Syen’s question seemed to shock Evalina. Her eyes flew wide. “Me?”

“Yes.”

The shock faded. She let go of his arm.

His family’s failure did cling to him. She could sense he was fallen. His heart sank.

She toyed with the nearly empty glass. “Are you making fun of me?”

Make fun of? “I want to make fun with you. Is it the same?”

She glanced up. “You’re not from around here, are you? I’ve been thinking that.”

He shook his head.

“If you want to dance, I’ll introduce you. My friends are much better dancers than I am.”

He grabbed her hand.

She froze.

He should not touch her uninvited. But her soft, feminine palm and slender, soothing fingers curled around his massive hand. He could not force himself to let go.

“I don’t want to dance with your friends.” He held her gorgeous diamond-and-cinnabar gaze. “I want to dance with you.”

Her generous smile returned. Fragile and precious. She eyed her empty glass. “I might need another one of these before I can get out there.”

Then … she did not reject him after all.

His chest lifted.

She was a sweet, kind, gracious, beautiful woman. More than a hideous, unsocialized, fallen dragon deserved.

He released her hand and picked up her glass. “The same?”

She stopped him. “You’re too nice.”

What did that mean? He shifted onto his heels. Too nice? What was that criticism, nice?

“You want to dance with me? Seriously?” She flung her purse strap over her shoulder and squared her shoulders. “Alright. I’m ready.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

They walked to the dance floor.

He wove between couples, angling his body to keep his boss within his gaze, and fought the urge to snarl at males crowding Evalina. Heavy bass thumped in his chest. Treble scratched his empty ear.

She led him to an isolated corner and released his hand. Straightening her corset and purse, she bobbed in rhythm. Careful. As though she were made of glass.

“You dance alone? Not as a couple?”

She tilted her right ear toward him. This close to the speakers, she must not trust his earbud.

He hooked her waist and drew her against him.

Her eyes widened.

Lowering to her right ear, he murmured. “Dance with me.”

She stiffened.

He had gone too far. She didn’t wish for this closeness. He—

She melted into him.

He caught her, his hands on her soft waist anchoring her to him. He swayed her like the other couples. Her soft cleft brushed against his thigh.

His cock flooded with arousal.

How could he keep any attention on his boss?

And now, of all times, the boss’s artist arrived.

Bilgefire.

Across the room, Sard Carnelian conference with the artist. His hard eyes swept the dance floor, connected with Syen’s, and continued on.

Divided focus was dangerous. Syen slowed, struggling to balance both demands.

Evalina drew back and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Sorry. I’m not really used to this.”

How dare he make her doubt herself? She had worried that he would dislike her dancing and instead of easing her fears, he had lost focus on her and increased them.

He repaired the damage now. “Evalina, put your arms around me.”

She obeyed stiffly, her palms sliding across his wide shoulders until they hooked around the back of his neck. A wide gap remained between her chest and his.

“Relax.”

“I’ll knock you over.”

“You can’t.”

She frowned.

He rested his arm on the small of her back and pressed her soft abdomen to his.

She grabbed shoulders for balance and stepped forward, her breasts sliding against his chest. Her legs straddled his hard thigh. She hesitated, holding herself back, and then she released her breath and melted against him.

Yes.

His heart pounded harder than the music. He tilted his hips forward. Her soft breasts rubbed down his chest and her buttocks pointed out. He eased back. Her skirt rode up and her cleft rubbed his thigh.

His cock throbbed. Hot and ready and hungry.

She tightened her arms around him.

This was human dancing.

He swayed, his attention impossibly fractured. Across the bar, his boss spoke to the target. He needed to keep his attention there. But Evalina swayed in his arms.

His cock, hard as iron, urged him to dive into her yielding sweetness and release his seed.

Her fingers softly tickled the hair at the back of his neck.

His cock jolted with heat.

She toyed with strands of his dark hair. Her floral scent teased his nose, light and happy, sparkling and glittering and beautiful.

The song changed.

Her smile glowed, rapt. “I love this one!”

