Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Dragon’s Pretend Marriage Chapter 3

Milton

"Boutique?"

Those sweet lips had formed a question, yet I refused to acknowledge the sound. If Brandi wanted a face engagement, I would give her one. And I would use every ounce of it to push me into the future. My future. No mates necessary. I mean, aside from her, of course.

The limo had pulled up to a curb where streetlights flooded the sidewalk. Shrubs decorated various square paces and trees marked the areas between lamp posts. Marietta was already at the door since she'd noticed the flags of the Kane family on the antennas of the limo. ur best if we're going to be seen at Royale."

I reached for Brandi. "Yes, a boutique," I replied, finally acknowledging her silly question. "We need to "Royale!"

Not the name I wanted to hear her shout, but fine for me. It was like a preview.

Milton, don't. I could already feel the irritation growing in my system from being denied pleasure by my more logical side. She's just an arrangement. She's not a toy. And all I could think of in response was, Why not both?

The sidewalk was full of photographers the moment we stepped onto the cement. Marietta stood her toward the door.

proudly while my driver and a few bodyguards surrounded Brandi and me. Brandi wore an easy smile while keeping her eyelids relaxed as we marched

A dozen questions filled the air about Brandi, my appearance at the dive bar, and what the next innovation would be from Kane EnTech. Those were all the questions I wanted to hear, too. The more they asked about Brandi without a proper response, the more coverage our fake relationshi

And that was why showing up at Marietta's personal boutique had been the right move.

As soon as we were safely inside, I bent to kiss Marietta's cheek. "Dear, you don't look a day over one-

d receive. It was easy to manipulate the press with the right public moves.

She turned a brilliant shade of indigo for a split second before her skin returned to its usual peach pattor Shrugging her thick shoulders, she glanced at Brandi, and then sniffed.

"I've dressed so many wolves," she commented in her squeaky voice. "But never a wolf with a dragon. Reaching for the stars, aren't we, dear?"

Brandi looked intrigued but never lost her easy smile. Who had given her PR briefings? She was perfor Most women would have fainted by now.

"You're quite short for a fae," Brandi commented. "Your parents must have reached for the stars as well."

o well under pressure.

Marietta barked with laughter. Her plump form jiggled as she grabbed the spelled beads around her neck, white hair flowing like a waterfall down her back and whipping to the right when she spun around. "She's got spunk," she said. "I like her, Milton. Nice choice."

I studied Brandi carefully. "You're remarkably calm."

"You forget I'm used to shifting."

"Not everyone is cut out for public life. You sure about this?"

She flashed a darling smile at the window, inspiring the photographers to clamor around the glass. Flashes of light blanketed us like snow. Brandi ate it up.

And who said wolves couldn't be vain?

"Alright," I whispered to her without losing my smile. I wrapped my arm around her waist and gently turned her around. "Let's dress you up."

"You just want your own personal Barbie doll."

I chuckled while stroking her hip. I was just hamming it up for the entourage outside, but the way she leaned into me made my heart quiver. I slipped an inch of space between us-and only an inch-while guiding her toward the dressing rooms. Marietta bounced from behind one of the mirrors with a pile of dresses over her shoulder. Her beads clicked and clacked as she shuffled toward one of the open rooms. She huffed while dropping the dresses on a lavender bench.

"Alright, Miss Wolf," she announced while propping her hands on her hips. Sweat beaded her brows. "Try those." She held up a hand just as Brandi opened her mouth. "Half fae, half dwarf. I can sense your size and I can topple you over at full strength, too." Brandi smiled gratefully and nodded. "I appreciate your help, Marietta."

When Brandi disappeared, the boutique owner waltzed up to me and pointed to the rack at the rear of the store. "And for you, the usual."

"What would I do without you, Mari?"

She plucked at my sheer shirt while choking on a giggle. "You would fail at dressing yourself."

"I was blending in." I shrugged her off and slid toward the rack. "Besides, I look good in alternative styles. It matches my hair."

"Too bad people think you dye it."

I waved away the comment. "Who cares? Humans aren't good at keeping secrets. And with men like me-with creatures like me-they tend to be more fearful. It's best kept to myself." "Too bad that doesn't protect you from danger."

