Piper dropped to her knees beside the vent and listened to the sound of claws on metal. A soft thump came from the other side of the wall.
She looked up. She was sitting right outside Ash’s room. The dragonet had run straight to Daddy.
Unmoving, Piper contemplated the door. Ash was somewhere behind it. Was he asleep? What were the chances she could sneak in and retrieve the ring box without him noticing?
She considered it for half a second. Yeah, zero.
Before she could come up with a better plan, the door popped open. Framed in the threshold, Ash looked toward the sitting room. Then he glanced down, saw her sitting at his feet, and blinked.
Piper shot up, struggling to keep her gaze on his face. He wore a loose, sleeveless shirt that clung to the planes of his chest and left the sweep of heavy muscles on his arms bare, his fair skin flawlessly smooth in the shadows. The only other thing he wore was black cotton pants.
With a soft chirp, the dragonet hopped off the doorframe and landed on his shoulder, its golden eyes trained on Piper.
“What are you doing?” Ash asked, breaking the oh-so-awkward silence.
Piper shivered as his deep tones slid through her. How did his voice do that? Fear tickled her stomach, reminding her that she’d never been alone with him before.
Drawing herself up, she looked him square in the eye. “Your dragonet snuck into my room and stole something from me.”
His eyes held hers, and his gray irises dimmed to the color of storm clouds. Piper was abruptly aware of how dangerously close she was standing, barely a foot of space between their bodies. She was also aware of how much taller he was, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, and how his biceps were double the circumference of her arms.
The air felt hot and electric, the hallway darker than it’d been a moment before, and adrenaline flooded her bloodstream.
She was an idiot. Such an idiot.Her first love is fantasy, while fast-paced adventures and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it's not quite that bad) with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.
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This looks like the right book to read this time of year!
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