Page 5 of Draco's Defiance

Oliver had been bursting to get in there and sign the documents that would officially make him part of the family business, and yet the lawyer with the shapely hips had managed to tarnish the moment by rejecting his more than kind invitation.

Sure, she’d made it sound as though she was simply following the rules and keeping her boss happy, but Oliver wasn’t an idiot. He could tell that had only been a pretext to save his blushes. For some reason, the woman who’d drawn up his family’s contract thought she was too good for him.

Too good for me?

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but couldn’t remember being so offended for a long time. The worst of it was that the snub stirred the beast lurking within him.

Subdued by the family’s financial matters and the acquisition of his personal wealth, Oliver’s chimera had been mostly happy to sleep. Yet as the darkness fell, or when his emotions flared, the creature roused, stimulated by his flooding endorphins, adrenaline, or cortisol. He’d learned to control most of its base needs, but sometimes, there seemed little he could do to leash it.

Like Cherie. His thoughts flitted back to the other brunette who’d caught his eye of late. The pretty little thing had once worked for him, but when she’d quit in anger, it had been the chimera who’d reacted. He’d found her hiding out with the eldest Vaughn brother and snatched her away, keeping her as a captive in his basement until the annoying rival family had swung into action and rescued her.

“Those fricking Vaughns...” Anger bubbled inside him at the recollection. “I still have to take care of them.”

He’d never especially cared for Cherie, but losing her had put a serious dent in his ego, much the same way that Moira had done.

“Maybe Moira’s married?” Wandering to the side of the vast, glass-fronted building, he leaned against the window and avoided the glare of the sun as he strained his memory. He didn’t think he remembered her wearing a wedding ring, but even if she had been—so what? He still couldn’t fathom how or why any woman would have turned him down. How often did a woman like her get an offer from a man like him? Hell, Moira would never be able to enjoy a lunch he could afford on the miserly wage she earned. She was a fool if she thought she could do better than him.

Forget her.

The order pinballed around his head as he shielded his eyes from the light. At that time of the year, the sun was setting earlier in the day, which meant by the time he’d got back home, it would be almost dark.

Shaking his head with frustration, he blew out a breath. He’d just taken control of fifty percent of his father’s business. That was what was important. Who cared if one dumb woman had blown him off? There were countless others who’d be happy to see to his needs. Hell, he could call one of them up at that very moment if he chose to, so why let one little brunette bother him?

He didn’t know the answer as he stewed on the sting of rejection. All he knew was that he’d fancied a piece of Moira and hadn’t expected her to spurn him. It wasn’t an experience Oliver relished.

“Screw her.” His hiss was lost to the growing volume of voices as a group of people left Jeffries’ building. “Screw her opinion.”

Glaring in the direction of the hustle and bustle, he was ready to leave the whole sorry incident behind him until he noticed who was at the pack of the crowd. There, walking out of the building he’d just left and wriggling her ass so provocatively that he could have sworn she was doing it just to taunt him, was Moira.

His heart sped up as he watched her turn left and walk away, his feet moving to follow before he’d even had time to consciously decide what to do. Keeping his distance, he trailed behind, ensuring there were at least two other people between him and the object of his desire.

There was no specific ill intent as he paced behind her. No concrete plan or set objective. But Oliver recalled the thrill of holding Cherie as his hostage, and he’d learned a thing or two from his failure.

Perhaps Moira could take Cherie’s place? Perhaps she’d actually been keeping to company rules, after all, and secretly yearned for his attention?

“That would make sense.” He smiled at the only logical explanation for her refusal. No wonder she’d declined his offer if she was afraid of pissing off Jeffries and losing her job. The little people scuttling left and right of him had to work. It was what so-called normal people did. He had to remember that.

Still ahead of him, Moira paused. Slowing his strides in turn, he slipped behind an old telephone box so he could continue to survey her. Peering around, she was either lost or sensed that she was being followed, and frowning, she turned and strutted away.

“What are you doing, Moira?” He sniggered at her display of confusion, but deep down, he was impressed. Clearly, the woman’s instincts were sharp if she had any sense of his presence. That was to her credit, but it wouldn’t be enough to save her. Oliver had already decided that she was going to be his. He hadn’t enjoyed much pussy recently, and little Miss Lawyer would be just the tonic to end his dry spell.

He waited as she walked on and headed into a nearby establishment before rushing to join her. Oliver would give her one more chance to say yes and be his by choice.

After that, Moira would take what she was given.

Moira

HER PULSE WAS RACING as she stepped inside Berrunti’s and headed for the counter. The high-end bistro wasn’t somewhere she’d usually frequent, but as a chill ran along her spine, Moira realized she was out of choices.

Monroe’s son was following her. She was sure of it.

She thought she’d glimpsed him hanging around at the front of her workplace, but hadn’t given it any thought. Perhaps he had taken a call after leaving and was still talking when she left for lunch?

That thought had reassured her when she’d first caught sight of him on her tail. It was a public road, after all. Why shouldn’t he go the same way as her? Plenty of other people were. But when he’d ducked behind the telephone box and pretended not to be watching, real dread had started to set in.

She couldn’t think of any good reasons why he’d follow her, so acting on instinct, she’d opted to enter the first decent-looking place she could find. If she was going to confront him about the odd and disconcerting behavior, then it was better to do so in a safe place with plenty of other patrons. Looking around, Berrunti’s seemed to fit the bill. Despite the later than normal hour, many of the tables were filled, which meant there were ample witnesses if Oliver decided to try anything he shouldn’t.

Waiting in the long line at the counter, she cast an eye over the board of specials, trying not to glance anxiously behind her. Had he walked in and joined her, or was he still watching from the street? Standing in the queue, Moira couldn’t decide which option sounded less ominous.

---