Mated To The Dragon Of Manhattan (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) (18 page)

I gasped, outraged. "How dare-"

"Truman will be calling
my
name. I bet he's even been fantasizing about me becoming reacquainted with his rod already. Maybe he was even doing it while he gave me my own personal tour of the throne room today. When he was also probably imagining how hot I'll look sitting right beside him in a little throne of my own."

"You're sick. You're really delusional. You're-"

"Almost making myself a little horny just talking about Truman." She threw her head back and laughed. "God, I shouldn't have said that about his big rod of steel. The visual in my mind is just a bit too stimulating, if you get what I mean, and I'm sure you do. Though, like I said, your days of enjoying that rock-hard meat pole of his are soon to be over, and mine are soon to resume. And in fact, I'll even bet you that I'm back in bed with Truman by New Nation Day."

New Nation Day was a huge national holiday celebrating the day when the dragon shifters had taken leadership of the country after World War Two. And it was coming up in just a couple of weeks, right before Truman and I were supposed to have had our wedding, before we'd had to reschedule it because of the Matthew situation.

Just then, the elevator came to stop on the fifty-ninth floor, and Mara hiked her bag up on her shoulder, smirking.

"Well, this has been
so
fun, but that's me. Enjoy the rest of your day, Brette! Bye!"

The elevator doors opened, and she dashed out, her red high heels that matched her short red miniskirt clicking on the tile floor. I thought about how much Truman loved the color red. I thought about how much he loved to see me wearing it. Especially when it came to red skirts and red high heels. I wondered if he'd admired Mara's red skirt and red high heels while he'd been giving her the tour of the throne room earlier that day. I wondered if he'd also admired her very curvy, very full rear in that short red skirt. I wondered if he'd had any thoughts about any activities he'd used to enjoy while also enjoying a view of that very curvy, very full rear without a skirt covering it. Or anything else.

And suddenly, after the elevator doors had closed and I began once again ascending, I burst into tears. And then, to my horror, after only rising maybe eight or ten floors, the elevator stopped to let more people in. People who were staring at my tear-stained face. I pushed past them all and flew out of the elevator.

Fortunately, the elevator had stopped on a floor that usually wasn't very bustling or busy or populated by very many people. And once I'd walked past a few clusters of people near the elevator bay while trying not to cry any more, I saw that this was the case today. There weren't many destinations on this floor, and certainly none very exciting. There was a package shipping center, a dentist's office, several temporarily vacant retail spaces waiting for the new tenants to move in, and a cafe that was nearly always empty, as there were dozens of other cafes with better offerings in the building. And it was by this cafe that I stopped, tears streaming down my face again, and slumped against a wall. And being that there didn't appear to be anyone in the cafe or even anyone near me in the corridor outside, I figured this was as good a place as any to let it all out.

I cried with my face in my hands for at least a minute or two. I cried because of the nasty, spiteful things Mara had said to me. I cried because she obviously seemed to have very intimate knowledge of my fiancé’s anatomy, and that bothered me. I cried because of my disappointment about the fact that Truman and I had had to change our wedding date. I cried because Mara had thought the reason the wedding had been postponed was because Truman was losing interest in me and wanted to rekindle a relationship with
her
. But I stopped crying abruptly when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I whirled around and gasped when I saw who it was. "Matthew!"

*

Matthew frowned, surveying my face. "What's wrong, Brette? When I was leaving the dentist's office, I thought I saw you crying, coming out of the elevator, and I just about flew through the corridors to find you. Are you okay?"

My plan to draw some information out of him wasn't set to begin until the next day. Although, I figured, maybe now was as perfect a time as any, especially since I wasn't entirely sure if I'd be able to cry on command, like I thought I probably should when telling him my
cover story
. But now, since I was already crying real, actual tears, I wouldn't even need to.

I shook my head. "No. No, I'm not okay."

His pale blue eyes radiated concern. "Why? What's wrong?"

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "It's that witch, Mara Miller. I think...." I took a deep breath and just went for it. "I think Truman might be cheating on me with her."

Matthew frowned, drawing his dark blonde brows together. "No."

I nodded, sniffling. "Yes, I think he really is. And Mara just caught me in the elevator, and the things she said to me...."

More tears began streaming down my face, and I wiped them away.

"She said the cruelest, nastiest things. She implied that Truman has fallen back in love with her, and she said that he and I are never going to get married, because she's going to steal him away from me first. She even bet she's going to do it by New Nation Day."

Matthew drew his dark blonde brows even closer together. "And yet, Truman continues to spend time with her, even knowing that she's cruel to you?"

I opened my mouth to say no, but then immediately remembered that I was
acting
. At least, kind of. About some things, anyway.

I nodded. "Yes. He just doesn't seem to care. He hardly seems to care at all about me lately. He hasn't even been...intimate with me very much recently, and I think it's because he's been spending his...energy on
her
."

I was sort of surprising myself how much I was getting into my new role. My new role as an
actress
, which I thought sounded better than
liar
.

"Truman doesn't even seem to care that I'm...a bit unsatisfied lately."

