Page 26 of The Dragon Recruit
He cleared his throat. “You’ll laugh.”
“I promise not to.”
While vows were more iron-clad for dragon-shifters, Antony decided to risk it. “Pets.”
She blinked. “Pets?”
“I can’t have one with my line of work. So I paint them instead and leave the canvases around London for people to find.”
He waited for her to laugh. Because, really, it was ridiculous. Antony was privy to the most classified information in the country, commanded a team with few limits, and could kill a man before he even knew of his presence.
And yet, he enjoyed painting cats and dogs and birds in silly situations and watching as people found them. Usually, they smiled or laughed. The ones who destroyed them often had bad luck later on.
Completely by coincidence, of course.
Iris still had her hand on his arm and squeezed. “That’s kind of sweet, aye? I can’t have pets, either, because of my job. But I do have…”
She looked away, and Antony raised a hand to gently force her gaze back. “Have what? If I can tell you about painting puppies, you can tell me anything.”
After biting her bottom lip for a few seconds—which Antony struggled not to stare at—she answered, “I had a cat as a wee lass, and later, once she passed, I got a stuffed animal that looks like her. I still have it.”
“If you have a picture of your cat, I can paint something for you.”
She frowned. “You’re not going to tease me about it? Only one person ever found out about my stuffed animal, and he never let me live it down.”
“Tell me his name and he’ll never bother you again.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious or joking.”
“Oh, I’m serious. No one should make you embarrassed for loving someone, be it a pet or person.”
Antony had gone through that with his late fiancée. His colleagues had teased him about being smitten, and being young and stupid, he’d taken risks. Unnecessary risks that had ended up getting Lisa killed.
Iris’s voice snapped him back to the present. “What were you just thinking about? Because pain briefly flashed in your eyes.”
Bloody hell.Did he forget all of his training around this dragonwoman?
His phone chimed, and he quickly took it out to check. “Right, memory lane will have to wait. We need to leave in the next ten minutes or we won’t arrive at our destination whilst it’s still dark. Come on. There’s a changing room with some stuff for you next door.”
He turned and walked off to the side. Part of him wanted Iris to push and ask him uncomfortable questions about his past, and the other part wanted her to drop it.
And so when she remained quiet and eventually went into the changing room as instructed, he wondered why he felt a little bit sad.
Get it together.Emotions were nothing but trouble. Be it pride, love, or fear—any of those could get someone killed.
With that thought, Antony recited focusing exercises inside his mind, to get it together. By the time Iris emerged wearing protective gear that looked like any other pair of jeans and sweater, Antony merely nodded and motioned for her to follow. He needed to get to the Peak District before sunrise, and he’d be damned if he missed the window of arrival because of a woman.
As soon as they were on the road and Iris had been allowed to take off her blindfold—no doubt to hide the exact location of the facility—she studied Antony’s profile. Earlier, he’d seemed so…vulnerable. When embarrassment had flashed across his features while talking about his paintings, it’d made her pause and blurt out something personal, too.
Why had she told him about Fluffy the Cat?
And why, oh why, had she bothered to touch him? She could still feel the strong, lean muscles of his arm beneath her fingers.
Her dragon spoke up.You remember because you want him to touch us some more. Especially after learning he’s not the arsehole-y superhero of ice like you thought before.
I still can’t believe he paints pets. And then leaves them for people to find.
You have a stuffed animal cat. It’s not that hard to imagine.
