Mated To The Dragon Of Manhattan (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) (4 page)

Brianna, the petite redhead I’d seen in the throne room earlier, looked up from a roasting pan on the stove, smiling. "Perfect, perfect timing. I just took dinner out of the oven. Rosemary chicken, roasted red potatoes, and vegetables. Maybe kind of a hearty dinner for August, but I didn't know what you like, and I figured, well, most people like chicken and potatoes. Oh, and I made rolls, too. Oh, and I also brought some chocolate ice cream for dessert. I figured after the day you've probably had, I'm sure a little ice cream is definitely in order."

I thought how I was probably about to make my second friend of my first kidnapping. And one who was the cousin of my first friend, Charlie the guard. I was thankful for this friendly family, whoever they were.

I gave Brianna a little smile. "I could definitely use some ice cream. Thank you. And thank you so much for cooking. I'm starving."

She smiled back. "My total pleasure. And no wonder you're starving; it's nearly 10 p.m. I came up soon after my cousin Charlie and the other guard, Derick, left, but you were already fast asleep, and I just thought I'd let you get some rest, considering all you've been through."

At the mention of "all I'd been through," I suddenly realized I had some questions for my new friend, and I straightened up from the archway threshold of the kitchen and came to stand near Brianna at the stove, hugging my arms to my chest. "Hey. Can I ask you something? What exactly
did
I 'go through' today? Do you know what happened to me? Was I somehow drugged at my job? Was I kidnapped? I mean...what happened to me? And why does everyone think I'm a spy?"

Wincing, Brianna turned her focus to the roasting pan of food for a long moment before looking me in the eyes again. "I'm really, really sorry. My heart is going out to you right now. And it was earlier, too. If Truman hadn't agreed to have the guards un-cuff you when you started crying, I swear, I was going to strangle him with my bare hands. But...." Sighing, she frowned. "Until the investigation is complete, I can't say anything more. I'm really sorry. I mean, I can tell you a little bit more about this place over dinner if you want, like, a few things about the building and the people who live here, but as far as anything more specific than that...like how you probably got here...well, I think we all have a pretty similar theory, but I'm sure it would be wise of me to let Truman give you more specifics on his own timetable."

"Well...when do you think that will be?"

Brianna's big green eyes developed a bit of a twinkle.

"Maybe as soon as tomorrow. He wants to pop in here for a visit and have brunch with you. And I'm pretty sure he wants it to be just the two of you."

Suddenly, I actually didn't care about what had happened to me. All I could think about was Lord Truman and me, alone in the luxurious apartment ‘prison’ together. All I could think about was his handsome face, his thick black hair, and his long, hard body. In what I was sure would be fairly close proximity to mine. I wondered if he'd be at all receptive to taking a soak in the Jacuzzi with his prisoner.

*

Not wanting Brianna to know what direction the mere mention of Lord Truman's name had sent my mind spinning off to, I quickly cleared my throat and smiled. "Oh, that's fine. He'll explain things to me when he wants to, I guess. But now, let's enjoy the delicious dinner you made."

Instead of eating at the long, polished table in the formal dining room, we opted instead to eat at a much smaller, more casual blonde oak circular table beneath an amber-colored Tiffany lamp in the kitchen. While we ate, Brianna told me a little about the building, things like how many restaurants it had and what kind they were, and which were the best clothing boutiques in the building.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you. I brought you bags and bags of clothes. They're all out in the living room. Jeans, tops, shoes...even a couple of dresses in case you like dressing up a lot. Oh, and pajamas and lounge wear and underwear, and all that kind of stuff, too."

I was more than relieved to hear this, having been in my work clothes since just past dawn that morning. She also said that she'd brought me toiletries and a hair dryer as well.

But then, she suddenly put her fork down, gasping. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry! I haven't even properly introduced myself yet." She extended her hand. "I'm Brianna Stevens, airhead extraordinaire."

Laughing, I shook her hand. "It's really nice to meet you, Brianna. And of course, you know my name is Brette."

Smiling, she gave my hand a little squeeze before releasing it. "With an
e
. Very pretty name, by the way. And I'm really looking forward to being your friend, Brette, for however long you're here."

It was so wonderful to officially have another friend, and a female one.

We continued enjoying the delicious meal she'd made, and we talked and laughed like we'd been friends for years. However, it
was
kind of a strange experience to be so amiably enjoying a meal with someone who wasn't even allowed to tell you their theory about what had happened to you when you'd closed your eyes at work earlier that day and then had opened them to see two guards drawing guns on you.

After the meal, while we enjoyed our chocolate ice cream, Brianna asked me if she could ask me something, and I said sure.

She scooped up a bite of ice cream, her jewel-green eyes twinkling. "Well...how did you come up with the name 'Rolando Feathers?' I've gotta tell ya, I almost literally died. Even though I felt terrible about laughing because I knew you were so distressed and flustered."

I sighed, though smiling a little. "So, I didn't fool anyone?"

Brianna giggled and took a bite of ice cream. "Uh, no."

I sighed again. "No earthly clue how I came up with the name. I was flustered beyond any level of being flustered I've ever been before, and my mind just goes in the weirdest directions when I'm stressed, I guess."

