Dragon's Omega Bride (Shifter Marriage Service 3)

“How about you? No great loves?”

“No. None.”

“I find that hard to believe, a beautiful Omega like yourself?”

“I told you about my family. I’m a pariah in my community. Only a few of the alphas there will even associate with me and none of them romantically. I think that, at first, I saw myself as a spinster, like one of those women from decades ago that remained single past the young marrying age of those around them. Then, I realized that I was okay with that and wanted to do other things with my life. I was saving up to get out of there even before things went wrong.”

“What is it that you want to do?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“It’s hardly glamorous. I want to be an accountant, like my father. I’m great with numbers and love the smell of an old ledger.”

“An honest profession. You do realize though, that most people use electronics these days? I doubt you’ll be working from those gridded pages beneath the light of some little green banker’s lamp.”

“I know, but it’s like reading books. People adore being able to fit a whole electronic library in their purse, but they still go to the library to feel and smell the old books.”

“I haven’t been in a library in ages,” he said, almost wistfully.

“We should go one day.”

“We should,” he replied, his gaze falling on her once again depleted glass.

“Shall I get us another bottle or do we call it a night?”

“I think another bottle is in order.”

“Be right back,” he said, hopping up and jogging out of the study as if to retrieve it before she changed her mind.

Aileen could hear his footsteps down the hallway, clicking against the cold stone floors beneath them. She realized that he was humming some little upbeat tune as he went, and it made her smile.

Perhaps Yakov wasn’t the pillar of stone she had made him out to be, after all.CHAPTER TWELVEBy the time they finished the second bottle of wine, they were both laughing and sharing more uplifting stories. Aileen was surprised at just how much of a sense of humor Yakov had. He always seemed so serious about everything. He glanced at his watch and grimaced.

“It’s almost five A.M. We best get to bed,” he told her.

Aileen hated to leave, but he was right. They had talked for hours and though she had no real plans other than working at her own place for a while today, she was sure he had work to do before they left for their weekend from which they would return pretending to have gotten married.

She stood up and turned to walk to the door, her feet getting a bit tangled as she did so. Her body lurched forward before she could stop herself and she prepared for the humiliation of hitting the floor, but Yakov was lightning fast. He caught her in his arms and pulled her upright with a smile.

“Easy girl,” he laughed.

“I’m such a klutz,” she said as her face flushed a vivid crimson.

“And maybe a little too much wine?”

She smiled, well aware that he was still holding her. She was also aware that he wasn’t letting her go. The wine, in all actuality hadn’t hit her very hard since she’d only had one glass at the party and had paced herself while drinking with him. She was a little buzzed, but that was about it. Mainly, she was very in tune with how it felt to be in his arms.

She started to pull away, but he was still holding on to her. Instead of letting her go, he pulled her closer. His head tilted down toward hers, one hand slipping upward to cup her chin and raising it so that her lips met his. She stopped moving backwards, instead leaning in further, letting him kiss her . . . letting him in. They quickly became lost in one another, but it ended as quickly as it started as he pulled away, looking horrified.

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. Maybe I’m the one who has had too much wine,” he said.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t protesting,” she admitted.

He looked at her, no doubt noting how flushed she still was.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said, scooping her up and carrying her effortlessly up the stairs to her bedroom.

His hands were like velvet on her skin, amazingly soft as he slipped away her dress effortlessly and caressed her skin beneath. Every spot he touched sent shock waves through her, titillating her to the core. His lips met hers again, drinking her in, tasting her completely. Perhaps she was a bit tipsy, her inhibitions greatly reduced, but she felt brazen.

It was unlike her to sleep with someone outside of a relationship. She had always been one who wanted more than a roll in the hay, a good time. That wasn’t to say that she had never had a fling or a one night stand, but she had always preferred to be alone than to have meaningless sex with strangers. This though, this was different. Yakov wasn’t exactly a stranger, but he wasn’t someone she could love either. He was moody, brooding and cold.