Anders’ condo in New York City was not unlike the one Addison lived in Toronto, though on a much larger scale.

The brothers sat on the rooftop garden, perched on the edge of the building like two statuesque gargoyles ready to overtake the Big Apple down below. Anders had already shifted back into his human form, but Marcus wanted to feel his dragon skin for just a moment longer.

“You miss it, don’t you?” Anders chuckled, eyeing Marcus through his peripheral vision. “All the corporate stress is getting to you.”

Reluctantly, Marcus transformed from his silver-grey suit of armor back into his human form, the claws on his feet retracting.

“I don’t miss the plundering of villages, if that’s why you mean,” he replied dryly. “And I live a very fulfilled life.”

“So, I hear,” Anders teased. “You have your revolving doors of women, after all. How do you do it, dear brother?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Marcus shot back, spinning around to place his feet on the blacktop. He stretched, his wings tucking back into his spine, and he glanced at Anders, who sat in place. “What? You want another race?” he challenged. “I’ll let you win this time.”

Anders laughed and shook his head.

“No,” he answered easily. “I was just admiring the view. No matter how long I live here, I never get tired of it.”

“You shouldn’t stay in one place for so long,” Marcus warned him. “It’s not good for your identity.”

“Look who’s talking,” Anders responded, also sliding off the ledge to join Marcus. “You have been in Canada for what, forty, fifty years? You look remarkable, brother.”

Marcus snorted, and the two headed back into the multi-floored condo across from Central Park.

“Did you have the contract?” Anders asked, and Marcus nodded, reaching for his briefcase.

“The email quality was good,” Marcus commented. “Why do you need the originals?”

“Well, I just want to see if I’m missing something a scan overlooked,” his brother answered. “But whatever you sent me has all the workings of a proper contract, except for the board mention.”

Marcus placed the papers in Anders’ hand and dropped unceremoniously onto the sofa, reaching for a sifter of brandy. A member of the house staff scurried in.

“Is there something you need, Mr. Williams? Mr. Williams?” He looked from one man to the other, but Marcus shook his head.

“Yes, Rico,” Anders said, scanning the documents in his hands. “Can you make up Marcus’ usual room on the third floor?”

“No need,” Marcus said quickly. “I’m heading back to Toronto tonight.”

Anders glanced up, surprised by the declaration. “It’s late, Marcus. You have your jet, don’t you?”

“I do not,” Marcus replied shortly, his eyes darting toward Rico, who seemed to take his cue and hurry away.

“You flew here?” Anders demanded, shaking his head. “And you are worried about me getting us exposed! Shame on you, Marcus. If that’s the case, I suppose you’ll want to leave in the cloak of night. Stay until tomorrow night, then, or else you can use my plane.”

“No,” Marcus said. “I want to get home tonight. I have… plans for the weekend.” Try as he might to keep his answer vague, Anders’ eyes widened in surprise, clearly having heard what he was saying between lines.

“Plans?” his brother echoed. “As in romantic plans?”

“Will you please just focus on the paperwork?” Marcus insisted, a tinge of color touching his face.

He abruptly turned his head to look out the rectangular glass. Just beyond, he could see the twinkling lights of the city, the vantage points breathtaking. He liked flying when he could. The opportunities were so far and few, with commercial airlines and private jets littering the skyways. Marcus longed for a time before airplanes.

But that night, he would risk it, if only for the chance of getting back to Toronto to whisk Addison away to the cottage. He had called ahead to have his staff open the house for their arrival, and he was looking forward to two full days with her.

I missed her on this trip. I should have brought her along on my back, he thought, and the notion stunned him.

Never had he ever entertained exposing who he was to any of his women.

But Addison had an almost trance-like hold on him, her appeasing nature so good for his soul. She didn’t allow anyone to walk over her, but at the same time, there was this calm air surrounding her, like she could resolve conflicts with her mere presence.

It was almost like Addison belonged to another century. Perhaps that was why Marcus was so drawn to her.

In his pocket, his cell began to chime. He grabbed it, half-hoping it was Addison calling.

