Chapter 3

Sloane read the text Wendy had sent her again. That scary guy you were eye-fucking at Cuppa Joe’s says he’s sorry, and he wants you to meet him at Collassaco’s at eight.

Before she could respond, her cell pinged again. He says things aren’t always as they seem. I think you should give him a chance to explain. For what it’s worth, he looked like he was sorry.

She stared at her phone. After the way he had treated her, Mateo wanted her to meet him for dinner? Did he think she’d go out with him if he were involved with someone already? Being her mate wasn’t the point. He’d chosen. It stung, but she wasn’t anyone’s mistress. She wouldn’t tolerate it. Ever. But then again, she had no proof that the woman was his lover. The jealous rage that had surged inside her at seeing them together had nothing to do with knowledge and everything to do with her dragon’s temper.

She groaned. Mateo had tried to get her to go outside with him. Had he not been at least a little interested, he wouldn’t have done that, would he? The fact that he’d taken the woman in his arms in public didn’t mean a thing. Nor did it matter that he’d smiled at that woman, and not her. Not really. Hadn’t she hugged men she wasn’t sexually attracted to before? Smiled at an acquaintance? Of course, she had.

Okay, she shook off the fury still making her hands unsteady. She wasn’t going to be that woman—the one who judged a man without knowing the full story.

What she needed was a new dress. And shoes. “Change of plans. I need to go shopping,” she told the cabbie, giving him directions to her favorite store before sitting back.

She’d meet Mateo for dinner. Maybe he had a reasonable explanation for being a jerk and then hugging the blonde bimbo. And if he didn’t, she’d show him exactly what it was he was passing up on.

Hours later, Sloane sauntered into the Italian eatery with a smile on her face and her head held high.

“Do you have a reservation, miss?” the Maître D asked her when she arrived at the reception area.

“I’m not entirely sure. I’m here to meet with Mateo…” She didn’t even know the man’s last name. Her cheeks heated.

“Ah yes, Mr. Guerra called earlier. Your table is ready.” He walked her past a line of waiting customers to a table set for two with a candle burning in the center in a darkened corner of the room. “My name is Antonio. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your dining experience more enjoyable,” he said as he pulled her chair and assisted her to her seat.

Mateo wasn’t there yet, but that was fine. It would give her a moment to collect her thoughts. Just the idea of spending time with the man who had left her dragon restless all afternoon was making her more than a little anxious. When the sommelier came and offered her a glass of wine, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a small one before dinner. Maybe it would even help settle the butterflies in her stomach.

By the time she’d finished the first glass, her smile slipped. It was twenty minutes past eight. A couple of minutes late wasn’t a big deal, but Mateo was closing in on a half hour. She’d been an idiot to think the man had any class at all. He’d stood her up. The bastard. When the sommelier came to refill her glass, she shook her head. “No, thank you. If I could have the check please?”

“Of course, Miss,” he said, the pity shining in his eyes making her cheeks heat.

Sloane took deep breaths, letting her anger cool. Rather than hail a cab when she got out, she turned left. The sun was setting, but it was still warm enough to walk without a jacket. She’d burn off some steam and find a place to grab a bite before heading home. There was no way in hell she was going to sit at that fancy restaurant and eat by herself.

Grabbing her phone out of her purse, she turned the ringer back on. No point in leaving it off if she wasn’t on a date. Seven missed calls? What the hell? Other than Wendy, who always texted, and her sister, Jasmine, who was most likely fast asleep in Europe, her phone never rang.

When it started ringing again, she jumped. No number showed up on her screen. She let it sound twice before her curiosity got the best of her. “Hello.”

“Sloane, this is Mateo, you have to listen to me—”

“No, Mateo, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have to listen to you. Not even for one second.” She ended the call and started walking again. The quick clicks of her new heels sounded loud on the sidewalk. She didn’t even care where she went at that point. She just needed to get away from the restaurant. Of all the nerve. And how the hell had he gotten her number?

She’d barely taken ten steps when the phone rang again. She didn’t breathe until it went to voicemail.

Ping. She rolled her eyes. Was he texting her now? If he didn’t stop, she’d have to change her number, and that would piss her off.

This is an emergency. Please pick up. Right. An emergency. Like she’d believe that one. A moment later, the phone started again. She let it ring, but then guilt washed over her. He’d tried calling seven times. It wasn’t his fault she’d turned her ringer off for their date. What if he was hurt? She swiped her finger across the screen.

***

When Alexandra showed him the list of potential hits she’d accumulated, his heart had all but exploded from his chest. There were at least two dozen dragons on there, each of them with addresses for both home and work right next to them. As much as seeing even one name listed enraged him, it was the one fourth from the top with a red line struck through it that had him weaving through traffic like a demon out of hell. Sloane Appleton. He’d asked Alexandra why the four at the top had been struck through, and she’d laughed.

