Raul was posed above her, his generous mouth smirking at her inability to form words. She was lost in a delicious haze of pleasure, unable to think of anything but the way her nipples ached, tight with pleasure. Her core ached too, pulsing with need between her legs, her folds sensitive and wet from his teasing.

“Remind me of what it’s like to be yours,” she breathed, staring at him in challenge. “Of what it’s like to be a dragon’s mate.”

At her words, he stiffened, pure heat filling his eyes until they’d turned the orange-red of brilliant flames. His skin was hot, too—so hot that it felt as if she would burn alive in his embrace.

And yet she felt safer than she’d ever felt before. In his arms, nothing could hurt her. Her dragon would keep her safe from all harm.

His tongue on her skin was like the touch of living flame. He trailed a path of wet heat down the center of her body. Willingly, she spread her legs for him, needing to feel him even closer.

One of his fingers found her folds, teasing her with his gentle touch until she was trembling—and then he lowered his mouth over her, and that scalding tongue found her clit.

Pleasure exploded through her at the first touch. With lick after lick, waves of heat ran through her, making her cry out as what felt like a never-ending orgasm consumed her. He didn’t stop until she was nearly out of her mind with, pleasure, her entire body weak and trembling from the fire that had raced through her again and again.

When she was so weak from pleasure that she could barely raise her arms to pull him demandingly closer, he finally released her.

She loved the way he looked like this. Overwhelmed by his need for her. His eyes shone with the brilliant hue of flame. He was tense, every single, hard muscle deliciously outlined against his skin.

And his erection nudged hard as steel against her thigh, making her hunger for more despite what he’d already given her.

He reached for a condom from the drawer of his nightstand, ripping it open with his teeth while she shifted impatiently against him. She could barely wait while he smoothed it over himself—but then, at last, he moved over her, and his shaft nudged at her wet folds.

She moaned in satisfaction when he slid inside, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to pull him even closer. Despite the incredible onslaught of pleasure she’d been given earlier, this was satisfying in quite a different way.

This way, she could feel just how much he needed her. This way, she could feel every single tremor that ran through his powerful body, his broad shoulders damp with sweat as she clutched at them.

He filled her so fully that every time he rocked into her, new waves of pleasure rippled through her. The fullness and the heat of him inside her was incredible. This was where he belonged. This was where she belonged. In his arms, in his embrace, with his heart pounding against her skin.

“My dragon,” she whispered, and then moaned when he lowered his head to nuzzle at her breasts once more.

Again and again he thrust inside her, filling her perfectly while her inner walls clenched around him as if to keep him here, in her arms, forever. His tongue was hot against her sensitive nipple, teasing it until she cried out his name—and then he, too, groaned her name.

She could feel it as pleasure overwhelmed him. Every single of his muscles and tendons tightened, like a ripple moving through the strong body beneath her hands.

He thrust into her one final time as he came, and at last she abandoned herself to his heat. A final wave of ecstasy broke through her and carried her away with it, an orgasm so slow and so intense that it felt like she was trembling with pleasure for long minutes.

She curled against him when he finally rolled to his side, pulling her with him.

“Yours. Always yours,” he said hoarsely, pressing little kisses all over her face, his arms holding her tight and secure.

She fell asleep like that—loved, secure, and very much alive. With a dragon to guard her sleep, who could possible harm her now?

***

In the morning, she wasn’t quite as confident anymore.

She’d fallen from a cliff. For one long, agonizing moment she’d been sure she’d die.

She’d never been afraid of boarding a plane before, and she’d never been scared of heights. But now, when she remembered the terrifying sensation of the world turning upside down, of hurtling through the air with the ground far beneath her, she felt her throat close and her stomach twist.

She’d come really, really close to dying. Without Raul there, she’d be dead now.

And they still had no idea who could have caused this strange accident.

Raul had woken her with a kiss when he’d left early in the morning. He was planning to take a look at their sleigh driver’s stable, and see if anyone remembered anything strange. Meanwhile, Claire had a full schedule waiting for her today.

The first item on her list was to go through the deliveries and outstanding orders for the stalls at the frozen lake. That, at least, brought back a much-needed sense of normalcy.

She’d always enjoyed putting things into order, and after an hour had passed and she’d made several calls to verify the numbers on some of the handwritten, slightly smudged sheets of papers the stalls had handed in, she was left with a nicely formatted list of items, amounts and prices on her computer. Several phone calls to her suppliers later, all of that had been handled to her satisfaction.

She took a deep breath and looked at her phone.

Anything yet? she texted Raul.

A minute later, her phone blinked. Nothing yet. There were a few groups of tourists in yesterday, but no one saw anything.

With so many people around, I guess that was to be expected, she answered.

Unhappily, she looked out of the window. Maybe it had been an accident? Maybe that strange cut had happened when the sleigh had skidded across a sharp rock?

Her phone blinked again. Try to keep to the castle and the lake—don’t go anywhere without company.

Okay. Be careful, she typed, her fingers suddenly trembling.

