Page 33 of Real Scale Blazer
His low chuckle sent shivers down her spine.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the flames dance. Quinn pulled out her notebook, reviewing the day’s readings, but her attention kept drifting to Kai’s profile in the firelight.
“My father would have liked you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet.
She looked up, surprised. “Why’s that?”
“Your dedication. Your fierce independence. He valued those qualities.” Kai stared into the flames. “He died defending this kingdom. Left me with a legacy I’m not sure I can preserve.”
The vulnerability in his voice struck something in her. Without thinking, she reached out, placing her hand on his arm. “Hey. You’re doing everything you can.”
He covered her hand with his, and electricity sparked between them. His skin burned hot against hers, dragon-warm and somehow exactly right. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just this—his golden gaze, her racing heart, the magnetic pull drawing them closer.
Quinn jerked her hand back, her cheeks burning. “I should check the readings again.”
“Quinn.” The way he said her name made her shiver. “You don’t have to keep running.”
“I’m not running.” She busied herself with her equipment. “I’m working. Which is what I came here to do, remember?”
“Is that all you came for?”
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications she wasn’t ready to face.
“You’re doing it again,” she said instead.
“Doing what?”
“Being all...” She waved her hand vaguely. “Brooding. Like some overgrown lizard with emotional baggage.”
To her surprise, he laughed—a real laugh, deep and rich. “And you’re being a firecracker with a death wish. We make quite the pair.”
TWENTY-SIX
The fire crackled between them, sparks dancing toward the star-filled sky. Quinn tried to focus on her notes, but the warmth of Kai’s presence kept drawing her attention. He’d shed his outer layer, revealing a black thermal shirt that did nothing to hide his impressive physique.
Not that she noticed. Because she definitely wasn’t noticing things like that.
“Your heart rate increases when you look at me,” he said casually, not looking up from stoking the fire.
Quinn spluttered. “I—what? Are you seriously listening to my heartbeat?”
“Dragon hearing.” He glanced up, eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s particularly noticeable when you think I’m not paying attention.”
“That’s...” She searched for words. “That’s incredibly invasive. And creepy. And?—”
“And accurate?” His lips curved into that infuriating half-smile that did things to her stomach. “Your pulse just jumped again.”
“Because you’re annoying me.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
She threw her pencil at him. He caught it easily, his chuckle sending warmth curling through her chest.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“So you keep saying.” He rose, moving to sit beside her with a grace that should have been illegal for someone his size. “And yet, you haven’t moved away.”
He had a point. They sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched, and Quinn found herself leaning toward him despite her best intentions. He radiated heat like a living furnace, tempting in the mountain cold.