Page 39 of Dragon His Heels
In reality, she couldn’t leave, and she damn well knew it. First, there was Ruby to think about. Second, she had a responsibility to this colony. She was the reeve’s PR manager, and even if that meant she worked for Gabe, it was still a commitment, and Talia did not shirk her duties. Never had, never would. How many times had she been called a Goody-Two-Shoes back in school?
Shoot, Gabe called her that. And she’d always considered it a compliment.
Now she wished her scruples were slightly lower, because how the hell was she supposed to deal with the man, knowing he had lied to her?
Your morals aren’t that high, her dragon whispered in a sly tone.
Damn it all, this never would have happened if she hadn’t shifted for Ruby’s enjoyment that day he’d taken off to fly alone. That was when it all started—when they’d both been in dragon form and had somehow communicated telepathically.
She was such an idiot for not realizing. And he was an asshole for not telling her.
The sound of the front door opening and closing drifted up to her.
“Gabe, are you here?” Julian, the housekeeper, called out. He was a young dragon with more energy than anyone had a right to have. He was perfect for the job of cleaning the reeve’s mansion.
Talia turned away from the bed that held memories she’d loved and now loathed, and headed out into the hall to greet Julian. When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped and stared at the person with him in the foyer below.
Jasmine.
She wore a shapeless cotton gown at least three sizes too big, her green eyes huge in her gaunt, too-thin face. Her hair hung in unwashed clumps, and the track marks on her arms almost looked like tattoos. But other than that, the resemblance to Ruby was striking. Too much so.
“Oh, Talia, hey,” Julian said, relief evident in his voice. “This lady said she was here to see you, actually.” His gaze darted from woman to woman, like he knew this wasn’t a positive, warm fuzzy meeting and he wasn’t at all sure what he was supposed to do.
“Thanks, Julian. I’ve got this,” Talia said without tearing her gaze away from the emaciated woman standing in the doorway, scratching her arm and looking as uncomfortable as a person possibly could. “Um, how about you start up here?” she suggested to the housekeeper as she made her way down to deal with this latest issue.
“You got it,” he said, and he rushed past her without a backward glance.
“Come on,” Talia said flatly when she reached the foyer, waving at the hallway leading to the kitchen. Without bothering to make sure her guest followed, she headed in that direction. Jasmine, she noticed, hadn’t even brought a suitcase. Of course, she hadn’t checked into rehab with anything but the clothes on her back, so Talia supposed that shouldn’t be surprising.
“Coffee?” Talia offered when they were in the kitchen. “Or maybe actual food?”
“Food would be good,” Jasmine said, her voice tiny, weak.
Talia had the urge to pour herself a drink, despite the early hour, but probably not a good idea in front of a drug addict. Instead, she gave Jasmine a glass of orange juice and then set to work making a sandwich. No, two. She didn’t look any better than when Talia found her, passed out on the floor of a drug house, actually.
“They released you already?” she finally asked when she slid the plate of food in front of the other woman.
Jasmine lifted one of the sandwiches and took a hefty bite, shaking her head. After swallowing, she replied, “I checked out on my own. Didn’t know I could, until one of the other patients told me.”
“Why? And why are you here?”
This time, Jasmine talked around a mouthful of food. “I don’t need that place. And you have my daughter.”
Talia crossed her arms. “I’m not giving her back to you. You’re sick, Jasmine. You need help. You can’t have her until you’re well again.” If then. As quickly as Gabe bonded with the little girl, she doubted he would be willing to give her up again. Especially now that he’d decided she was his heir. Not to mention, if Jasmine thought she was taking that child back to the Rojo colony, there was no way in hell Talia—or Gabe—would let that happen.
“Besides,” Talia added, “she’s happy here. She’s adjusted really well, given the short timeframe. The really short timeframe.”
“I haven’t used since that day.”
“That day was only a week ago.” Had it really been only a week? So much had happened, had changed.
“It’s been more than a week,” Jasmine argued. “A week and a half, actually.”
“Whatever,” Talia grumbled. “And by the way, you asked me to come. You told me to take Ruby.”
Jasmine’s gaze dropped to her plate. She picked at the sandwich. Ham, cheddar, mustard, and mayo, with a single lettuce leaf. Exactly the way she used to like it. Before she left the colony and started on the downward spiral that led her to the rehab facility she’d just checked herself out of. “I was wrong. I-I never should have called you. We were fine.”
Talia’s jaw dropped to her chest. She snapped it closed and said, “No, you weren’t. When I got there, you were comatose. There’s a very real possibility you might have died if I hadn’t found you. And then what the hell would have happened to Ruby? Huh?”
