Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [76]
“I do,” I said, watching as he shook the official’s hand. It was a loaded handshake, one I hoped did not contain too many folded New Zealand dollars.
“Come along, little bird,” he said as he opened the door and waited for us to file out. “We have the passport issues sorted out and can go to the cottage now. It’s outside of Auckland, on the water. I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” I said, allowing him to take my hand, tightening my fingers around his as a sudden spurt of emotion filled me.
“Don’t be so certain.” He gave me a little peek at his dimples. “It’s not up to Drake’s standards, not even up to those of the house in London I took for the winter. It’s just a modest little cottage on the beach, but it’s mine. I designed it myself.”
“Sounds like heaven to me.”
The ride out to Manukua City didn’t take long. Gabriel and his two bodyguards chatted about sept business, plans for a meeting at which I would be formally presented, and updates on various members. I listened with only part of my attention, watching as the busy Auckland streets changed to those of suburbia, which in turn morphed into a beach community. I kept a pleasant expression on my face, determined to love Gabriel’s house, no matter what it was.
“Here we are,” Gabriel said as the car suddenly turned into a private drive guarded by a gate. Tipene, who was driving, punched a couple of buttons on a remote, and the gate slid silently open. “My little cottage.”
The car pulled up outside a pair of double doors. I looked at the expanse of sixteen-foot-tall glass doors, pale melon-colored stone, and tall fluted marble columns, and promptly socked Gabriel in the arm.
He laughed as I got out, staring with openmouthed amazement. “What do you think, little bird?”
“I think I’m going to hit you again. Little cottage, Gabriel? How many rooms are in your little cottage?”
“Bedrooms?” he asked, taking my hand in order to smooth out my fist. “Ten. But ours is the best. It has an unobstructed view of the water. Come in and see the house. Cyrene will love the room with the indoor pool—it’s directly below our room and also has a fine view.”
The interior of the house was all light, with fresh white walls, huge floor-to-ceiling windows that must take weeks to clean fully, glass skylights allowing the room to fill with sunlight, and a gorgeous curved white stone staircase that emerged from the profuse plant life that was everywhere. I remembered the dark house in London that Gabriel had rented for a short while, the one that felt so empty to me, and reflected that this house was the reason for that. This house had heart—Gabriel’s heart—and I fell just as much in love with it as I did with its creator.
“What do you think?” he asked after taking me on the grand tour. Tipene and Maata had disappeared into rooms Gabriel indicated as their private domain. We left his bedroom for last, with its gigantic, mosquito-netted bed, array of electronics that would dazzle any computer geek’s eyes, and breathtaking view of the water.
“I think it’s heaven on earth,” I said truthfully, turning to him, noting that Maata was right; he had been worried. At my words, he visibly relaxed, pulling me into a loose embrace.
“It wasn’t before you came here, but I agree that now it approaches perfection.”
“I’m just sorry we can’t stay here long,” I said, leaning into him and allowing the wonderful woodsy scent of him to sink into my bones. “Maybe Cyrene can put off Neptune for a bit.”
“Unfortunately, there is too much to be taken care of elsewhere to stay here,” he said, rubbing his chin on the top of my head. “We must talk to the other wyverns about reforging the dragon heart.”
“I know. It just seems like everything is so far away from here; it’s tempting to just let it all go.”
“What you need,” he said, scooping me up in his arms and marching me out to the balcony that opened off the room, “is some incredibly satisfying sex with an even more incredible dragon, and I know just