The instant Carrie looked at Gareth, her expression softened. “Yes,” she said, pushing to her feet and straightening her creamcolored dress. “More than ready, actually.” She cast Jolene a warning look. “Do that to me again and I might be the one growing fangs.” Jolene laughed and did a playful hiss. “Get some rest tonight. You deserve it.” She eyed the blond Adonis, the half vampire waiting at the door, and lowered her voice. “Or maybe it's him you deserve.” Carrie waved off her remark and grabbed her notebook. Jolene watched her depart, happy her friend had recovered fully from her experience in the underground.
The doctors at the complex had wiped Carrie's memory free of Purple Magic, though Jolene hadn't known until after it was done. Despite her mixed feelings about the action, she'd since decided it was a good choice. The doctors had encouraged Jolene to tell Carrie about what had happened. That way, Carrie would own her past, without being tormented by bad memories she couldn't change. “There you are.” Drago appeared in the doorway where Gareth and Carrie had just disappeared. “I went to your office but you weren't there.”
She gasped at the effect he had on her, everything inside her warming. Her mate never failed to steal her breath away. In black leather and a matching jacket, his hair wild around his shoulders, he was a fantasy of sex and sin. Even better, the wild warrior, with fiery kisses and talented hands, had also mastered the role of tender, attentive mate. “And we both know you aren't a patient man,” she teased, referring to his comment on the day they'd mated. “You weren't about to sit and wait for my return.”
“You know me well,” he commented, crossing the room, even as she pushed to her feet, and then pulling her into his arms. A long, sultry kiss later, she sighed, hands resting on the solid wall of his chest. “You really know how to say hello,” she murmured. A smile touched his lips, something he seemed to offer more and more each day. She loved his smile. “I saw Carrie leaving. Gareth appears quite taken with her.”
“I agree,” Jolene commented. “And her with him. Any chance they could be mates?” He shrugged. “There's one thing I learned about shifters, and that's anything is possible.”
Shaking her protectiveness of Carrie was hard. “Yes, but—“ Drago kissed her again, easing her back on the conference table, his hand sliding up her leg, and beneath her black pleated skirt. “I was thinking,” he whispered, nibbling her lips.
“Someone is going to see us,” she complained weakly, moaning as his hand explored the strip of satin along her backside. “Ask me if I care,” he said, but he didn't give her time to respond, his fingers continuing to explore, to tease. “When Carrie finishes this job, I have another one for her.”
“You have a catering job?” she asked, her words coming out a bit breathless. “Hmm.” His dark eyes simmered with heat, with admiration,
with . . . love. His hands went to her face. “A human wedding.
Our
wedding. You've made your Life my world, Jolene. You deserve the chance to be a bride, to have the bond humans recognize. To have the white dress, the cake, the huge list of guests. And the customary ring that's as big and beautiful as you want it to be.” Her hands went to his, and tears welled in her eyes. Six months before, Drago had no understanding of human ways, but for her, he'd tried hard to learn. Each night he asked her questions, prodding her for stories about her youth and her wants and desires. “I love you, Drago.”
“And I love you, my beauty.” He brushed his lips over hers. “So you'll marry me?” he asked, as if there was really any question. She laughed and kissed him, thankful she'd found her Slayer and a real happily ever after.