Never Deal with Dragons by Lorenda Christensen Read Free Book Online

without a word, exactly,” I muttered. Actually, he’d left me a note, but the two words—“I’m sorry”—made me so freaking mad and hurt that I’d tossed it into the fireplace and never mentioned it to Carol. I’d forced myself to pretend I didn’t really care about the reasons behind his actions, but seeing his warm golden eyes again had stirred up a lot of uncomfortable feelings.
    Her guess about my mindset was a little too close for comfort, so I pulled out a classic negotiation technique. Redirection. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I’m more interested in sandy locks these days.” I feigned interest in the magazine on my lap and slid my gaze to Carol. I’d filled her in on the oh-so-suave Richard Green, and she’d had little hearts flying around her head ever since.
    “Shut up, Myrna. At least I’ve fallen in lust with an upstanding citizen.” Her eyes went dreamy. “He invented the dragonian language, Myrna! That’s just—”
    “Really nerdy.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. If I don’t get eaten at this party,” I laughed at Carol’s worried face, “I’ll be sure and invite Richard over to the apartment for drinks or something and formally introduce you.”
    “In that case,” She leaned down and gave me a quick hug, “I really hope you don’t get eaten.”
    * * *
    On Saturday, the limo pulled into my driveway at exactly five o’clock. Well, it tried. My complex’s parking lot was proportionate to the size of the apartments—way too tiny to maneuver. I watched for a second as the massive vehicle made several attempts to navigate the sharp turn in the drive, wincing when the passenger side view mirror got up close and personal with the handle of the garbage chute.
    I left the window to take one last peek at my reflection. The green dress really was beautiful. I couldn’t decide whether it was because the color and fit accentuated my body in all the right places, or simply because the bill had been footed by DRACIM. I suspected both points held some weight. I’d come close to hoping Trian did make an appearance, just so I could shove my gorgeousness in his face.
    I was a little iffy on the shoes, no matter Carol’s opinion. When I made it outside, I noticed the driver had given up and settled for parking just outside the gate. I teetered toward him, almost breaking my neck twice before he was close enough to escort me to the curb. He kept up a steady patter about the unusually warm weather while his gloved hands provided a brace at my elbow and lower back as we walked toward the vehicle. These shoes were dangerous! I could only pray Lord Relobu’s street had fewer potholes than mine.
    The driver opened the door with a distinct flourish. I stifled a giggle and did my best to pretend I was familiar with the procedure. I slid across the leather upholstered seat. The interior was warm and intimate, complete with a flat-panel television and champagne on ice.
    I was surprised to see I was alone; Emory lived in the wealthier suburbs of Tulsa, farther from Lord Relobu’s country estate. Emory had insisted on calling Mr. Green’s office to make the arrangements. I’d assumed he and his wife would have been picked up first. I settled in to the ride, content to enjoy the surroundings before I was expected to make conversation with Amy. Emory’s wife had never really liked me.
    That’s okay—I never really liked her either. The only thing we had in common was a penchant for spending way too much on clothes. And dealing with Emory.
    While we drove, I took a moment to really admire my surroundings. By admire, I mean I gawked. I’d probably never get to see something like this again. DRACIM was a good-paying job compared to most, but it was nothing compared to Lord Relobu’s personal wealth. The war had left human society and technology a bit stunted. We were just starting to bounce back to what the elderly referred to as “the good ol’ days.”