Page 15 of The Dragon in the Corner Office (Monstrous New York #1)

Chapter 15

H eat seeps through the to-go cup and into my hand, the faint aroma of lavender filling my nose where I stand outside Antoinette’s apartment door.

When her texts hit my phone, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I’d just sent a follow-up email to Mr. O’Malley, regarding why he hadn’t signed our contracts, when my phone chimed on my desk. Antoinette Bauer requesting my assistance at her apartment.

Color me intrigued.

The way she stormed out of the office earlier had me thinking she’d be radio silent for the rest of the day. Yet, by midmorning, my phone was buzzing across my desk as text after text came through.

On the way to her apartment, I stopped at her favorite diner. A sort of peace offering in case I’m walking into an all-out war.

Lavender chamomile should settle the dragon hiding under her chilly exterior.

Knock. Knock.

My knuckles rap against the metal door, and I lean against the frame, waiting for a response.

As I’m raising my hand to knock again, the door swings inward, revealing… “Penelope?”

Lips curled in a mischievous smile, she waves. “Hi, Cyrus. Won’t you come in?” With a sweep of her hand, she beckons me inside.

My eyebrows are stuck at my hairline as I follow Pen into the apartment. At first glance, it’s sleek and minimal. The modern lines and neutral color palette are fitting for Antoinette. But I notice there aren’t any personal touches.

No photos on the walls.

No random seashells found on the beach.

No heirloom knickknacks you want to get rid of, but can’t because your mother gave them to you.

Upon further inspection, the open floor plan is cold and lifeless, not what I’d expect from the fiery woman sitting on the couch .

“What’s the emergency?” I rumble, approaching Antoinette. Her usual corporate armor is noticeably absent, face free of makeup and curvy body shrouded by a cream knit blanket. The sight of her in the comfort of her home has my heart racing.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

Without makeup, she appears younger. Dark lashes frame her glowing metallic eyes when they raise to meet mine. A glimpse of shimmering black scales peek out on her cheekbones.

“That would be my doing.” Penelope’s voice has my gaze pulling from Antoinette to the bubbly blonde as she sits on the couch, crossing one knee over the other and stacking her hands on top.

My head swings toward Antoinette again, eyes widening, waiting for an explanation.

Antoinette’s body deflates with a sigh, the blanket slipping from her shoulder to reveal the thin navy-blue strap of her top—and the flawless olive skin I’ve been dreaming about sinking my teeth into.

Even more so after last night.

“Pen messaged you from my phone, but, now that you’re here”—she shrugs—“we should probably clear the air after what happened last night.”

My throat clicks with a swallow, and my hand, suddenly clammy, slips around the flimsy cup in my grasp. Bending down, I set it on the coffee table before I accidentally drop it and spill tea all over Antoinette’s stark-white rug.

She was so standoffish this morning; I thought for sure we would go right back to tip-toeing around each other at the office, desperately trying to avoid any more feuds. But hope trickles into my body, filling me like the droplets of a summer rain.

Please tell me she wants to do it again, or—wishful thinking—try for more.

Her voice, softer and more timid than normal, interrupts my spiraling thoughts. “I-Is that for me?”

I peel my eyes away from the to-go cup in question and find myself engrossed in the twinkle of stars in her eyes. “Yeah, princess. Lavender chamomile. Is there somewhere private we can talk?” I match her tone, keeping my voice gentle and soothing.

Slender fingers wrap around the cup, taking it with her when she stands from the couch, blanket still clutched around her body with one hand. Like a dutiful puppy, I follow close behind her.

“In here,” she says, leading me down a short hallway and into a large bedroom, shutting the door behind us.

One wall is floor-to-ceiling glass. An oversized sliding door opens onto a balcony. The view is exquisite. Midmorning rays of sun cascade all around us, creating countless rainbows on the soft purple walls .

“This,” I say, spinning to take in more of the room. “This is how I pictured your apartment. Not whatever that is out there.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder, in the direction of the living room and kitchen. Cold and boring.

“What do you mean?” She perches on the end of the large floor bed. All different shades of purple surround her, from the deepest eggplant of the sheets, to the palest silvery lilac of the fuzzy blanket she’s toying with.

My fingers graze the leaves of a plant where it trails along the top of her dresser, the light wood a stark contrast to the deep green of the leaves. “Out there, everything is so cold and impersonal. But here, this room screams Antoinette. Sophisticated and strong. Rich and full of fight. But still soft and feminine.” Strings of fairy lights cascade down the walls, twinkling in the sunlight. I can only imagine how magical it would be at night, drifting to sleep while surrounded by a million stars.

