Syen entered Evalina’s lair and watched her lock the door with shaking fingers.

He felt the same way.

She straightened and turned. Her shoulder brushed his. Their mouths hovered inches apart.

She held her breath.

So did he.

Even though she had just spent the flight in his arms, this was somehow more intimate.

She let her breath out and shook herself. “Excuse me.”

He stepped back.

She flicked on the living room light, illuminating comfy colors. And then she laughed, jittery. “I just realized I didn’t leave you much choice about coming in. I already locked the porch.”

His heart kicked in his chest.

It was the ultimate act of intimacy to bring a lover into her den. Unconsciously locking him in. She already considered him hers.

Or did she? She was a human female. Her rules were different.

She hung her purse on a hook and shivered. “Did you want some hot tea? Or a shower?”

“No.” To dry himself, he raised his skin temperature to scalding.

“Nothing?” She filled her kettle with water and grabbed a towel from the hall closet. “You can dry with this. Help yourself to anything. Coffee, juice, tea.”

He accepted the towel but his face and hands were already dry. Steam curled from his suit.

She frowned at the steam, checked the thermostat, and shrugged. Then, she entered her bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He nodded.

“You don’t, uh … with me…”

Was she actually inviting him to take a shower with her? His focus clarified. Listening intently for her next words.

“You know? Never mind. I’ll, uh, be right back.” She escaped. Minutes later, a shower started.

How would she look in the shower? Her face turned toward the spray, water sluicing over her large breasts and slipping between her soft legs…

His cock, hard since she’d pressed against him for the flight, pulsed with tight heat.

Sard was the most generous, most magnanimous boss a dragon could have. Lesser males would sabotage their subordinates for daring to pursue a female. Especially a male as unworthy as Syen.

And yet, thanks to Sard’s insistence, here he was. In her private den!

She must claim him. What could he say or do to make her his?

Syen examined her house.

Her den was warm and soothing. He could relax here, he could be himself here, he could sink into the softness here.

The main room was small and homey, and it smelled floral, like Evalina. Unlike his bare walls, colorful picture boards were decorated with encouraging words like Dream Big or Love Happens or Shine. Scraps of fabric and bits of string accented these photo-paintings.

The shower stopped.

His excitement swelled.

Evalina returned to the living room, bare and pink. Only her hair and nails retained their rainbows.

She was still a thousand times more beautiful than any he had ever seen.

And her pinkness only accentuated her seductive curves. A lime green bathrobe cinched around her waist and revealed an enticing swell of her breasts. Plush unicorn slippers clothed her feet.

She carried mugs of tea on a small wooden tray and set it on the coffee table. “Here. Please have a seat.”

He accepted a mug and perched on the edge of the love seat.

She squeezed a slice of lemon into her mug, stirred it with a spoon, then eased into a big brown armchair. “What do you think of the house?”

“It’s comfortable.” He found himself sinking into the loveseat even though he’d intended to perch on the edge.

“Yeah? It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’s home.”

He nodded and sipped the sweet tea. Chamomile. Also comfortable.

“So, you’re a dragon, huh? I knew you weren’t from around here, but another planet is a little farther out than I was thinking.”

But his identity was so obvious.

She squinted at him. “I think you’re surprised.”

He dipped his head.

“Why? You look as human as me.”

“In this form, I am as human as you.”

“So why are you surprised?”

“No one has ever mistaken me before.”

“I think everyone in the bar mistook you,” she said dryly, and tucked her legs under her, twitching the robe to cover them. “So … What do you think of Earth? Are you here for business or pleasure? Ha ha.”

“Nothing I do is for pleasure.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing until tonight.”

Her brows rose.

“Sard Carnelian has treated me well, but leaving Draconis was not my choice. Tonight is the first time I have ever been glad to have arrived.”

Her mouth dropped open. Her bare lips were soft and dusky pink. Natural and enticing. “So you had a good time earlier?”

“A very good time.”

She licked her lips as though tasting, again, their kiss. “Would you say you’d want to dance with me again?”

“Many times.”

“Right now?”

He stilled. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He did not want to make an error. Already tonight he had made several.

He had not paid attention when Sard met the artist at the bar. He had betrayed Sard’s trust. He had not stopped to release Evalina when he realized he would be gone an unacceptably long time. He had betrayed her trust. And she had suffered great personal cost. Her friends had left her alone in the rain, she had not eaten her special birthday cake, and she had become injuriously chilled.

