Page 11 of Rescued By The Dragon

“We’ll go to the thrift shop downtown tomorrow after your shift. Can you leave early so the step-monster doesn’t bully you into cleaning the house top to bottom?”

“Possibly. I think they’re so busy getting ready for the ball that she won’t notice.”

“Good. We have to get you something sexy to wear.”

“It’s a ball, not a strip club. I need something elegant, and I can’t afford anything elegant.”

Sasha pursed her lips. “My sister is about your size. We’ll raid her closet. She doesn’t care, she’s married and not going to the ball.”

“I need to get back inside. We close soon, and I’m freezing.”

“Okay,” she said. “Text me when you get off. We need to discuss hair and makeup.”

“You know I hate makeup.”

“That’s because you don’t need it,” she said, winking at me. “Text me.”

I hurried back inside to end my shift, helping Frankie close the restaurant, and walking the short distance home. I had homework to do, employee applications to look over, and my body was in desperate need of a full night’s sleep.

The house was quiet when I made it home.

It looked like they went out of town for the night to look for dresses for the ball on Friday. They rarely left, but I was glad when they did.

Slipping off my shoes, I let my hair down and jogged up the stairs to my room. I swung the door open and halted in my tracks. In the corner of the room was a mannequin, and not my usual one.

My stepmother wouldn’t have got me one. I wasn’t even sure she realized I had one at all. Swallowing my nerves, I walked over, trailed my fingertips against the fabric, and inhaled.

It smelled ... like him.

It was the oddest thing.

Dragons had better senses than humans did, but I could nearly taste his scent.

It sent a puddle of desire down my body that pooled in my stomach.

Everything else looked in place. Nothing out of order, but he’d been here, who else would it have been?

Maybe Sasha was right. Maybe Dorran was interested in ... me?

My step-monster texted the next day and said that she wouldn’t make it home until late that afternoon.

Which meant I had a free evening to do as I pleased. No making dinner, or working at the diner.

It was a rarity that I wouldn’t take for granted.

Sasha tossed something over her shoulder, and I barely made it out of the way. “I swear, Stephanie is such a pig. I don’t know how she landed herself a man. If there was mud in this room, she’d roll around in it.”

I sat back on her unmade bed. Sasha wasn’t wrong. Stephanie wasn’t a tidy person in the least. A polar opposite of Sasha. She’d met her husband in high school, and they married shortly after she graduated college.

“Ah-ha!” she said, pulling out a silky baby blue gown with lace sleeves and a low-cut front.

My body flushed at the sight of it.

Sasha wiggled her brows. “It matches your eyes, Amara. Try it on. Try it on!” she said, helping me to stand, and shoving me toward the bathroom. “You’re going to look killer in this. I know you try to hide behind those big t-shirts of your dads, but you need to look like a woman on Friday.”

I closed the bathroom door and glanced down at the expensive fabric. Slowly, I began to undress, and I cleared my throat. “I think he came back to my room.”

Sasha swung the door open so quickly that my hair flew from my shoulders. “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

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