Page 16 of Balthazar's Fire

“No,” he sniggered, as she snuggled into his body heat. “I didn’t forget.”

“I could do with a change of clothes,” she admitted. “This dress has suddenly lost its appeal.”

“Shame,” he replied, stroking her hair lightly. “You look phenomenal, but I get it. How about we stop at your place and collect some personal items on the way?”

“Thank you.”

He heard the contentment in her reply.

“That would be lovely.”

***

Two hours later, Cherie was padding around the Vaughns’ townhouse in an oversized robe, her hair damp after the long soak she’d enjoyed. Checking on her charging phone, which Balthazar had brought with him from his mountain lodge where it had been left the night before, she replied to her outstanding messages while Balthazar poured the wine.

“Here you go, madam.” He smiled as he carried the glass of red over to her.

“Thank you, sir.”

Her lips twitched at her reply, and Balthazar pondered whether or not she was also reminded of their tryst the night before. Things had heated up between them, and Cherie had called him ‘sir’ before she had noticed Monroe stalking outside.

“Shall we sit for a while?” He motioned to the huge sofa on the other side of the room. “Or would you rather take your wine to bed?”

“Let’s sit,” she decided, taking the glass from him as she wandered in to take a seat. “Thank you, Balthazar.”

“I still like ‘sir,’ if you do?”

He ensured his tone was wry when he responded, but wanted her to know his feelings hadn’t changed. During their tête-à-tête, she’d inferred how much she liked the idea of power play in the bedroom and Balthazar completely agreed. He wasn’t sure if it was part of the genetic kink that enabled him and his kin to transform into ferocious dragons, but as it transpired, all four of Michael’s sons shared a specific proclivity in the bedroom. They all liked to be in charge.

“I do.” She sounded breathless as he joined her on the couch. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for intimacy after…” Her words dried up as she grappled for the right words.

“Hey,” he replied, encasing her hand with his. “Of course, not. I’m half joking, Cherie, and I promise, there’s no pressure whatsoever.”

“I know.” She swallowed, her eyes watching the way his hand covered hers. “I feel safe with you Balthazar. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be here.”

“You are safe,” he assured her. “If I’d known how deranged your ex-boss was, I’d have been more vigilant last night, but I never realized how audacious he was.”

Or that he was another shape-shifter.

Pressing his lips together, Balthazar held the final thought inside.

“It’s not your fault.” She caught her lip between her white teeth. “None of this is. You’ve been amazing.”

“I put you in danger,” he started.

“No,” Cherie interjected. “You saved me. Not only from the basement, but yesterday when you showed up at Monty’s and helped give me the strength to tell Oliver where to stick his job.”

Balthazar smiled at the memory. “You were fierce.”

“Hardly,” she replied. “But knowing you had my back helped a lot.”

“I do have your back.” He watched as she sipped at her wine. “For as long as you want me to.”

“I do.” Her shoulders fell with the confession. “I think that might be why he took me. He was angry and wanted revenge.”

“Quite possibly,” Balthazar agreed. “Monroe is a twisted son-of-a-bitch.”

“Yeah.” Her gaze flitted to her wine before it rose to meet his again. “Balthazar?”