I broke the kiss reluctantly, watching warily as Daniel's silver eyes came back into focus, a faint flicker of hesitation disappeared before I could be sure I'd really seen it.
"Daniel, I…"
He held up a hand of warning, silencing me. "Clara," his voice was a deep, raspy growl. "For once, please don't say anything." There was a scowl on his handsome face which somehow seemed less fearsome now.
I reached up to trace the furrow between Daniel's eyebrows as he frowned and I smiled up into his eyes softly. "Your place or mine?"
The smile that lit his face was breathtaking, the transformation remarkable; the Dragon looked ten years younger. He leaned down to plant another dizzying kiss on me. "I live around the corner."
Nodding, I wordlessly scooped up our drawings and my purse and followed Daniel from the building, waiting patiently with trembling knees as he locked up.
In the parking lot he eyed my beat-up old Jeep with trepidation before reaching out his hand towards me.
"What?" I asked guardedly.
"Keys," he growled.
"What about
your
car?" I looked around the empty parking lot questioningly.
"I walked. Keys."
"Fine." With a sigh of frustration I handed them over.
Daniel drove my temperamental Jeep like he'd been doing it for years, getting the hang of the sticky clutch before we'd gone a block. I wondered vaguely if he tackled everything in life with the same smooth, effortless skill.
My blood began to cool slightly, leaving my mind racing; panic began to creep in at the edges. Was I actually going home with the Dragon? I glanced sidelong at Daniel; he was stonily composed, nothing showing on his handsome face. What the hell was going on in
his
head?
"You're over-thinking this, aren't you?" Daniel asked with a sarcastic drawl, arching an eyebrow enquiringly.
"N-no," I sputtered defensively, feeling very young all of a sudden. I'd never gone home with a guy I didn't know, never mind an older co-worker who I could have sworn hated me an hour ago; but the quivering anticipation didn't dull even as we pulled to a stop and Daniel shut off my Jeep. He turned towards me to hand back my keys; our eyes met and the desire flared again in a wave so strong it stole my breath.
Daniel lived in an amazing art deco high-rise, but his firm grip on my elbow propelled me forward before I had time to gawk at the luxurious exterior or sumptuous lobby. There was an attractive, blond man who got on the elevator with us; he looked to be about thirty-five and judging by his expensive suit, successful. Of course, to live in Daniel's building I was thinking you'd have to be.
He smiled flirtatiously at me before turning to Daniel. "Sutcliffe." His greeting was short and dripped with contempt.
"Mallory." Daniel answered, not even looking at the man, but keeping his eyes firmly glued to the elevator door as we lurched into motion.
"Who's your friend?"
Daniel still had his hand on the back of my arm and he squeezed it reassuringly; his thumb rubbed distractingly across my skin, but he said nothing. I didn't like the way the other man was eying me, but Daniel's silence pissed me off; I wasn't sure if he genuinely didn't care to enlighten the blond man, or if he was ashamed of me.
"I'm Clara Kovacs," I held out my hand and the blond man shook it, flashing me with another bright, but ineffectual smile. "Daniel and I work together."
"Lawrence Mallory." He let his gaze run up and down my body and I fought to suppress a shudder of disgust at the blatant appraisal. "I didn't know you had a secretary, Daniel."
Daniel's eyebrow shot up and he turned to Mallory with a sneer. "She's
not
my secretary. She's an architect, and a damn good one." His voice was low and dangerous.
The other man seemed nonplussed and dismissed Daniel with a wave of a manicured hand. "Sure thing, Sutcliffe; whatever you say."
Beside me I could feel Daniel tense, his nerves drawn taut. The elevator door binged cheerfully and came to a smooth stop on the eleventh floor. Lawrence Mallory shot me another flirtatious smile and passed me his business card. I scowled.
"Anytime you want to get together with a real man Sweetheart, you just give me a call."
Daniel took a threatening step forward, but the elevator door slid closed as Mallory chuckled. Daniel whirled around to face me, his expression stormy. "You should not have spoken to him."
"I beg your pardon?" I asked sardonically, still affronted by Lawrence Mallory's cheek. "You're actually going to tell me who I can and cannot speak to?" Personally, I had no desire to ever see the blond man again, but Daniel's possessiveness irked me; he had no right.
Daniel stood towering over me, his grip on my upper arm becoming painful. "I do think I know what's best," he growled.
