Sylvie knew she should feel uncomfortable with the situation.

She’d never been taken on a nice date before, let alone one as fancy as this. She usually hated the idea of dresses and heels, and she certainly didn’t like letting anyone else lead.

Yet, with Cobalt, all of that seemed to fall into place so naturally. Here in his arms, she felt so safe, so protected, and she was almost ashamed of how good and relaxing it felt after being an independent woman for so long.

She was a fighter. She prided herself on being so. But now she was wondering if she was really inherently like that or if she’d just developed that as a defense mechanism because the only person who was ever willing to stand up for her was herself.

With Cobalt around, she was getting more and more willing to let her guard down, and that scared her somehow.

But there were uncomfortable things that were bad (like being imprisoned) and uncomfortable things that were good (like letting someone treat you better than you’ve ever been treated), and Sylvie guessed this situation was the latter.

She felt as if she were flying as she spun in his arms. His posture was perfect, his expression serious, but his deep-blue eyes were filled with passion as they looked into hers.

She almost felt she could get lost looking into so much unfathomably deep blue.

She tripped slightly, and Cobalt caught her, interrupting the dance and breaking the magic that had fallen over the moment.

She straightened, looking up at him. Her whole body was heated from exertion, and a needy want had already started deep inside her, just from their prolonged touch.

He was starting to have too much power over her, and she wasn’t sure how long she could take it.

At first, it had just been pure lust. A need to tease him, to make him feel out of control.

But now, with her own body nearly shaking with arousal, she wondered who the out-of-control one really was.

“I think I need a break,” she said breathlessly.

“Of course.” He put out an arm to escort her back to the table, and she took it, feeling like she was in some kind of fairy tale, though she was very aware she was no princess.

Princesses didn’t have to fight off their stepdads in the dark. Princesses didn’t get thrown out after fights with people who should have protected them.

Princesses didn’t wear hand wraps and box for a living or get evicted when they couldn’t pay rent or hang out with sweaty guys all the time.

And when the spell broke on her magic time in this mansion, she would go back to being a pumpkin once again.

The thought made it harder to accept moments like this, but she also knew they might be the happiest of her life, so she should treasure them.

He pulled out her chair, and her throat felt tight as she accepted the gesture and sat down, letting him push her gently in against the table.

He sat across from her and poured her another glass of champagne.

Goddammit, it was hard to breathe just looking at him. He was so handsome. He looked like some fancy artist had tried to sculpt a mathematically perfect face, then gave him exotic-looking hair and soulful blue eyes.

And a pair of sexy glasses to top it all off.

“I wish I was rude enough to read your mind,” he said quietly, pushing the glass of champagne toward her.

“Chromium did.” She raised the glass and took a sip. It was nice. Not the hard, cheap vodka she was used to having when she drank with buddies, but nice.

It took a lot more than champagne to get her drunk, but she decided not to tell Cobalt this.

Cobalt frowned. “How so?”

“Oh, he just heard some stuff I didn’t mean him to.”

Cobalt straightened and folded his arms. “Like what?”

She flushed and waved a hand. “Oh, nothing important. And he said he would stop. Anyway, no need to talk about that.”

“Then what’s on your mind? You looked troubled there for a moment.”

She set down her glass. “I’m troubled a lot of the time. I mean, a woman doesn’t end up an amateur fighter because of an easy past.”

“What was your past like?” His blue eyes were intensely curious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She took another sip of champagne and pushed a clean glass toward him. “Why don’t you drink, too? Surely a big, strong dragon like you can hold your liquor.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said primly. “I haven’t imbibed before.”

“Imbibed. I like that word.” She threw back the rest of her champagne. “Come on. You need to catch up.” He’d mentioned earlier he didn’t have experience with alcohol, but that just meant it would probably be more fun to see him drunk.

Besides, she’d already enjoyed things his way, all fancy and buttoned up. Now it was time for him to live a little her way.

He looked at his glass warily as she filled it up. “I don’t know. I need my wits about me to protect you.”

She looked around them. “We’re in the mansion. I think we’re okay.”

He frowned. “I suppose you have a point. Still, I don’t like the idea of being less in control of my mental faculties.”

“Faculties, schmaculties. It’s time to have fun.”

He looked at his drink and held it up, touching it to hers. “Down the hatch, then, I suppose.”