Marcus released a feral grumble as he recognized the name on his display.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Anders piped in, and Marcus inhaled sharply, answering the call.

“Yes, Tatiana.”

“We have a problem,” she greeted him, but he was not surprised in the least.

“It is going to have to wait,” he replied. “I’m in New York attending to some business.”

“Well, this can’t wait,” she snapped. “Listen.”

Marcus resisted the urge to bark a refusal. “Go ahead.”

“Someone has been pilfering money from the corporate accounts,” she said tightly. “And it has your name all over it.”

Marcus bolted up, his spine a steel rod of fury.

“Excuse me?” he growled. “How dare you?”

“I am just telling you where the money trail leads,” Tatiana said. “The wire transfers are done under your name and sent to an account in the Caymans. You have offshore accounts, don’t you, Marcus?”

“So does ninety percent of the privileged world, Tatiana,” he argued. “Why am I willing to bet that you have a few yourself?”

“I won’t ask why you sound so defensive. You need to get back to Toronto,” she insisted, “and we need to straighten this out.”

“You are accusing me of stealing from my own company!” he spat. “Forgive me for sounding defensive.”

Anders’ head jerked up in shock, but Marcus signaled him to be silent.

“Marcus, all I can say is that this paper trail doesn’t lie. You’ll see that the transfers have all been through your identification.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

For a moment, Tatiana was silent, as if debating whether she should tell him the exact amount. “It has been a few thousand dollars from each of our massive accounts,” she answered. “Five thousand here, ten thousand there.”

“The ten thousand from Lingergram,” Marcus groaned, running his hand down his face. “That, too?”

“Yes,” Tatiana responded. Her voice sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. “I told you that there was something wrong and you didn’t listen.”

Marcus bit his tongue, even though he desperately wanted to remind Tatiana that he was the CEO and had bigger fish to fry than dealing with pocket change.

“How much in total?” he asked again.

“From what I’ve found, we’re looking at more than three million dollars, but I’m not finished investigating yet.”

“I’m not about to get worked up over such a small amount,” Marcus said, his mind whirling.

“It’s money that is being stolen from your company, Marcus!” Tatiana cried through the phone. “What is wrong with you?”

“I am not brushing this aside, Tatiana!” he snapped, annoyed with her.

“I should hope not,” she retorted, “because it certainly sounds that way to me!”

“How long has this been going on?” Marcus demanded, desperate to change the subject. Why did every conversation with this woman seem to be a personal attack against him?

“I don’t know, Marcus. Why don’t you tell me?”

“You’re wrong,” he told her bluntly. “There is some glitch, or you’re overlooking something. And I’ll prove it to you when I see you on Monday.”

“No, Monday is too late,” Tatiana replied, her tone increasing in intensity. “You have to—”

“Monday,” Marcus repeated, disconnecting the call before she could argue any further.

“Someone is embezzling money from your company?” Anders asked in disbelief.

Marcus forced a chuckle. “Apparently. And the CFO thinks it’s me. As if I couldn’t walk into any bank in the world right now in my dragon skin and walk out with anything I wanted without them ever knowing it was me. Robbing my own company. Can you imagine such bullshit? I built the damned thing from the ground up.”

“You’ll get to the bottom of it,” Anders assured him. Then he gestured to the papers in his hands. “Why don’t you leave this with me and go deal with this crisis?”

Marcus nodded slowly.

“All right,” he agreed. “Thank you, brother.”

He retreated to the balcony and slipped into his dragon form, his silver wings tearing through his back as he ran to catch momentum from the rails.

As he soared over Manhattan, he tried to make sense of what Tatiana had told him. If someone was stealing from him, it had to be someone close to him. That didn’t make things any better: the list of people who were close to him was long and devastating.

It had to be one of his women, then. But who would betray him in such a way, especially when he gave them every material possession they wanted?