My chest heaved. "Have you spoken to my mother?"

"She told me about the attack on your pack. And the rescue mission. And the mess."

"I was just doing my duty."

She hummed. "You ever think of going solo?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you don't even live with your pack."

My nostrils flared. "Mari, you don't have pack mentality. You don't get it."

"Dragons don't have pack mentality, Milton. You're an oddball in your own family."

"They're just confused."

She nodded. "Have you explained it to them?"

I cringed. "A million times."

"So, explain it to me."

"Why?"

She sighed. "Because I've known your family since I was working the mines. Okay? Don't you think I should know things, too?"

My fingers flustered over the tuxedos. I wasn't even inspecting them anymore. Besides, I would just wear something black with pinstripes. Slimming, stylish, sexy-that was always what I did.

It wasn't like I changed much.

"Fine," I spat. "But you'll think it's silly."

"Humor an old woman."

How strange it was to hear her say that when she hardly looked old at all. Every decade or so, she rebranded her boutique and changed her appearance. Those beads were the work of fae magic, which meant they were more powerful than most magicians. Magic as old as time itself. That could fool anyone. Even dragons.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I can't believe I've never told you about the beach festival."

She stared at me while I pulled a tuxedo from the rack.

"Blake, Neil, Tanner, and Jermaine were all at this festival." I took a deep breath and sighed it out. "We got stuck in some caves while exploring. We had to work together to get out. We've just been stuck together ever since."

"Nothing like a little trauma to bond for a lifetime."

I cackled. "You are so weird."

"And you are so picky." She snatched the tuxedo and gestured to a silver suit complete with black gems for buttons. "Try something different, Lizard Boy!"

"Hey, that's racist."

Just as she puffed up for a playful retort, Brandi floated toward us.

My heart thumped so loudly that I thought it would launch from my chest.

She folded her hands together bashfully in front of her, bowing her head as the train of the dress swayed gently around her bare feet. Silver speckled the skin-tight gown, crawling up her luscious hips and cupping her breasts together as the straps crossed over her chest and wove around the back of her neck.

There was no way I could take her in public looking like that.

We wouldn't make it back to the damn limo.

"Too much?" she whispered, her brows knitting together. "I knew I should have grabbed the other-"

"It's perfect," I blurted. "Totally matches this suit I picked."

I grabbed the silver suit and held it up, letting the light catch every glimmering jewel. Her eyes sparkled with affection. Not at the suit.

At me.

"Oh, it's so..." She reached for it, fingers reverently rubbing the fabric. "God, it's so soft. How did you do this?" She turned to Marietta. "Is it spelled?"

"Our finest weavers imbue the fabric with the tiniest specks of fae soil."

Brandi blinked as she turned back to the fabric. "Fascinating."

"Too much?" I asked. My dragon tensed in preparation for her response. "I mean, it matches, so I figure-"

"Perfect," Brandi agreed. She met my gaze. "I love it. Put it on."

Bossy. Gorgeous. Daring. Sweet. My lips curled into a Cheshire grin as my inner dragon purred with satisfaction. This is a better deal than I thought.

***

Gold pillars rose on either side of the door for Royale. The fae palace wasn't particularly public about their supernatural dealings, but it was certainly a feature of their appeal, a selling point that repeatedly drew patrons to their doors. Magic is alluring to all creatures, especially the ones who are entirely unaware of its existence.

But fae magic wasn't the thing that drew me to Royale initially.

It was Brandi. It was her dress. It was the fact that I knew every pair of eyes in the vicinity would be scoping us out the moment we walked through the door.

And what better way to take the natural and supernatural worlds by storm than by walking into a joint owned by the very keepers of history?

Sleek metal stages resembling chrome cylinders lined the back wall surrounded by glass. They were medical tubes with various creatures dancing inside-mermaids and fae alike gyrated alongside each other to the rhythm of the music. The notes seemed to infect my chest, a telltale sign of magic invading the air.

Brandi breathed deeply and then looped her arm with mine.

"Wards," she whispered, "and lots of them."

"Security has been high since the war ended."

She nodded. "Vampires and wolves are still learning to get along."

