Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Do you know anything about it?” I asked Blake.
“About the dagger, about CAP? Not really. My dad probably does, but I don’t have that kind of clearance.” Blake looked out the window. He looked stressed. His shoulders were held high as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. I didn’t like seeing him like this. We’d already had such a long day; I didn’t want the night to hurt him too.
I reached over and put a hand on his. He didn’t move it away. “I think we can wrap this dinner up.”
Warrick stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. “Yeah, I’m going to bed.”
“Same,” Robby said, standing with Damien.
I squeezed Blake’s hand. “Come, let’s go to the Dragon’s Den. We can unwind a bit.” I stood from the table. Blake didn’t ask too many questions. He rose with me and followed me out of the dining room. The rest of my family dispersed as they talked about next steps with each other.
Things were going to get complicated—as if they already weren’t—so taking some time to ourselves right now sounded like the best option.
“You okay?” I asked as we walked through the hall, passing underneath the mural of our rainbow flight.
Blake craned his neck to look at it as he answered me. “Yeah, as okay as I can be with knowing the world might come to an end.”
“It’s not going to,” I reassured him. “We can stop them.”
“I hope so.”
“We will.”
I hope.
I walked us down a wide hallway and stopped in front of an alcove holding a dragon statue. It was perched on a stone column with its wings pulled against it, the head looking over and appearing to stare directly into my eyes. Blake’s brows drew together as he looked from the statue to me.
“You do the honors,” I told him. I leaned in and whispered the password in Blake’s ear.
He cocked his head. I motioned to the statue. I noticed his cheeks had flushed bright red. He was so cute when he got flustered. Had that been from my breath against his ear? Because if so, I had a feeling my breath against some other parts of him would cause a full-on meltdown.
And I was inclined to make it happen.
Blake turned to the statue. “Take flight,” he said, sounding slightly confused.
The statue gave a small shudder before it began to spread its smooth gray wings. Blake took a few steps back, surprised as the statue started to turn, sinking into a hole in the floor. The solid stone wall behind it began to split open, rock grinding against rock. Behind it was a room washed in a flickering orange glow, the light spilling out into the hallway and shining on Blake’s face. His cheeks were still rosy pink, his lips slightly parted.
Fuck, was Blake a sexy man. Somehow, it was even sexier that he didn’t really know just how good he looked. I could tell Blake lacked confidence in himself, which was a deep shame. He had the looks to be a model. Sharp cheekbones, plump lips, breathtaking amber eyes, soft and wavy brown hair, a defined jawline. Beyond his looks, he also had a personality that drew people in like a magnet. He was a little awkward but in a charming way, one that made me want to laugh with him and fuck him senseless at the same time.
But there was also an invisible wall there that held me back. I had been sexually attracted to him from the moment I stepped into that White House dining hall and met him for the first time, but I certainly wasn’t going to push myself onto him. Especially not since I was hired to be his bodyguard. While it wasn’t against any code of conduct, it also wouldn’t have been the smartest or most moral move to make.
And then that kiss happened. It was game over from there. My fantasies blossomed like one of Warrick’s rare rosebushes. Blake began to consume most of my thoughts, especially the dirty ones.
“Can I go in?” Blake asked.
“Of course. I didn’t bring you here to stand outside,” I said with a wink.
He stepped in and gave a surprised gasp.
The Dragon’s Den was our very own speakeasy, tucked away near the back of the castle. It was a secluded spot made for complete relaxation. The room was dim, lit by a series of gas lamps that were responsible for the soft orange glow, making the black bar top shine as if it were under the permanent rays of a setting sun. Behind it was a mirrored wall where rows and rows of expensive liquors were held in bottles that were as much art as containers. I led us over to the bar and stepped behind it while Blake hopped onto one of the purple velvet stools.