She was used to rude customers or drunk guests. In her line of work, that was to be expected, and she’d always been able to deal with all of that.

Once or twice, she’d been forced to call the police on a guest: an aging rock star long past his prime who thought that despite his fading fame, he could still trash a room and threaten her maids. And once, a pop star had been trailed by paparazzi who’d broken into the hotel in the middle of the night, hoping to get a good shot of her rumored new boyfriend.

Claire had thought that nothing could faze her after the burlesque starlet who’d brought an actual python with her, who’d promptly escaped her room. But nothing had prepared her for the terrifying sensation of having been at the center of a murder attempt.

If that’s what it was, she reminded herself. It could have been an accident. Or simply someone hoping to scare us.

A sudden knock on her door interrupted her line of thought.

She checked her phone, then cursed.

Ten minutes late for my appointment with the accountant. Shit!

“Don’t worry, I know you must be busy,” Malcolm Ryder said cheerfully when she opened the door. “We could just handle things here in your office, if you want? I’ve brought the most important things with me.”

“That would be great,” Claire said with a relieved sigh, giving her blinking phone another guilty look.

I will. Love you, Raul had texted back.

Claire flushed a little with happiness. As much as she’d claimed that dating was totally out of the question for someone like her, she’d always subconsciously missed this. Someone caring for her. Someone who’d have her back, no matter what.

It was nice, being loved. No, better than that: it filled her with a fluttery excitement, the proverbial butterflies turning somersaults in her stomach for the first time since she’d been a teenager with a mad crush on her best friend’s older brother.

“So. Taxes!” the accountant said brightly. “I know, you’re excited! Everyone’s favorite topic!”

Claire laughed a little helplessly.

“It’s not that bad, I promise.” Malcolm gave her a little wink. “I’ve got some good news, too. But first the bad news: I’ve spent the past days working on the backlog, and there’s quite a number of receipts I’m missing. They should be either filed away in here, or else you’ll have to go through the emails and print them for me.”

Claire took a deep breath. The filing system had, to her delight, looked utterly sensible—but there was still a big pile of unsorted paperwork from the time before Malcolm had taken over.

With a flourish, Malcolm presented her with a list that took up most of two pages.

Claire stared at the list with a sinking feeling, mentally canceling her hope for dinner with Raul tonight.

“That’s going to take several hours,” she said apologetically.

Maybe if I skip lunch...

“Don’t worry.” His grin widened. “I don’t need it until the end of the week.”

“So that’s the good news?” Claire gave him a relieved smile.

She hadn’t been able to quite place him—all the accountants she’d worked with before had been dry as dead wood. Malcolm, on the other hand, seemed strangely manic. Most of the time, he appeared utterly distracted—no doubt thinking about numbers and offshore accounts. But every now and then, he stared at her with such a weird, fevered focus that she felt all unsettled.

And it wasn’t even that he was creepily inappropriate. She’d known that sort of behavior before, after all.

Maybe he doesn’t trust me. Or, more likely, Henrik and Dara told him to keep an eye on me. If he’s trying to make sure I don’t steal any of their money, that probably explains the weird focus and those scary smiles.

“That isn’t actually the good news.” He gave her another of those smiles that were just a little too wide to look natural. “I called in some favors and found a sponsor for your snowball fight in the maze. Only one condition: they want me to send them a few photos of you and Raul holding their prize in the maze, and snapshots of the event. It’ll get a feature in the local news—which means publicity for them and for you. Does that sound like a good deal?”

“Depends,” Claire said slowly. “What’s their prize?”

“A courier dropped it off this morning.” Malcolm pulled a small box from his pocket. Within, a golden chain rested, with a pendant of a tiny, sparkling snowflake.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” Claire breathed.

“Spencer and Son,” he said proudly. “Jewelers. And coincidentally also customers of mine. Those are real diamonds, by the way.”

“Now that should get us a nice turn out.” Claire studied the glittery snowflake with awed admiration. “Not only the kids, but also their parents. We’ll make a real event out of it—with music and a ball afterward, maybe.”

“If you and Raul have time to take part, I’ll volunteer to snap some pictures in the maze—”

“Definitely,” she said firmly. “I’m sure he’ll love that idea.”

Malcolm gave her another of his toothy grins. “Then I’ll leave you to your list. Don’t forget—I need receipts for everything.”

“By the end of the week,” Claire said and laughed as she accompanied him to the door. “Got it.”

Once he was gone, she pulled out her phone. No message from Raul—which was a good sign. It meant no clues—but also no further hints that someone had tried to kill them.

Dinner this evening? she texted.

I was planning on taking you out tonight, he replied a minute later. I’ve got a surprise. Dress warmly.

Claire was smiling so widely at her phone that her face ached.

When was the last time someone had made her feel like this? All of a sudden she felt as if she could take on all the work in the world, if only at the end of it, she’d get a date with her own, incredibly sexy dragon out of it.

I can’t wait, she replied.

Then she turned on some music, took a deep breath, and dived into the pile of still unsorted paperwork to start on Malcolm’s list of missing receipts.