A group of particularly pale figures glanced at us, their eyes glistening with a sort of ancient intelligence.

I smirked and nodded in their direction. Most vampires weren't opposed to dragons. We tended to seek the same hiding places-mountains, caverns, dungeons, and fortresses-so we often shared the same spaces.

But if vampires ever attacked my friends, I would defend them. Without a doubt. Especially if it was Brandi.

My heart jerked at the notion of her getting hurt. It was odd to even consider such a thing. Even with that enemy pack lingering around our borders every so often, it wasn't like I was attached to Brandi for any significant emotional reason. If we messed around with each other, I might become more possessive, but that was the depth of my involvement.

And I would stick to that.

No matter what.

The rest of the club rose and fell in various steel levels. Glass tables with elegant curves and crystalline stools decorated a higher platform, while the lower ones were free of obstacles. People milled around a radiant bar with a fish tank for a counter and a collection of cotton candy clouds floating overhead.

People recognized me instantly. Women flocked toward me like I was made of gold. Several business associates wandered in my direction to shake my hand. Each interaction was more boisterous than the last, granting me the opportunity to introduce Brandi repeatedly.

And loudly.

"This is Brandi," I would say. "My fiancée."

Oh, the women were disappointed. The men, too. Everyone ate it up like it was the most delicious candy on the planet. Any fae within hearing range exchanged a glance with another fae, and so on and so forth until my phone was buzzing with frantic calls from my mother.

I ignored every single one of them in favor of putting my hand on Brandi's waist, on her shoulder, on her hand. Wherever my hand traveled, goosebumps roused, revealing the nature of her true feelings.

She liked this as much as me. Maybe even more than me. And I wasn't about to argue with that.

If I could inspire her by touch, then I could do the same with words later. I wouldn't have to beg either. One sultry phrase was all it would take.

I could just tell.

Fluorite stones caught my attention. Those were her eyes, a kind of absinthe green lit from within glaring through the disco lights, the silky clothes, the occasional flash of a camera or a spell going off to impress the crowd. She was luring me like a siren to the foamy darkness waiting just beyond the fog.

And I was happy to follow her.

She took me into a corner, hands sweeping over the lapels of my jacket. "You're nervous."

I laughed. "You're drunk."

"We haven't had a drink in an hour," she reasoned. She peered over my shoulder. "Though it seems like plenty of people want us to drink."

"I'm not nervous. I'm never nervous."

Her right brow arched. "You pick your thumbnail when you're getting overwhelmed."

"What?"

"You're doing it right now."

I glanced between us, almost embarrassed by the fact that she was absolutely correct. My left thumbnail was digging under the nail bed of my right thumbnail. Pain registered but quickly dissipated when I stopped picking.

After clearing my throat, I shrugged my shoulders. I fixed my jacket. I glanced around with a curious expression, inspecting the elites in attendance. Plenty of them were actively gossiping, both on their phones and with their friends. Rich families do that when they're bored.

And they were always so bored.

Brandi touched my cheek, the soft gesture attracting my gaze. "You don't have to hide that from me. If we're going to be attached for a while, we might as well understand these things now, right?"

"I'm never nervous."

"You've never been engaged before. I get it. Me either."

I flashed my dazzling grin guaranteed to drop several thongs in the vicinity. Though I wanted it to get Brandi undressed more than anything. "It's new."

"We'll navigate it together. This was actually a good excuse to make it look like we're intimate."

My lips pursed with approval. "Impressive. I didn't think you had it in you to perform like a wealthy chick. You've always been..." What was the right word in this situation? "Devious."

"I can be good when I want." She stood up on her toes while resting her hands on my chest. Her upper lip brushed my lower lip, dragging a moan right out of me. "But I can be devious while being good, too."

And then, she kissed me.

Dragons like me don't purr very often. Already, I had the urge to rumble and roll and nuzzle into her the whole night, her scent only doubling my desire by a thousand. And such a unique scent at that. Olive oil and rosemary-a delicious blend that inspired me to slide my tongue into her mouth.

That was it.

All bets were off.

Brandi would belong to me one way or another.

Whether it was real or not.