The villa was huge. Larger than life.

In fact everything around Galen seemed to be like that. Unbelievable. Suspension of belief was becoming a thing that Alexis had become all too familiar with in the last few hours.

She hadn’t even had time to really sit down and think about what had happened, between walking in on a private conversation between dragons, hearing the fate of Knossos, realizing that there was an opportunity to change it, and then somehow managing to promise her hand in marriage to a man that any woman would be lucky to have. Her head was spinning, though at this point she mostly blamed the kiss.

Numbly, she’d let Galen walk her through the villa, her hand in his (which felt absolutely amazing), fielding looks from servants (because of course he would have servants up at the ungodly hour of dawn), barely paying attention to anything other than the feeling she got when he touched her. It was otherworldly, like nothing she’d experienced before. Profound excitement and calm all rolled into one, with a more than generous helping of lust.

Business deal, remember? Alexis reminded herself, finding that, in fact, she hadn’t remembered.

She was here to serve as his fake bride. On the virtue of her name and her knowledge of the palace and the man set to remodel it, along with being at the wrong place at the wrong time, she’d roped herself into this. There was nothing romantic about it. Nope, nothing at all.

Her fingertips trailed to her lips, touching them slightly, trying to figure out if that kiss, or those kisses to be more exact, could have been faked. It didn’t feel like it.

“Here,” Galen said, after they’d climbed several sets of stairs and he opened a door to the most luxurious bedroom Alexis had ever seen.

He carted her in gently, closing the door behind her, while all she could do was stare.

Impossibly high ceilings, dark hardwood floors, separation between the bed (set up on a dais) and an area for reading and relaxation, all oozing wealth and comfort. It was a far cry from her tiny one-bedroom apartment over a souvenir shop near Knossos.

“Wow,” she muttered, getting a chuckle from Galen.

His hand touched the small of her back and she jumped slightly, surprised, but not unwilling to feel it again.

“I’ll be staying here?” she muttered, wide-eyed as she turned to face him.

“We’ll be staying here,” he corrected her, a sly smile spread on his lips.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re to be dragon and mate. It would be an oddity if I gave you another room separate from mine. If I bring you into my house, I announce that we are to be one. There can be no separation.”

“I don’t think that was in the contract,” she sputtered, swallowing dryly.

“We don’t have a contract.”

Lips pursing, Alexis had to admit that he wasn’t entirely wrong on that.

“Maybe we should get a contract.”

“You should take a shower. I’ll have someone bring you something to wear. I’ll wait for you in the downstairs lounge. Down the stairs, to the left. You can’t miss it. I’ll be waiting, my bride,” he said, finishing the sentiment with a cheeky grin that Alexis wanted to slap off of him as much as she wanted to kiss it off of him.

That man did impossible things to her and it wasn’t cool.

Before she could bite back with a fitting remark, he’d left the room, somehow leaving his presence behind. With a sigh, Alexis stalked further into the bedroom, having to admit that Galen was right – she needed a shower. Maybe after that, they could talk about what the hell they were going to do about all of this.

* * *

“This is not exactly something I usually wear,” Alexis protested the moment she finally found Galen in the study (and yes, it was, in fact, possible to miss the place in a house so big it could host several major conferences without anyone feeling even remotely crowded).

He gave her a look and she stilled at the doorway, forgetting to put her hand on her hip in some display of resentment at the slinky, dark blue, off the shoulder number he’d had laid out for her, hugging every curve as elegantly as it did obscenely.

Or maybe it was only a little obscene because of how he looked at her as she walked in wearing it, like he was ready to tear the dress off and discard it on the floor.

Alexis swallowed, finding her moxie disappearing along with her objections to the dress.

“You look lovely,” Galen said evenly, his gaze finally flicking up to her face.

When he smiled at her, the sliver of a grin of a man in great appreciation of what he’s seeing, she couldn’t help but flush a little and skitter inside, closing the door behind her.

“I tend to go for something more modest. Slacks, t-shirts, the like,” she explained sheepishly as Galen showed her to a chair and helped her to a seat.

“Noted,” he said, sitting at the head of the table, decked with a lavish selection of breakfast foods. “But as my bride, you’ll have to get used to putting on appearances. That comes with getting comfortable in fine clothing. No time like the present to start.”

He seemed unflappable in his uncertainty that this was all normal – starting from the fact that he’d changed into a suit that was only slightly more casual in the sense that it was tan instead of dark blue, to that the breakfast they had been served could have fed ten and left none wanting. Oh, and then there was the small fact that he seemed to think this whole marriage thing was set in stone.

“Maybe we could discuss details about that then,” she started evenly, having taken the shower to try and right her feelings on the matter.

She hadn’t gotten very far.

“By all means,” Galen allowed, serving her a soft-boiled egg and passing on a selection of meats and cheeses after decking his own plate. “What would you like to discuss? The pending nuptials, changing your name, the relative futility of backing out of this as it would lead to a future neither of us seem keen on embracing?”

By the amount he seemed ready to consume, Alexis was ready to correct her assumption that there was enough food for ten. Maybe there was just enough for one dragon, and one very confused woman.