That was the biggest
actress
line I'd delivered yet.

Matthew shook his head, frowning so hard he was nearly scowling. "Annabelle told me a few days ago that you and Truman were having some kind of difficulties she wasn't too sure about, so I knew something was up, but I never dreamed things had gotten this bad." He took a little step closer to me, his hand still on my shoulder. "And forgive me for saying, Brette, if this is a bit too personal, and I only say this as a friend, but...it seems like an actual crime to me that a woman like you should be unsatisfied in the intimacy department, for any length of time, ever." He lowered his voice to a husky whisper, his icy blue eyes looking straight into mine. "And if you were
my
fiancé, I'd make sure that you never, ever were. I'd make sure that you were intimately satisfied, at all times, no matter what, and it would be my own complete pleasure to do so."

A rush of heat that I just couldn't help rose to my cheeks. Matthew wasn't an unattractive man at all, and in fact, he was actually quite handsome. He was tall and well-built, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, like Truman's. He honestly probably had the best body I'd seen on any man in his forties before in my life. And that, combined with what he'd said, had the maybe understandable effect of making me just a little warm and flustered. But before I could give any sort of response verbally, he gave my shoulder a little squeeze.

"Sorry if that was a little over the line. I shouldn't have said it. It's just that as your friend, I care about you, and it upsets me that Truman isn't appreciating you like you should be appreciated. It really is a crime, and I can't imagine what he's thinking."

Beginning to feel very at ease in my new
acting
role, I suddenly moved a hand to cover Matthew's. "Thank you. Thank you for being my friend, and for being there for me about this. I guess I'm just realizing that I've needed to talk to someone about this and just let it all out. I've just been so...just, miserable lately, but I haven't exactly been able to talk to Annabelle or Brianna about everything that's been happening, because I guess I've just been a little embarrassed. It's sort of hard to get the words out that you think your fiancé might be cheating on you while you're currently planning this big, lavish, royal wedding. Which Truman has now pushed forward because...." I thought about how our wedding was going to be delayed because of Matthew, and another genuine tear slid down my cheek. "Because Truman's probably cheating on me with Mara and probably wants to have a little more fun with her before our wedding."

Matthew wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb, letting the touch linger a little, I thought. "Then, he's an absolute fool. And I realize I shouldn't even say that, being that Truman is my very dear friend and lord of this nation, but I can hardly help myself. This all just seems like complete insanity to me. Especially when there are so many men...so very many men, even just in this tower alone, who would kill to have you as a fiancé and a wife? So many men who would literally kill just to share your bed."

I knew he wasn't kidding about the
literally kill
part.

He suddenly sighed, giving my shoulder another squeeze. "I apologize again. My caring for you as a friend is making me say things with probably an inappropriate amount of passion. Please just know that I don't mean to offend you; I'm just upset on your behalf."

I nodded, sniffing a few tears back up into my nose. "It's okay, and I understand. And it's kind of nice to have someone care about what's happening to me and how it's making me feel. It's really nice, actually."

Matthew studied my face for a long moment, his expression of sympathy seeming to be genuine. "Would you like to head inside the cafe and have a cup of coffee with me? It looks like its empty, as usual, so we can talk a bit more and not worry about anyone overhearing us."

Forcing myself to do it, I gave his hand a little squeeze. "Sure. Thank you. It might be nice to just sit and talk a bit longer and collect my thoughts before I have to go home to Truman. That is, if he's even home. For all I know, he might be giving Mara some other private tour."

Several minutes later, we sat at a small corner table in the empty cafe, after having been served coffee by a bored-looking girl with green streaks in her hair. The moment Matthew had picked up our tray to take it to our table, the girl, who appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties, had sat back down on a stool behind the counter, pulled her phone out, and began tapping on the screen with her gaze locked on it.

After we'd each taken a few sips of our coffee, Matthew set his mug on the table, looking into my eyes. "Brette, do you still even want to marry Truman?"

I sighed, every fiber of the non-
acting
part of my brain wanting to scream
yes
. "I don't know. Deep down, I guess not really. I'd honestly just like to call the whole thing off. But Truman has said little hints about that we have to go through with the wedding, no matter what, because it would be some sort of scandal for a
lord
to have a broken engagement, especially after we've already had our engagement party. And being that he's lord of this entire nation, and his word is the final say, about everything, I guess I don't really have a choice. I guess I
have
to marry him. Whether I really still want to or not."

The whole
acting
thing was coming easier and easier to me. To the point that I wondered if I'd laid it on too thick. I wondered if I was being too obvious. But Matthew didn't give any indication that he was on to me.

With his expression still one of sympathy, he reached across the table and gave my hand a little squeeze, not removing his own after. "But what if there
was
a way out? What if there
was
a way that you didn't have to marry Truman, and could instead be free to marry a man who'd never even dream of cheating on you, and who would adore you, literally worship the ground you walk on, for the rest of your life? If there
was
a way out like that, would you take it? Do you think you'd be happy?"

I felt like I was getting close. Oh, so very close to getting him to confirm what he intended to do to Truman, and possibly Owen and Annabelle as well.