Page 20 of Hot for the Dragon

"Like how every flower has its own perfect form?" The comparison slipped out before she could stop it.

His eyebrows rose. "Actually, yes." He shifted in his seat, those broad shoulders loosening as he warmed to the subject. "Each piece of wood has its own grain, its own... personality, I suppose."

Daphne's heart fluttered at this glimpse behind his walls. "What's your favorite wood to work with?"

"Cherry." The word came quickly, followed by a self-conscious cough. "It's challenging but rewarding. Takes a fine touch to bring out the natural luster."

"Like coaxing a stubborn rose to bloom." She smiled, recognizing the pride of a craftsman in his work.

His eyes met hers, something unguarded in their depths. "Exactly."

The café's buzz faded into background noise as he described his latest project, his voice growing animated. Daphne found herself captivated not just by his words, but by the way his whole demeanor transformed when speaking about his passion. The feared dragon shifter disappeared, replaced by an artist discussing his craft.

Those whispers from nearby tables seemed even more ridiculous now. How could anyone see this man, with his careful hands and thoughtful descriptions of wood grain patterns, as nothing but dangerous? Sure, he radiated power and authority, but there was also gentleness in how he spoke of his work.

"You're doing it again," he said, but this time his tone held more amusement than warning.

"Maybe I just like watching you talk about something you love." Those words slipped out of her mouth unbidden.

A faint color touched his cheeks, and he looked away, though not before she caught the pleased quirk of his lips.

Daphne watched Archer's gaze suddenly sharpen, his entire demeanor shifting from relaxed conversation to predatory focus in an instant. Following his line of sight, she spotted a tall man with white-blond hair stepping into Adam's jewelry store. His expensive suit practically screamed "trying too hard."

"That's our guy," Archer's voice dropped to a low rumble. "Ned."

Her heart picked up speed as she watched through the café window. Sure enough, minutes later, Ned emerged with the package they'd seen earlier, tucking it into his suit jacket.

"Time to move." Archer stood in one fluid motion. He pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table.

"I can pay for my half-" Daphne started to protest.

"We don't have time to argue about lunch money." His hand settled on the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. The casual touch sent tingles up her spine. "Besides, I'm old-fashioned that way."

She couldn't help but smile as they stepped outside.

Archer soon spotted Ned walking quickly up ahead. "Ned's heading east on Market Street. We need to keep our distance - he'll be watching for tails."

"Good thing you've got a witch who can make us look busy then." Daphne conjured a small bouquet of flowers, holding them between them like they were simply out shopping. "See? Just a couple on a romantic afternoon stroll."

Archer's eyebrows shot up, but she caught the ghost of a smile before he schooled his features back to serious. "Clever. But stay close - if this goes sideways, I need to be able to protect you."

The possessive note in his voice made her stomach flutter, even as she wanted to remind him she wasn't helpless. But now wasn't the time to argue.

10

ARCHER

Archer kept his distance as he and Daphne followed Ned through the winding streets. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows that made trailing their target easier, though Archer had to constantly slow his pace to match Daphne's shorter strides.

"Would you hurry up?" he whispered, tugging her behind a parked car as Ned glanced over his shoulder.

"Some of us don't have supernatural speed," Daphne shot back, stumbling against his chest. The light floral scent of her shampoo tickled his nose before she stepped away.

They tracked Ned to the edge of town where rows of identical orange storage units stretched out before them. The metal doors gleamed in the setting sun, numbers painted in black on each one. Ned approached unit 247, fumbling with his keys.

"Perfect," Archer muttered. His muscles tensed, ready for action.

"Wait." Daphne grabbed his arm. "We can't just barge in there. What if it's trapped? Or there are other dragons inside?"

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