"Well, I think Truman found it as amusing as I did. And I'm sure he was a little charmed by it, too; I could just tell. He was probably also glad to get pretty clear confirmation that you're single. Which, I couldn't even believe he asked you that question. I just wanted to turn to him and just be like, 'Could you be any more obvious.'"

I set my spoon in my dish, pulse accelerating just a bit. "Obvious about what? What was he being so obvious about?"

Brianna snorted, rolling her big green eyes, though a little smile was playing around the edges of her mouth. "Seriously? You didn't notice how he was looking at you? Well, you don't know how he looks normally, so maybe you didn't. But just trust me on this; he was giving you some
looks
. Which didn't surprise me, because you seem really sweet and nice, and you're super pretty, and I happen to know that Truman prefers women with fuller figures and beautiful curves like yours. So, it honestly didn't surprise me that much, although I've never even seen him give any woman quite those same looks...looks of extreme interest and intensity, I might call them. I think you really flipped his switch, if you know what I mean."

I thought about Lord Truman's handsome, strong-jawed face and his long, chiseled body, the possibility that I could have "flipped his switch" making butterflies race around my stomach. "You really think so?"

Brianna nodded, a sly little grin on her face. "Yeah. I know him pretty well, and I'm pretty positive. I'm sure if you stay here long enough, you'll become the envy of all the women in Stone Tower. All the women in the whole city, in fact. I myself am kind of immune to Truman's charms, because our mothers were very good friends, and so we grew up more or less like siblings together, so that's kind of how I see him, like a big brother, not to mention that I'm very, very happy with my husband; but many of the other women in this city...well, let's just say that when Lord Truman's around, there's never a dry panty in the room."

I briefly choked on a bite of ice cream, and Brianna gave me a little wink, giggling.

"Well, it's true. Oh, and by the way...while I'm referencing
Lord
Truman...I should probably tell you that that's how everyone but his very closest inner circle addresses him. Very closest inner circle being me, my husband Owen, and Truman's second-in-command Desmond, and his wife Laurie, who were both seated by Truman today on the throne platform. Oh, and I guess a few of his advisers call Truman
Truman
, too. Everyone else calls him
Lord
Truman. Though if my hunch is correct, you might be in the
Truman
, no Lord, camp before long."

The butterflies in my stomach intensified.

"So...he doesn't have a girlfriend or anything right now? He's completely single?"

Brianna nodded. "Completely single. He's had a few semi-serious girlfriends over the years, and of course, no shortage of women offering to be his bed mates, practically begging to be his bed mates, actually, but he's never been completely crazy about anyone yet. Though, who knows? That might be changing soon." She gave me a little wink. "We'll just have to wait and see."

With a little heat rising to my face, I went back to eating my ice cream with the butterflies in my stomach still flapping their wings.

A short while later, after we'd cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher together, Brianna said she'd better be going. "My husband should be returning home from a business trip-type thing soon, and I know Truman will want to talk to him about your situation, and I'm not even going to lie...I totally want to be there."

I nodded and said okay. "And do me a favor, will you? If you can put in a few good words about me not seeming like a spy, because I'm
not
, please do."

She smiled. "Of course I will. Though I might throw in a few things about you missing Rolando Feathers pretty desperately, too."

I fought a grin. "All right. Get out."

That night, pretty surprisingly, I slept like a baby, despite having taken my long evening nap earlier. And also, despite still not knowing what had happened to me. Or exactly why Lord Truman was holding me prisoner.

The next morning, I resolved to get answers. Brianna had told me that Lord Truman would be coming by with brunch around ten, and I was showered, dressed, and completely ready by five minutes before. Most of the new clothes Brianna had left for me fit perfectly, and I'd chosen to wear a scoop-neck fuchsia top, white shorts, and wedge-heeled tan-and-white sandals. I'd carefully styled my long, dark hair into loose waves, and I'd even applied a little makeup, which I was glad I'd happened to have in my purse. I put on some thin, gold bangle bracelets and dangly gold earrings that Brianna had put in with my new clothes. After all, I figured that maintaining dignity as a prisoner probably included trying to look one's best at all times.

When a knock sounded at the door, my heartbeat began accelerating, and I had to force myself to wait a few seconds before opening it. But then I realized I couldn't open the door. Because I was locked in the apartment. A little irritated, I decided the best I could do was call out for Lord Truman to come in, and so I did.

He opened the door and stepped into the foyer, where I was standing with my arms crossed over my chest, stifling a little huff of displeasure. But once I saw him, all my irritation kind of melted away. His thick, dark hair was rakishly tousled, and a hank of it fell over his forehead. He wasn't wearing the head-to-toe black, military-style uniform he'd been wearing the previous day; now he was wearing jeans that hung low on his slim hips and a white Oxford shirt open at the collar, which revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his bare, broad, chiseled chest. The effect was more than a little dazzling.

He gave me a little half-smile, further accelerating my heartbeat. "Good morning, Miss Morgan."

I struggled to find my voice. "Good morning, Lord Stone. But, please...call me Brette."

His half-smile got a little bigger. "All right, Brette, and thank you. And please call me Truman."

Brianna had been right that I'd be quickly moving into
Truman, no Lord
territory.

There was a little silence while we looked at each other, and I broke it by clearing my throat.

"I would have opened the door for you, but I was unable to. Being that I'm still a prisoner here, apparently. Even though I don't know why."