Now, she had invited him into her lair. Betraying her trust here was the last thing he wanted to do.

Eva lifted the steaming mug. “Can you transform?”

He could. But if she saw his dragon scales then she would know what was wrong with him.

“I was just wondering if you had wings and everything. Like they say.”

“It is dangerous to open them in a room this size.”

“Oh.” Her smile dimmed.

“You are disappointed again,” he said.

“A little.” She blew the steam from the mug. It curled like a female’s flames. Dangerous, but in her case, non-lethal. “I feel like there’s something you’re hiding.”

His heart stopped.

She knew.

“And you don’t trust me enough to tell me about it. Or am I mistaken? I can’t tell by your expression. It’s really hard to figure out. Oh!” She leaned forward, suddenly eager. “Now will you take off your sunglasses?”

His guts lurched. If he took off his sunglasses, Evalina would see his eyes. His eyes were far worse than his scales. She would be horrified. Disgusted. Frightened.

Her eagerness drained and was replaced by grudging confusion. “But we’re inside.”

He should have shown her outside. Where it was dark. She couldn’t have seen his ugliness as clearly there.

But she certainly would have wretched and ordered him from her sight. He would never have enjoyed her comfortable home or been invited inside.

He had just prolonged his hope and wasted her time.

She would be angry.

Her voice shrank, small and sad. “No?”

The moral is don’t conceal anything.

A tight band squeezed the blood out of his heart.

He took a deep breath. Soaking in her comfortable, floral-scented den. Her sweet concern and soft skin. Her.

It would be his last opportunity.

Tonight had been wonderful. He’d felt like a worthy male courting a beautiful female. Thanks to her, he would never forget this feeling.

Syen held up his right hand and flexed.

His nails sharpened to claws and scales shimmered under his skin. The follicles stretched. Like hair standing up on his hand, they emerged, coating his soft human skin in an impenetrable layer of interlocking, gray-white-red speckled scales.

Her eyes widened. The mug tilted in her hand and she fumbled it. A little tea spilled onto her hardwood. She barely seemed to notice.

Now it was all over.

“Wow.” Awe infused her voice. Then, wonder. She reached out. “Can I—”

He twitched. The drive to jerk his arm away and hide nearly overwhelmed him. But he forced himself to remain exposed for her inspection.

She hesitated.

He gritted his teeth. “Can you?”

“Can I touch?”

His jaw went slack for the umpteenth time tonight. She’d surprised him from her first words. Will you be my birthday date? Over and over she’d surprised him. And now he was surprised again. He shouldn’t be. But he’d never imagined that question coming from her lips.

He nodded once.

She set her tea on the coffee table, rose, and stepped closer. Her soft fingers explored his scales. Curious, delicate.

He shuddered.

She lifted. “Is it sensitive?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded husky. He cleared his throat. “I have not shifted in a long time.”

No one wanted to be subjected to his ugly coloration, so even as a dragonlet he’d assumed human form. He had been the most prepared to come to Earth, a planet full of recessive-gene humans who could not shift.

And now a curious female stroked those very scales carefully. Reverently. Inspecting them without horror or disgust.

The band released and blood seeped back his heart, flooding it with warmth.

“So many colors,” she murmured.

“Syenite,” he said.

She glanced up. An open smile lit her face. “Is that what your name’s short for? I’ve never heard of that mineral.”

“It’s a type of granite.” A rare, ugly type.

Her smile widened as though she were happy to learn it. “It’s beautiful.”

His throat closed on a painful lump. “Don’t.”

“Hm? Don’t what?”

“You are beautiful. Your colors. Mine are…” He couldn’t say it. As if by saying it aloud, she’d suddenly realize that she’d been blind, and he really was awful.

Shock stole her smile. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

He shook his head. “Not like…”

Not like her.

Her brows rose. Incredulity mixed with laughter. “But mine wash off. The ‘dramatic color’ is all dye and polish. And body spray, I guess.”

He knew. She had intense bravery to put on and then wash off her colors as if she knew she were worthy no matter how she looked on the outside.

How many times had he wished his scales would change — wash off — overnight and leave him any other color?

Sober understanding softened her features. She cupped his face and stroked soothing thumbs across his cheeks. “May I?”

His tactical shades.

She was determined to remove them.

He swallowed hard.

She did not want to see his eyes.

But maybe he needed her to see.

