15 minutes earlier…

Cheryl concentrated on crossing the smooth, even carpet from the warehouse dressing rooms into the elevator in her new dark red stripper heels.

Well, okay, they weren’t that tall. But for a woman who wore tennis shoes, even a tiny heel felt like walking on toothpicks.

They were also hell to run in, as she’d discovered when she’d escaped from Amber moments ago. Now, as the elevator doors opened, she raced to the front lobby and found…

No one.

Crud. She’d taken too long and missed DragonLord C. Well, she was ten minutes late. Of course he wouldn’t have waited. Nobody wanted her signed print that badly.

Jeanine looked up. “There’s a new look.”

“Thanks.” Cheryl hugged herself. Jeanine hadn’t called it a good look, just new. “Did anyone ask for me?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, thanks—”

“There’s someone in the parking lot that hasn’t come inside yet.”

Cheryl pushed open the glass doors and crossed the parking lot, passing the cars she knew. Wind blew her hair around her face. At the end of the lot, a tall man in a dark suit stared up at the roof of the office building as though studying how to assault it. Expensive sunglasses shaded his eyes and wireless black earbuds rested in his ears.

She sucked in a breath. “DragonLord C?”

He turned. A cold expression masked his face. “I am Syen.”

“Simon?”

He remained silent for a moment. She’d gotten his name wrong, but she wasn’t sure how, and he did not correct her or change expressions.

Embarrassment heated her in a wave. “So, you’re not DragonLord C?”

“No.”

Oh god, she was walking up to random strangers in this vintage rockabilly outfit looking and acting completely unlike herself. “Sorry, I—”

“He’s my boss.” The implacable, cold man removed a small folder from his suit. Inside was a greeting card sized print of chibi Mal in silk pajamas. “Please sign.”

Her heart thumped in her ears. She uncapped his pen, balanced the folder on his hands, and scrawled her name. Her fan had an employee collect her signature! He must be a businessman with no free time, like Mal.

She handed the pen back, wished him well, and hurried back inside.

“Was that your person?” Jeanine asked.

Cheryl nodded and ran for the elevator. Amber was probably already at Mal’s office, wondering where she was.

The elevator was in use, so Cheryl ducked into the reception bathroom and checked her hair. Not bad. She smoothed her vintage T-shirt. With these clothes on, signing autographs, she almost felt like a rock star.

When she came out again, the elevator was standing open. Lucky! She ducked inside and turned around. As the doors closed, she saw Kyan, the scariest dragon, was escorting a stranger outside.

Huh.

The elevator ascended to her floor, and she stepped out.

Pyro, Mal’s closest brother, was walking down the hall in her direction. “Hey, Cheryl.”

“Hey,” she said. “You’re back.”

“Just got in.”

“Welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He lifted his shirt and scratched his abs. “Feels weird. A lot of stuff has changed.”

Pyro was one of the few model-hot dragons who didn’t tie her tongue in knots. Jasper and Alex were attentive, gorgeous, and made her uneasy. Towering Kyan was simply terrifying. But Pyro was like the hot cousin who didn’t notice she was female. On his scale of hot-or-not, she had fallen off the bottom. And that was okay. Really.

Take now, for instance. She was wearing a new curve-hugging outfit and heels that would ordinarily make her want to crawl under a rock.

Pyro barely glanced at her.

“How was prison?” she asked.

“Relaxing.” He yawned. “I caught up on some sleep.”

“Only you would think a Thai prison was relaxing.”

Amber had told her all about Pyro’s night out while they were getting ready in the warehouse. It had involved strippers, smuggling, and lighting a nightclub on fire.

But he was still a good person. Er, dragon. Whatever.

“Nah.” He grinned. One side went down. And he had dimples. He was a bad girl’s wet dream. “You should try it.”

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll get right on breaking the law. Hey, did you hear I’m supposed to be the head of the company or something?”

“I heard that.” His brows lifted sympathetically. “Sucks to be you.”

“I know!” Finally, someone else got it. Pyro had no wish to take on added responsibilities either. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

The elevator binged and Amber stepped out into the hall. Pyro tensed. She passed them and moved quietly to Mal’s office doorway. Pyro relaxed and rubbed his shoulder. “Well, I better get a move on.”

“Yeah.”

Huh.

Cheryl used to think Amber’s quietness was cold or dangerous. But all the guys tensed whenever she was around. Pyro, just now. Jasper and Alex earlier. And Pyro wasn’t afraid of anything.

Amber was trying so hard to live quietly. She hadn’t been lying. Every word she spoke hugely affected those around her. It seemed lonely.

Amber motioned to Cheryl to join her at Mal’s office.

Okay. This was it.

Cheryl turned. Her heels scuffed the carpet and her ankles wobbled. She lurched.

Pyro caught her.

She held on for dear life.

“Careful.” He gripped her forearm in his steady palm. He smelled like sunlight and his yellow-brown eyes gleamed with the hint of bad boy. “Those stilts are deadly.”

Her cheeks heated. He was so good looking.

She straightened. “Yeah.”

Pyro released her and ambled down the hall to his office.

“Where is she?” Mal roared from inside his office. “Cheryl?”

Well, it was nice to be missed.

And, was Mal roaring at Amber? He was the only one who had ever pushed his sister to the point of breathing fire. Maybe it meant more than his bluntness. Maybe insulting his sibling to the point of fury was his way of treating Amber like one of the gang.

Cheryl had learned a lot about her future in-laws in a short time today.

“Find her!” Mal roared.

“You’re so impatient,” Amber said. “She’s right here.”

Cheryl wobbled into Mal’s office.

Mal paced by his desk. He came to a stop. His casual jacket was open and his powerful frame fixed on her. His green eyes glowed like embers. “You will marry me.”

She stopped. He was still going on about that? “I already agreed.”

“You changed your mind.”

“I don’t want that huge office.”

His brows drew together. “Who said you had to?”

Well. That was a relief.

Alex jostled Jasper and Amber to escape into the hall. “I will set the new appointment with the Justice of the Peace.”

Mal ignored him. He ignored all of them. He seemed unable to take his eyes off her. “Something about you is different.”

He noticed.

His gaze dropped to her sinful red heels and headed up. Up the curve of her rockabilly capris to the tight, braless T-shirt where she could feel her nipples pushing out. Amber had applied luscious red nail polish and matching scarlet lipstick. Her hair, which usually covered her face, Amber had curled and pulled back into a yellow kerchief.

For the second time in two days, Cheryl felt new. Remade.

And the growing intensity of Mal’s growl as his gaze stroked her cemented the feeling. Mal stepped closer, inspecting her. “Something is very different.”

Amber cleared her throat.

Right.

Cheryl put one hand on her hip like she’d seen in a vintage print. The woman in that print had looked like she could do anything. Maybe so could Cheryl.

The future of the company was on the line.