12-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EDDIE

“SO WHAT’S A hussar?”

“A light Hungarian cavalryman in the fifteenth century.”

“And there were gay ones?”

“Oh sure. But it’s not named after that. There’s an opera called The Gay Hussars.”

“Which is…”

“…also not about gay hussars. I can dress up as a gay hussar if you want.”

József gave me a salute and I laughed, trying to picture it. Not that I knew what a hussar actually looked like.

The Gay Hussar was a Hungarian restaurant in Soho, frequented by many politicians. József’s art class had just finished and it was nearby. Plus, as corny as it sounded, I wanted to know more about the culture he was from.

“So how was the class?” I asked, perusing the menu.

“Terrible, of course. The model this week paled in comparison to the last one.”

“What a shame! Sounds like they’ll have to call the other model back.”

“I hear he does private sessions. And has a tight little arse as well.”

“József! People might hear.”

Though looking around us, we seemed to be surrounded by nothing but sallow-faced businessmen, who paid no attention to us whatsoever.

The place had a quaint design, with tightly-stacked bookshelves at one end, a long row of tables next to one another, and mirrors reflecting a bevy of last-century photos, cartoons, and caricatures on the opposite wall. Not that I was paying much attention to any of that. Even without József’s dragon magic, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him.

“How was Jay?” I asked. “Did he flirt outrageously with the model?”

József paused and considered for a moment. “Not so much. He was a little more focussed. Maybe he’s trying to improve his craft.”

“I don’t think it’s that. He’s been a little off recently.”

“Oh?”

“He had a night that he couldn’t remember, shook him up quite a bit. You know it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s back at it again.”

József grinned and said nothing.

“All right. I can’t decide between the Töltött Káposzta and the Borjúpörkölt Galuskával.”

“Nice try,” he said, commenting on my pronunciation. “I recommend the töltött if you’ve never had it before.”

“Töltött it is.”

József motioned at a waiter and ordered our food and wine in fast Hungarian. It sounded easy when he spoke it, but somehow I didn’t think it was a language I’d ever master.

“So how are things going at Bulgari?”

He shrugged. “Same old.”

“Same old? You haven’t even been there a month.”

“Companies are mostly the same. A lot of paperwork. I make calls to foreign representatives and talk through deals with them. People ask my opinion on PR stuff. The usual.”

“Does Bulgari have a big presence in Hungary?”

“Mainly in Budapest. We have an outlet in a hotel there and we’re looking to open more.”

As he spoke he absent-mindedly looked at the room around me.

“Nice lights, aren’t they? Art deco, I think.”

He was hiding something from me, but I couldn’t figure out what on Earth it could be. Sure, his work was boring, but every time I asked about it he acted as if it was barely of any importance.

“I can’t focus on the light so much as how good you look in it.

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