“Because they’re no longer available,” she explained. “They’ve already been chosen, so to speak.”

In that instant, it had taken all his power not to kill the woman right there in the coffee shop. Once the meeting wrapped up, he started looking people up, the first being Sloane Appleton. His mate hadn’t given him her last name, but his gut told him he was right. A quick search on the number that corresponded to Wendy’s text, and he had all the confirmation he’d needed.

Why the fuck wasn’t she answering her phone?

Because she thinks you’re an asshole, his dragon supplied for him. You made her mad. Now she hates us.

Better she hate us than be dead, he retorted. The dragon growled.

Traffic slowed and then stopped. Mateo slammed his hands against the steering wheel. What the hell was the hold up? As soon as he saw the flashing lights ahead, he turned off the engine and got out. He was only a few blocks away from Collassaco’s. If she was in the area, he could still get to her. He hit redial as he ran. The evening crowd was thinning. In the light of day, it would be hard to grab a woman off the street without being noticed, at least harder than it would be after dusk. “Come on, answer the phone,” he growled into his cell as though his command would bend her will through space and time. The phone rang and rang. He was about to hang up and hit redial when she finally picked up the call.

“You’d better not be messing with me,” Sloane answered, her voice as frigid as the Arctic.

“You’re in danger. Hunters are in the area. Where are you? I’ll come to you.” He didn’t want to scare her, but he had to get as much information across as he could in case she hung up again.

“What are you talking about? There are no hunters in the city.”

“There are, and you’re the target. Damn it, Sloane, where are you?”

“You don’t have to yell. I can hear you just fine.” She paused for a second. “I’m walking toward University Avenue.”

“Good. Are you still on Fifth? How far are you from University? There’s a dragon-friendly hotel there.”

“I’m almost there,” she said with a bit of a shaky voice.

He rounded a corner, plowing straight into a man in a suit, sending his briefcase clattering on the ground and the papers inside flying into the air. “Sorry,” he said over his shoulder, but he kept running. He could see the hotel. She was rushing with her head down, trying to blend in with the crowd, but with that brilliant head of red hair of hers, she’d stand out no matter what she did. “I’m just up the road. Go in. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Her head snapped up, and she scanned the street for him. When she spotted him running toward her, she hesitated but then followed his orders and ducked inside. He didn’t bother speaking over the phone again.

When he reached the hotel, she was standing in the lobby, staring at the door. People milled all around, but no one came close to her. Good. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent as he came up to her. “Are you okay?” He looked her up and down, assessing for injury before taking her elbow and leading her to the reception desk.

“I’m fine. This better not be your idea of a joke,” Sloane told him, but even as she said the words, she scanned the immediate area for threats.

“It’s not. Let’s get settled in, and I’ll explain.”

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“We’re getting a room, someplace safe where we can talk and figure out what we’re going to do,” Mateo told her.

Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. Yeah, she was pissed. The fact that she didn’t trust him stung a little. Then again, why should she? He’d treated her like shit, as Wendy had so eloquently put it, then hadn’t shown up for the date he’d practically begged for, not to mention that she’d seen him with Alexandra. The fact that he’d been late to Collassaco’s because he’d torn the city apart trying to find her and then gotten caught in traffic wasn’t the point. He’d even gone back to the coffee shop in the hopes of speaking to Wendy again, but the barista had gone for the day.

He gave the check-in clerk his credit card and instructions to get the car he’d left on the street a few blocks away before glancing at his mate again.

He would have a lot of explaining to do—and some groveling—but at least she was safe. For now. A small thrill rushed through him. Even knowing that danger was near, his dragon was clamoring to get at her, and in just a few minutes, they’d be alone.

As angry as she was, with her emerald eyes practically spewing fire at him, she was gorgeous. Generous curves in all the right places had his mouth watering. She had enough for a man to grab on to and know he had a woman in his hands. Elegant and sexy as hell, her black dress covered everything but hid nothing. And he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Every man in the lobby had looked. He’d seen their gazes drift over her body. Amazingly, it didn’t irritate him as much as he’d thought it would. The possessiveness of the dragon was there in spades, but it was controllable as long as no one approached her. The shimmery black material made her long red locks stand out. He couldn’t wait to see it splayed out on his pillow. None of those men would ever get to see her that way. Only him.

When he caught her glancing at his chest and lower, she huffed. Yeah, he was hard, and there was no hiding it, even though he was wearing jeans. He didn’t have to guess whether she’d noticed—her scent said it all.

Palming the key cards, he thanked the man and led her away. It was time he got to know his mate.