"You can't be serious! I'm a grown woman Daniel, despite what you may think. And I
can
take care of myself."
"Not if you're going to call that prick." Daniel snapped, his eyes flashing silver. He grabbed the business card from my hand and tearing it in two, threw it over his shoulder.
"Thanks, Daniel. But I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions." I could feel my temper spark at the Dragon's arrogance.
Daniel moved even closer, his mouth hovering over mine, his face was twisted with anger, but it made him look more handsome knowing I was the cause of this little bout of jealousy. It gave me a small feeling of power, knowing how irritated Daniel was that another man had shown interest in me. I smiled coyly, tilting my chin up further. "I wonder if he's busy later tonight? Maybe I
will
call Mr. Mallory…"
The look on Daniel's face told me immediately that I'd gone a step too far; his anger melted away to reveal the stony, blank expression I'd seen in his office earlier that day and it was infinitely more intimidating than his anger ever was.
"Like hell you will," he spit out; and grasping the back of my head forcefully, Daniel kissed me.
Every cell in my body seized up, winded by the ferocity of Daniel's kiss and the sudden jolt of desire that raced through me. I moaned loudly and held on to his arms to keep from falling. He plundered recklessly, his tongue hot, his breathing ragged; as if from far away I could feel the elevator slide to another stop. A musical bing preceded the opening of the door and the faint chill of air from the hallway as it rushed into the stifling heat of the small space of the elevator. Daniel and I broke apart as a small, elderly woman stood open-mouthed in the doorway.
"Mrs. Goldstein," Daniel drawled smoothly, taking me by the elbow again and ushering me past the stunned woman. "Have a good night."
I could feel her eyes follow us down the hall.
Daniel practically shoved me into his apartment, his mouth set in a grim line. My heart was beating rapidly, the thrumming in my ears from his possessive kiss dying down only as Daniel stripped off his jacket and shoes and stood waiting while I did the same.
"Fuck." He muttered, striding past me into his apartment; silently I followed. "Now the whole fucking building is going to know."
I could feel my anger rise again. "What's wrong with that?" I asked sharply. "You're not ashamed of me, are you?"
"No Clara, I'm not ashamed of you." His voice sounded suddenly old, tired; Daniel sighed. "I just hate gossip. And that old biddy will tell everyone. By tomorrow morning they'll all be talking."
Smiling faintly I crossed the living room to stand beside Daniel as he stood glaring out the huge window onto his balcony. The lights of the city beyond threw his handsome face into relief, etching the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw with a dim glow. He was such a study in contradictions; tough-talking and rude one moment, passionate and masterful at times, and weary and irresolute the next. I touched his arm hesitantly; not at all sure what he really wanted from me.
"Let them talk," I suggested, not wanting to hide the teasing grin which had snuck across my face. "I suspect you've given them so little to talk about over the years. So they'll know you have some young thing up here, who cares?"
Daniel stood stock still, no emotion betrayed on his chiselled face; I had to admit to myself that he frightened me. How much did I really know about the Dragon? He was a damn good architect, that much was evident; but outside of his professional life I knew absolutely nothing about him. I guessed he wasn't quite old enough to be my father, but he was definitely over forty. Personally I liked the little creases around his grey-blue eyes and the smattering of grey hair at his temples. I'd always been attracted to older men, but had never done anything about it.
At twenty-nine you'd think I would know more about men; but honestly, I don't. I have had exactly three boyfriends since high school, which means that I've slept with exactly three men, and one was so awful it shouldn't count. Calling my past boyfriends 'men' hardly qualified either; Craig was a bass player in a band, didn't have a real job, and lived with his mother; Andy made cappuccinos at my local café, fancied himself a writer, and lived with his mother; Victor was an artist with a show at the local gallery, a bevy of admiring female followers, and lived with his mother.
"What are you thinking about?" Daniel asked gruffly, shocking me from my reverie; no one had ever asked me that before. His body was a solid wall of warmth beside me and together we looked out over the dark city skyline. The view from Daniel's apartment was amazing.
"I was thinking you're the first man I've been with who didn't still live with his mother." I tried to hide my smile, but failed.
It must not have been the answer Daniel was expecting to hear; his laugh was abrupt and sharp, as if it had been forced from his chest. He coughed, laughing and shaking his head.
"What were
you