Then he took his glass and downed it in one gulp, and her eyes widened slightly as he coughed and sputtered, hitting his chest.

“Wow. That’s… not what I thought. It tastes like fruit mixed with poison.”

She laughed. “Hilarious. But you’ve only started. I had one with dinner and one now, so you’re behind.”

“It’s only fair,” he said, lips puckering. He poured another glass and downed it, shaking his head. His hair was slightly mussed now, and his expression was slightly more relaxed.

She had heard shifters held their liquor well, but maybe they varied slightly just like humans did.

He swayed slightly, planting both hands on the table. “Well. That’s done, then.”

“Oh no you don’t.” She pushed the bottle at him again. “Where I’m from, you haven’t even had a proper drink yet.”

He looked at the glass in dismay. “I see.”

“Come on. I danced with you. Now you drink with me.”

He sighed and then loosened his collar with a resolute expression on his face. “I suppose that’s fair. How much am I to drink?”

She shrugged. “‘Til you feel good, I guess.”

He shuddered. “I doubt that will ever be the case with this substance. As it is, I merely feel odd.”

Sylvie took in the sight of him as he finished the third glass, swaying slightly. Such a lightweight.

She smirked but took the bottle away from him as he reached out to pour another glass. “That’s enough for now. Don’t want you to fall off your seat.” He wouldn’t feel the full effects for another few minutes.

It wasn’t like her to ever encourage drinking. She didn’t really enjoy it that much and didn’t find it that healthy for her body.

But she really, really wanted to see a drunk dragon. Especially when it was this extremely uptight nerd whose glasses were now sliding crookedly down his nose.

He struggled to adjust them and then tossed them to the side.

Then he undid the top couple buttons on his shirt and pulled his tie off, leaving him looking deliciously debauched.

She decided to distract him while waiting for the booze to kick in. “So how does a nerd get to be so good at dancing?”

He blinked at her, then shook his head slightly. “I… Oh, that’s right. Back on Drakkaris, I wasn’t just head librarian. I was also in charge of the cataloguing and preservation of all our customs. Including dances.”

“Yeah, but last time I checked, waltzing wasn’t an intergalactic standard or anything.”

“True. But it reminds me of most of our dances back home. We have common ancestors, so it shouldn’t surprise me.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s natural that I gravitated toward it.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Not now.” His eyes met hers, frank and honest, and she felt herself go a little weak in the knees.

Or hell, molten with want.

He leaned back with a huff, and she could tell that the champagne was having an effect on him.

But if she expected a drunken Cobalt to look helpless and sweet, she was wrong.

If anything, there was now a clearly predatory look in his eyes, and he bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair with a slightly hungry expression.

“Okay, no more champagne for you.” She pulled the bottle away and set it as far as possible from him, along with his glass.

He looked only slightly disappointed. “Party pooper.”

She laughed. “I didn’t think you’d be so easy to get drunk.”

He narrowed intense blue eyes on her and ran his hand through his gray-blue hair, making it deliciously messy. “You don’t seem drunk at all.”

She shrugged, innocent. “Who knows?”

He grinned. “Then again, maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Why?” She scooted back slightly in her chair as he stood, walked around the table, and planted a hand right in front of her.

His spicy scent overwhelmed her, along with his sheer size. “Because I can do this.”

He leaned down and caught her lips in a deep kiss that tasted like sparkles and grapes and happiness, as sheer and floaty and delicious as those moments on the dance floor in his arms. Then his kiss grew darker, lustier, his tongue claiming entrance as she parted her lips and thrust her tongue against his.

He kept his hands on the table, but she wanted them on her. All over her. Ravishing her. She wanted to see the heat in his eyes as it translated to the bedroom.

She broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and looked into his eyes.

“You wanted to get me drunk and seduce me, didn’t you?” Cobalt asked, his voice hoarse.

She nodded slowly, a grin spreading over her face.

“Well, it worked.” And then before she knew what was happening, he scooped her up in his arms and started striding from the ballroom, looking more unleashed than she’d ever seen him. Like the constant bonds holding him had been cut, and she was seeing a part of him she’d never seen before.

Something she’d known was under there somewhere, waiting to be pulled out.

“Where are we going?” She wound her arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his wide chest against her with its prominent muscles.

He let out a little growl at her touch, not slowing at all as he took the stairs down to the basement. “My room.”