Galen glanced at her, a wry smirk spread on his maddeningly inviting lips. Brow furrowing, Alexis poked at her food a little, feeling like all she was doing was digesting for the past couple hours.

“I’m fond of my name, thank you.”

“Unfortunate. It’ll have to be mine,” Galen said with a shrug. “Dragon rules.”

The last part was added in passing and Alexis wasn’t entirely certain he hadn’t just made it up. Which only lead her back to her original problem of feeling like she didn’t have much say in the outcome of any of this, other than to nod and agree with whatever the dashing dragon came up with. Hard to say no to a man who is very well versed in literally sweeping you off your feet.

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” she asked, nibbling at her food and finding it absolutely delightful despite original misgivings.

Of course the food would be marvelous. Like everything else that seemed to circle around Galen.

“If there were, better dragons than I are yet to figure it out,” Galen said, looking up sharply at a door opposite of where Alexis had entered from. “And even if I could think of something, it’s too late now. Smile, my love.”

Alexis had no time to ask what he meant before the door was thrown open in a flourish, a man similar to Galen in height and build and facial features wafting in on a cloud of self-confidence.

Grear Calder, Alexis realized with a start, recognizing the international playboy from more magazine covers, those however not being the likes of Forbes and more like gossip rags, inundated with talk of his newest and latest conquests.

“Brother. Done with the watch?” Galen asked, looking up evenly.

Grear’s eyes burned a deep gold, only tempering slightly as he caught sight of Alexis. He smiled a wider, more predatory grin than the ones she’d seen on Galen, the kind that could make an unsuspecting woman’s knees go weak if she weren’t aware that she might as well be prey to him.

“You’re being rude, Galen. Introduce me to your friend,” Grear said, barely sparing Galen a glance as he strode with long, purposeful strides right up to Alexis’ chair.

She thought she should stand, but one look from Galen had her nailed to the spot, with him leaning back in his seat casually.

“Certainly,” he started, Alexis doing her best impression of indifferent interest in meeting Galen’s acquaintance. “Grear Calder, my mate and wife-to-be, Alexis Davies. Alexis, my brother, Grear. You might know him from… well, his reputation tends to proceed him.”

“Pleasure,” Alexis said, offering her hand to Grear, only to find the man awestruck and dumbfounded.

He shook her hand numbly while the impression Alexis had was that Grear would be the sort of Grecian gentleman to immediately kiss her fingers or at least demand cheek kisses, but he seemed preoccupied with stomaching this particular development.

I know how you feel, she thought, taking some solace in the fact that someone else had the decency to look thrown.

“Mate. Wife,” Grear echoed, releasing Alexis’ hand and moving around the table to sink into a seat on the other side of Galen, one that Alexis hadn’t noticed to be set before. “That is… well. Well.” Realization dawned on his face, the gold happily seeping back into his eyes. Now, when he smiled, he was more dragon than man. The change was uncanny. “Oh. I see. You move fast, little brother.”

“I do not know what you speak of,” Galen said tersely, reaching a hand for Alexis’ and grabbing it gently but firmly on the table. “The simple fact that I do not tell you all that goes on in my life does not make it any less true.”

“Hmm,” Grear murmured, stacking his own plate.

Alexis did the one wise thing she had in her arsenal and remained quiet, feeling herself somewhat outclassed amid a mental sparring of brothers. If anything, it was official now. It wasn’t just between her and Galen, this crazy scheme, but it had been announced to the world via his brother.

All in now, she thought a little dizzily.

Grear’s clever eyes sought out Alexis’ and she held the gaze without faltering as Galen let go of her hand to resume his breakfast.

“Peculiar timing, though, wouldn’t you say? What with the talk our uncle had…”

“You don’t need to hide anything from Alexis. We keep no secrets from one another,” Galen said, his tone still terse, tightly in control of the situation despite his brother’s prodding. “She knows of the ultimatum we were served. I admit, we would have preferred to wait longer, but fate is fate and we are both willing and happy to move forward now if fate so demands.”

“And by fate, you mean our uncle.”

“Are the two not the same?” Galen queried, both men grinning at the private joke.

“Could be,” Grear allowed, looking to relax slightly as he dug into his breakfast and Alexis did the same.

If she was going to be swept up in craziness, she might as well do it on a full stomach, right?

“So you’re happy to move into our humble abode and make this lug your mate for life?” Grear asked, his tone jovial now, between sips of coffee.

Alexis felt her spine stiffen, another fleeting glance at Galen revealing nothing of how she should play this, other than the obvious. The moment she would say something, she knew she’d sold her hand to the devil. Or the dragon, as it were.

Then again, hadn’t she already?

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” she said mildly, cocking her head to the side and looking wistfully (or as close as she could on such short notice) at her husband-to-be.

I should have taken acting classes instead of going into archaeology, she thought, finding Grear pleased with her effort.

The notion that she was a fine actress was an easier one to swallow than the possibility that she simply liked looking at the man who had decided so unceremoniously to commandeer her future.

“A better answer no dragon could have asked for,” Grear said.

The look Galen gave her confirmed that to be true. Her heart soared, that treacherous muscle.

How am I going to survive this?