Dragon VIP: Peridot (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 8) by Starla Night

Author:Starla Night [Night, Starla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Peridot held Karmel close.

She was sad.

He appreciated the quiet.

Because it helped him tamp down his fury.

This was a human affair. Dragons must not interfere. He must not hunt the crazed older female or challenge her to a fight. He must not shift into his dragon form and rend her into strips for daring to threaten his—

His what? Not mate. Karmel had not agreed to become his mate.

He had not asked.

And she did not look well. Now was not the right time.

Then what was Karmel? His friend? His confidante? His most desired female?

His?

Yes. She was his.

No one dared to threaten his.

Peridot flew to her lair. In the quiet, semi-residential neighborhood, hers was the top apartment in an old building. Colored bulbs twinkled in the windows.

He landed on the front steps.

She stepped back. Exhaustion mixed with an unusual look of defeat. She tugged her mischievous curls back in the chill wind. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

“I’ll see you in.”

She buzzed them in with her key. “Okay. You must be tired. I’m going to start baking.”

“I will help.”

“You’ve already saved me. Several times. You’ve more than done enough.” She pulled the door.

He rested his foot in the jamb. “Can I help?”

“I can’t ask you.” She thudded the door against his foot three times without seeming to realize the reason it didn’t close. “You don’t deserve to get stuck … stuck in … stuck in my…”

“…in your ‘bad planning’ bed?”

“Yeah.” She blinked and realized what was going on. Her chest rose and fell. “What?”

“I’m still hoping for an invitation.”

“You are? Seriously?”

He pushed the door open wider.

Her lush lips parted. Her pink tongue wet her lower lip. “Come in.”

He ensured the door was locked behind him.

Peridot would never have done this to Star Sapphire. He would never reveal his desires and make himself vulnerable.

For Karmel, he would risk.

Together, they crossed the huge, empty lobby.

A new briskness animated her movements. “Here’s where we’ll hold the cookie exchange.”

Their footprints shone in the dust. “You still need to clean.”

“Yeah.”

He added it to his internal task list.

“This building was once a community center,” Karmel said, “back in the seventies. The three upper floors were converted into apartments. The bottom floor was supposed to be converted into a restaurant but the landlord ran out of enthusiasm. There’s a bunch of weird propane tanks and commercial kitchen appliances rusting in the backyard.”

They took the elevator to the top floor. She unlocked her door and let him inside.

He had been here before with Syenite and Eva. Never just with Karmel.

Her lair was homey. A futon couch lounged in front of a small television. Art Deco chairs crowded the room. She removed her shoes, hung her coat on the door hook, and crossed her shaggy cream carpet.

Red, green, blue, and yellow lights danced around windows. A spindly Douglas fir grew in a white five-gallon bucket. A tree skirt flared from the base. Wrapped packages rested against the plastic.

“You decorated,” he said.

Her lips curved. “Don’t be silly. This is nothing.”

She trudged down the hall to her kitchen.

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