This tenderness and her kind words were treasures he would carry to his funeral pyre. Even when she destroyed them with her horrified reaction from seeing his eyes.

But … there was a very tiny possibility she would not react with sickness. As with his scales, she might surprise him.

For that reason only he nodded. Quick, before reality intruded and he changed his mind.

She hooked gentle fingers under the hard metal and slid the shades down his nose and off.

His ugliness was revealed.

Her eyes focused on his. Diamond cinnabar. She never wavered.

Without the tactical information scrolling across his vision, such a constant companion he’d become numb to its existence, he saw her more clearly too.

No disgust. Only fascination. “Your irises. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

There was no judgment in her tone. Only curiosity. Kindness. Fascination.

His chest swelled. He risked explaining the problem. “Many find the color disturbing.”

“I wonder why.”

“They match my scales.”

“Do you think so?”

“You don’t?”

She dropped her gaze to his claw and back to his eyes. Evaluating. She stroked the scales thoughtfully. “Your scales are speckled like granite. But your eyes…”

He held his breath.

She gazed deeply and smiled. “The flecks are multi-dimensional and catch the light. White gold, silver. Your scales might be rock but your eyes are glitter.”

He couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

She thought his irises were as stunning as glitter?

Her brows drew together. “I hope that’s not an insult.”

He got his scrambled brain enough together to shake his head.

“Good.” She lightened and stroked his cheek. “Because glitter is my favorite color.”

He shifted his claw back to a human hand, encircled her wrist, and tugged her into his lap.

She’d given him a most treasured gift. He must return her kindness, treasure her, however she would allow him.

She straddled his knee. Her robe slid up to entice him with a long, curvy leg. He wanted to squeeze.

Her noise stopped him.

Her hands hovered over his shoulders like she wanted to regain her balance but feared to touch him. “Um, I don’t know what happens next. I don’t bring guys back here.”

She did not bring other males into her den.

But she had brought him. He was special.

His cock pulsed.

He confirmed his understanding. “I am the first?”

“And only.” She tucked her colorful hair behind her ears. Despite saying it washed off, it was as bright now as in the bar earlier. “So, when it comes to kissing or, uh, the bedroom and kissing, ah, I don’t really know what to do now…”

She could do anything. Anything in the entire universe.

But as when she’d been nervous about walking onto to the dance floor, again, she seemed afraid.

Why should such a bold, warm, beautiful woman feel afraid?

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

She bit her lip and tangled her fingers. “Kiss you.”

He took her hands.

Her gaze riveted on him.

“Then do so.”

Her lips parted. She blinked and looked away. “Just do so?”

He slid his hands up to her wrists. Her wrists were cool and thin beneath his wide palms.

She jumped. Nervous.

Would she change her mind and push him away? No. She stared at his hands as though silently willing him to take action.

He slid his hands up her delicate forearms, over the soft, fluffy sleeves of her lime green bathrobe, across her gently rounded shoulders.

She resisted with a murmur.

He stopped.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay.”

“Put your arms around me.”

She tentatively obeyed, resting her hands on his shoulders. Her brows wrinkled with worry.

Right now, even his ugly eyes didn’t bother him. Evalina was looking at him. Not at what she guessed he might look like behind his shades. Not at what he should have been or used to be. Her hands rested on his shoulders and her gaze, her whole being, focused on Syen. Unmasked for her. Revealed in all his terrible glory.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across the wrinkles.

She blinked and then giggled. “Hey.”

He kissed down her nose.

She giggled again. The worried wrinkles relaxed.

He kissed the thin ridges between her nose and lips.

Her laughter disappeared.

Your eyes are beautiful, Syen.

She was beautiful.

He kissed her lips.

The taste was different from the bar. Clean, soft, warm. Yet still a sparkling rainbow, like her cheerful blue-pink-violet hair, her feminine flavors swirled with fresh mint and warm chamomile.

She opened her mouth to him right away. No longer tentative or afraid, she sought him out and their teeth meshed. Her tongue met his with more confidence.

He stroked her gently.

She teased him and nipped at his lips with her teeth.

Heat flooded to his cock.

He took her mouth. He must mark her. Mark all of her as his.

She made a soft noise. Her fingers splayed across his flexing back, pulling him closer. She pressed her soft breasts up against his chest.

Invitation. Trust. Desire. He never thought he would experience these with a female. His breath tightened in his chest.

Her lips moved to his ear. “Do you want to go to my bedroom?”