She closed her eyes, rested her hands on his shoulders, and arched her back. Her waist went liquid, moving to his rhythm. She yielded to him with trust, resting her full weight in his arms.

No other female had ever put her trust in him this fully.

Her eyes closed and her hot pink lips parted. Her tongue teased the rim of her mouth.

She threaded fingers through her rainbow hair and trailed her hand down her face, across her swelling breast, and stroked the soft velveteen down to her purple skirt to her thigh.

He wanted her naked, his hands tracing the same path, followed by his tongue.

Her eyes snapped open. The clear brown diamonds fixed on him.

Her light, floral scent deepened to the sweet syrup of arousal. It wrapped around his cock and squeezed, breaking his control.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

She licked her lips again.

Would she allow…?

He slowed.

Her gaze remained fixed on his mouth as though she were willing his lips to cover hers.

He lowered his head and claimed her.

The pink was soft and yielding, just as he’d imagined, but also hot and wet and trembling. He tested her gentle seam. She opened to him and her tongue found his.

Her flavor was sweet as the cola and hot as flame.

He sucked her deep into his mouth.

She made a hungry noise. Her fingers threaded his hair.

He thrust into her mouth. She accepted him and pushed back. Their tongues tangled. Meeting, skating away, meeting again. Their mating dance.

Her fingernails dug into his scalp. Shivers trailed down his back.

He crushed her to his chest.

Syen craved to sweep her off the floor, fly her away from this club, and worship her. No matter the fallen state of his family. No matter that she deserved a worthier male. He craved—

Someone approached.

He lifted his mouth from hers and thrust her behind him.

She squeaked.

A slender female had been reaching forward to tap Evalina on the shoulder. Now, her hand suspended over empty air.

Evalina clung to his shoulders.

The female frowned in confusion. “Eva?”

“Y-yes?”

He moved aside to allow Evalina out.

She wiped her mouth and adjusted her skirt. “Um, what’s up?”

“We’re ready to go.”

“Oh. Already?”

“It’s getting late. Restaurants are going to close.” Her friend evaluated him, then leaned toward Evalina and smirked. “Fix your lipstick.”

Evalina clapped her hand over her mouth. “Thanks.”

Her friend’s smile lightened. She wove through the crowds and disappeared.

They moved off the dance floor. Evalina rummaged in her purse for a mirror and a stick of the lip color.

Across the bar, Sard motioned to Syen. He was alone. Which meant … what did it mean? Syen had turned his attention off the instant Evalina’s hot pink mouth touched his.

Not good.

She put away her makeup and shouldered her purse. Anxiety pinched the skin between her brows. “I think we’re leaving. We might go out for cake. Do you want to come?”

His breath lodged in his throat.

Her smile twisted into a grimace. “Don’t like cake?”

“You wish to prolong the date?”

“Is that okay?”

It was more than okay. His heart hiccupped again. More time with her. “Yes.”

“Syen.” His boss’s voice growled in one earbud. “Outside. Now.”

She gasped and put her hand over her ear. “Was that your boss?”

“I will conference with him and return.”

“Oh. Um.” She tangled her fingers. “Do you want to exchange numbers?”

Another growl. “Syen!”

They both jolted.

Exchanging numbers would take too long.

“Evalina. I will find you.” Syen rested his hands on her soft shoulders. “Wait for me.”

Her anxiety melted away. “Okay.”

He released her and strode for the exit.

Her trust warmed his soul.

Outside, Sard Carnelian crossed his arms over his massive chest. “We failed.”

Uh oh. “Sir?”

“The artist needs to think it over. We did not make a compelling offer.” Sard Carnelian rose into the air. “We’re going back to the office to try again.”

This meeting would not end soon.

Syen’s heart sank. “Sir? I must—”

“Fly with me.” His boss, still in human form, summoned him from twenty feet overhead. “Now!”

His loyalty snapped into correct focus.

“Sir.” Syen lifted off.

A woman across the street pointed. “Dragons!” Her partner craned to see them, already dark dots on a wet, cloudy sky. The city shrank below.

Evalina would never wait. His one chance with the colorful, beautiful, bold woman was gone.