The human looked like she was about to say something, but then shut her mouth and nodded. He motioned to the doorway off to the side. “The kitchen is in there. Come back as soon as you’ve heated your food.”
She gave a mock salute and walked toward the door. For the first time, he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Not only that, her exaggerated hip sway had been replaced with an efficient stride.
The fake seductress had all but disappeared.
Not that he was sad about it. But rather than think too hard about why he liked the changes, he sat down in front of the computer screen and read the first sentence:
At the presend rime, the Carlide hunters numver avout forty.
Rubbing the late-day whiskers on his face, Bram could see what Arabella had meant about deciphering the typos. Reading Evie’s notes was going to take three times as long as normal.
With a sigh, Bram went to work.
~~~
As the smell of curry filled the kitchen, Evie’s stomach rumbled and she tapped her spoon against the counter in impatience. By now, Bram had to have noticed the plethora of typos in her document. Would he really make her wait until he finished it all before he told her if he would take her on as his mate or not?
Uncertainty was not her forte. Since Evie had been a little girl, she’d always planned out her life: earn good marks, go to university, and work her way up the Department of Dragon Affairs until she could be the Director.
Now, however, all of that planning was irrelevant. All that mattered was staying alive, and everything else would have to wait.
Living in such uncertainty simultaneously scared and irritated her.
Get over it, Evi
e. She’d dealt with plenty of uncertainty in her job as a DDA inspector; she would just have to use those experiences toward her personal life as well.
The microwave beeped. The sound was a welcome interruption of her thoughts.
For now, she’d focus on eating. Who knew, maybe by the time she’d finished, Bram might have answers for her. Then she could figure out what to do next.
She removed the leftover korma curry before carrying it to the kitchen doorway. Pausing a moment, she took advantage of the situation and simply watched Bram at the computer.
Without his glare or dominance crap, he looked like just a man. Sure, a fit man with broad shoulders, defined muscled arms, and a very lickable-looking tattoo on one of his biceps. Yet with his slightly too long hair brushing against his ears as he leaned over the laptop screen, all she wanted to do was walk over and tuck his hair back behind his ears. She had a feeling no one ever looked after him; being clan leader was a demanding and lonely job.
According to DDA records, Bram worked the hardest out of the five dragon-shifter clans in the UK to pass all of their inspections. Stonefire had by far the least amount of sacrifice-related complaints. Yet despite all of his hard work, Bram’s infertility assured that he would never have a female sacrifice of his own. Hell, he might not ever have a mate. Everything he did screamed how he wanted his clan’s numbers to rebuild and his infertility would hinder his goal.
Of course, Evie would never be able to give him a child anyway since her DNA wasn’t compatible with dragon-shifter sperm. When she’d been nineteen and obsessed with everything dragon-shifter, she’d been tested.
She hoped that would work to her advantage since Bram wouldn’t have to feel guilty about taking a likely mother-to-be away from his clan.
At one time, she’d wanted children of her own, but she was far more concerned about living than reproducing.
She probably would’ve continued staring if Bram’s voice hadn’t interrupted her thoughts. “You’re not eating.”
Standing back up, she then moved to stand next to him. As soon as his eyes met hers, she raised the spoon to her lips and took a bite.
Bram’s eyes darted to her lips, and that odd heat and awareness shot through her body.
Bloody hell. Since when was eating curry a turn on?
After swallowing the spoonful, she asked, “So? Do you have a verdict yet?”
The heat vanished from his eyes and was replaced by a wry look. “Where did you learn to type, lass? Even if I were blinded right this instant, I could do better.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I type fast and make mistakes. It happens. Now, stop trying to change the subject and just tell me straight what you plan to do.”
He looked pointedly at her curry and she let out a sigh before taking another bite. Only once she swallowed did he stand up and look down at her. Without her heels on, he towered even more over her. The man was huge.