They want for nothing, Marcus thought, dipping through the cloudless night, his amber eyes trained on the blackness for unexpected aircraft. He shook his head, deciding that he would deal with this on Monday. Tonight, he vowed, I will whisk Addison away to the woods, and we will forget about the outside world for two days. I can’t wait to see her face when I get there.

His wings beat against the sky, increasing his speed against the autumn air, crossing over Lake Ontario toward the Toronto skyline. Falling gracefully at an alleyway in the downtown core, he transformed back into his human form. From there, he hailed a taxi and landed at the Queen Street condos.

“Mr. Williams!” Gene cried from his spot at the concierge. “How wonderful to see you!”

Marcus ignored the annoying doorman and pressed the elevator button, determined to block out everything but what he was going to do to Addison when he entered the penthouse.

I’m going to tear off her clothes with my teeth and pin her to whatever floor she’s on. No foreplay, no sweet-talk, just primal lust until she’s begging me for mercy. After that, I will pick her up and carry her to the car, where I will start again, on her toes this time, working my way up her calves…

The swelling in his pants told him he was onto a solid plan.

The elevator opened, and Marcus rushed toward the penthouse, fumbling for his keys as the tightness in his crotch grew to uncomfortable proportions. He jammed the key in the lock and pushed open the door, listening for sound of life in the extravagant apartment.

“Addy?” he called into the completely black unit, flicking on lights in his wake. “Are you sleeping?”

He glanced at his Rolex, his brows furrowing. It was after midnight. She had not mentioned going anywhere that night, but he hadn’t asked, either. There had never been a time that she hadn’t been home when he arrived.

“Addy?” he tried again. Still, there was no response.

It is Friday night. Maybe she went out for a drink. I’ll call her, Marcus thought, but when he reached for his cell, he heard the front door open again.

Addison screamed when she saw him, her face turning ghastly pale. She was holding a bag in her hands, and she seemed to tighten her grip on it.

“Marcus!” she choked. “What are you doing here? I—I thought you were in New York!”

It was not the reaction Marcus had wanted. As his eyes fell on her body, consternation filled his mind.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, dumbfounded. “Is that your uniform from the diner?”

Addison looked down at herself, as if she had forgotten she was wearing it. Then she nodded sheepishly and lowered her bag onto the sofa table, tentatively stepping toward him.

“I went back to working at the diner,” she confessed, and the words seemed silly and foreign to Marcus’ ears.

“What? Why? All of your bills are paid for, plus you receive a very generous salary.”

Addison lowered her eyes and perched on the edge of the sofa, as if searching for the right words to answer him.

“Just something to do at nights when you’re not with me,” she mumbled.

Marcus didn’t understand why she would go back to a job she had seemed unhappy with, especially now that she could entertain herself with so much more than that. He reasoned they could discuss it at the cottage. Plastering a smile on his face, he shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I have a surprise for you. Go get changed and meet me back here. We’re going away this weekend.”

Addison looked up at him, and the corners of her mouth folded in.

“I can’t go anywhere this weekend,” she replied quietly. “I have to work tomorrow and Sunday.”

Marcus felt his head spinning slightly.

“No,” he said firmly. “I am your priority. Remember?”

For the first time since he had known her, Marcus saw Addison’s face twist into an ugly slice of anger, and she stepped toward him, her eyes flashing.

“I remember agreeing to the fact that we would never move in together or get married,” she retorted. “But I do not remember agreeing that you will be my priority! Why would I? It’s not like I am your first priority, or even your sixth!”

Marcus recognized the ire in her eyes, and his ears started buzzing.

“This is not working out,” Addison continued before he could think of something to say. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I thought I could do this, but I can’t. Thank you for everything.”

She hurried out of the condo, dropping her keys and fob on the table in the foyer as she left, and Marcus could only stare uncomprehendingly after her.

She has been working somewhere else behind my back, he realized. What else has she been doing? What else has she been hiding from me? Is she the one stealing from the company?

But the one thought that overrode all others, the one fact Marcus was finding most difficult to comprehend, was that Addison Dryden had walked out on him.

In seven hundred years, Marcus Williams had never been dumped before. Not even once.