Page 13 of Rescued By The Dragon

One loose ebony curl fell against his square forehead, and when his gaze lowered to the dress in my hand, he smiled, a dimple denting his cheek.

“Hello, Little Mouse,” he said, his voice deep as I remembered.

I swallowed, stepped back against the wall, brought the dress to my chest, and watched him like a shy ten-year-old girl.

Dorran pushed from the wall, taking several steps toward me, he stopped a couple of feet away. His gaze lowered to mine, his scent overwhelming me.

Unable to stop myself, I looked at his giant black wings folded against his back. They were finely detailed, and for a moment, I thought to reach forward and touch them. What would they feel like? Velvet? “It’s rude to stare without speaking, Amara.”

“But it’s okay to break into someone’s home?” I bit my lower lip as soon as I said it. What was I doing? Dorran was The Dragon Prince. His dad ruled over this city.

I’d already broken a rule, and now I was back talking? Someone slap some sense into me.

“Hmm. The Little Mouse talks back. I’m shocked.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Dorran chuckled, and it lingered over my skin. “I’ve been waiting for you. I hope that your friend made sure you knew I want you to attend the ball, and that it's mandatory. I’m assuming this is your dress?”

He wanted me to come. The question of why was on my tongue, but I couldn’t gather the nerve to ask, so I nodded.

Dorran reached forward, sliding his fingertips against the satin fabric of my dress. “I love satin. My sheets are satin.”

Dear God. Imagining his sheets, and him in them, had my body temperature rising.

“Can I help you?” I said, feeling my throat grow dry.

Dorran lifted both brows. “I’m here to formally invite you, Ms. Amara, to the ball. You’ll be there?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Dorran reached forward and brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. The touch shot an electric current down my spine.

“Thank you for the mannequin, but I’m not sure why you gave it to me.”

Dorran tilted his head to the side. “Because I can’t have my date to the ball using that old thing to sew.”

Date to the ball? Was this some kind of joke? Had someone paid him? Bet him? None of it made sense.

“Your date?” I asked, staring down at his boots. “You’re in search of a mate—,”

Dorran chuckled, reached down, and lifted my chin so that I was staring at him. It felt unreal. The rough pads of his fingers against my soft skin were a contrast I couldn't get enough of. The way his tongue snaked across his lower lip was a silent invitation to taste them.

And my body wanted it so badly. Despite the situation, and his position in the city, I wanted him to put me out of my misery.

“I make the rules, Amara. I’ll be waiting for you on Friday. I’ll be wearing the tux,” his eyes lowered to my dress, “with the light blue tie.”

He left so quickly that I hadn't blinked before the window was shut behind him.

The cool September breeze wrapped around me again and disappeared. My legs gave out for a moment, and I slid down against the wall, cradling the dress to my chest, and trying to catch my breath.

Chapter Six

Dorran

“Mother is asking for you.”

Damien’s smug smile, and the fact he felt the need to be Mother’s errand boy were enough to piss me off.

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