Mated to the Earth Dragon (Elemental Mates 2)

Then the reporters came forward, clearly overjoyed at the chance to get a picture of the mysterious billionaire protecting the artist.

“Jeff!” Naomi called out, frustrated by the way he’d yet again used her success to orchestrate this ridiculous PR event for his gallery.

But Jeff didn’t answer. As the reporters came crowding closer, she couldn’t even see him anymore. Hadn’t he been right beside her a moment ago?

“Wait a moment—here!” Gregory said triumphantly, still pressed so close that she could feel the heat of his body.

He reached out behind here. There was a sudden click—and then something opened, and she found herself pushed through into what was revealed to be a tiny storage room, crammed full of boxes.

Another storm of flashes was let loose, and Gregory firmly pulled the door close behind them.

And just like that, everything was dark.

She could still hear the sounds of the journalists outside. The door was rattling now, but fortunately there was a key on the inside, which Gregory used to lock it.

It wouldn’t surprise me if the room has a key because Jeff’s having an affair with that new secretary of his, Naomi thought, and then her mind fell silent when she became aware that she was trapped in a cramped space with the most incredibly handsome and charismatic man she’d ever seen.

A man who was forced to stand so close, thanks to the towering stacks of wooden boxes, that her breasts were brushing against his chest.

Naomi felt herself flush, glad of the darkness now.

“I’m sorry,” Gregory murmured. “That wasn’t how I imagined our meeting would go.”

“Oh?” she said lightly, trying to hide the fact that her heart was hammering in her chest. “And do you do this often? Spend ridiculous amounts of money on unsuspecting artists?”

He laughed softly. She shivered again at the way she could feel his breath against her cheek.

“I do collect... and you could say that I have a special interest in dragons. But it’s mostly the older masters. Medieval works too. You know, back when people still thought dragons were real.”

“So mine is an exception?” She swallowed, barely daring to breathe, simultaneously afraid and excited by the way her body kept brushing his in the tiny space.

“It is.” He spoke very softly, although his voice was earnest. “I don’t know how to explain it, but in your painting I saw the same emotion I see in those older paintings.”

“Back when people thought dragons were real.” She felt herself smile at the thought. “I guess you could say that for one night, that dragon was real for me. When I painted him, it was as if I saw him. His power. His joy. His command of the elements. There was something so primeval about him, something ancient. He was the storm. He was freedom.”

Gregory drew in a shuddering breath.

Then someone rattled at the door handle, and Naomi flinched instinctively. A moment later, she became aware of the heat of Gregory’s arm that had wrapped protectively around her shoulder. It was too dark to see him, but she could still feel the heat of his breath.

“Ignore them,” he murmured. “They’ll leave when they get bored.”

“I assume you’re very familiar with being stalked by reporters.” She didn’t move, her heart beating in her throat at the way his arm hadn’t dropped away either.

It was nice. More than nice. When was the last time a man had embraced her?

With the way her life had gone to hell, she hadn’t even thought about dating in quite a while. Perhaps she was only feeling like this because it had been so very long... But something about him felt strangely familiar.

The scent of the night air clung to him, something wild and daring and adventurous. And beneath it all, there was a warm sensuality that seemed to whisper that he would protect her from any storm.

Freedom. It felt like freedom, being held in his arms.

All of a sudden, she saw possibilities opening up again before her.

It wasn’t just the money. But with the money she could pay her rent, and she wouldn’t have to worry for at least a year. She could go out and see a movie with a friend if she wanted. She could paint again. She could even try and date.

But with Gregory so close, all she could think of was the way his body felt against hers.

Was he interested too? Or maybe this was all just in her mind, and this was an everyday occurrence to him. He probably got stalked by reporters wherever he went, and hid in closets all the time, and he probably had beautiful women throw themselves at him...