She clears her throat, and I stop my perusal of her space. This is clearly her safe place, so her letting me in here is telling on a whole other level.

“This is my nest,” she states.

There’s a deep plum, velvet wing-back chair near the balcony door. I take a seat and give her my full attention. “Like a bird?”

Her golden eyes roll, but she chuckles. Soft and husky. It warms my chest. I want more of that sound. “No. Like a dragon .” As her hand waves through the air, I notice the scales now climb up the backs of her hands. Her fingers are tipped with dainty black claws.

What would it be like to have the biting sting of those claws against my skin while I’m deep inside her?

My cock thickens in my pants, but now isn’t the time. We need to clear the air and figure out what the hell is going on between us.

Turning toward me, her second eyelids blink rapidly before remaining open. “Dragons are collectors. Some may call us hoarders. Whatever you want to call it, we seek comfort in our belongings.”

I scoot the chair an inch closer to the bed and rest my elbows on my knees. “You mean like in fairy tales? The dragon always protects its treasure.”

She shrugs, picking at the label of the to-go cup. “Not quite. The fairy tales aren’t totally accurate. We hoard what we crave. So if a dragon desires riches, they’ll gather valuable things. That’s where the myth comes from.”

My eyes flit around the room once more. I don’t see anything shiny or outright valuable. It’s mostly pillows and blankets. Lush green plants fill up every corner of the room and hang from decorative hooks along the massive windows. The sheer curtains in the doorway billow in the breeze. “Okay, what do you collect, Ms. Bauer?”

Her gaze stays locked on the cup in her hands, shoulders rounded. This is such a different side of her. One I’ve never seen before. Meek and mild—almost scared .

Vulnerable .

But I crave to experience every side of Antoinette… if she’ll let me.

Even as silence fills the airy space, I don’t press her to speak. Something tells me she needs time to work up the courage and peel back the curtain.

Finally, she tilts her head up and her eyes drip with sadness, the normal molten gold now cooler and dimmed.

I don’t like it.

Fisting my hands on my thighs, I resist the urge to cross the room and pull her into a hug.

“This is hard for me, Cyrus. I’m not used to anyone being in my space.”

Her admission warms something deep inside of me, like she’s willing to let me in after what happened between us last night. Maybe it wasn’t just a heat of the moment kind of thing for her, like I’d initially assumed.

“I hoard things I find comforting because, for as long as I can remember, I’ve craved companionship. This type of hoarding isn’t normal for dragons.”

“Why?” My eyebrows crouch low over my eyes. “What do you mean?”

Shaking her head, she huffs a laugh and stands from the bed. The blanket falls away to reveal her luscious curves. A navy-blue silk tank top and matching silk pants encase her sinful body.

Damn, she even looks sexy in pajamas.

“I shouldn’ t even be telling you any of this. I don’t know you. And I certainly don’t like you. But Pen got in my head, and I thought I could do this.” She waves her arm toward me, the usual flames simmering behind her eyes again.

“Do what? I’m a little lost here, princess. Care to share with the class?” I’m standing now, too. Chest heaving as her anger radiates toward me.

Black claw raised in the air, she points an accusing finger at me. “You hurt me once before. Who’s to say you, won’t do it again? No. I won’t let you in. Pen is wrong.”

Her words don’t make sense to me, like my brain is scrambling them before I can comprehend. “What are you talking about?”

“Ten years ago, you took my job. And, maybe, you’re planning to do the same thing now? I worked my ass off to get that client to take me seriously, and I was this close—” She holds her thumb and forefinger up in a pinched gesture. “This fucking close to landing the sale. You—You waltzed in the next day and stole it right out from under my feet. You screwed me over, Cyrus. I got fired for losing that sale.” Her voice softens as she trails off, eyes glued to my chest.

My stomach drops. “Antoinette, I didn’t even know you were gunning for that sale. One of my buddies told me about a property up for sale, and I took advantage of the tip. Plus, I was a fucking dumbass back then.” The joke doesn’t land, and my laughter falls dead when her mouth twitches downward. “Look at me please, princess.” Stepping in front of her, I brace my finger under her chin and tip her face up until I’m met by beautiful, luminous eyes. “If I’d known you were working the same job, I would have backed off. I promise it wasn’t anything malicious on my end.”

Wide eyes search my face. Her mouth opens, like she wants to say something, but she closes it, silence stretching between us.

“I’m sorry, Antoinette. I was a cocky asshole, but life took something precious from me after that, and I’m trying to be a better person. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry if that’s the cause of all this animosity between us. But the truth is, I’m tired of fighting. Aren’t you?”

Ever-so-subtly, she nods, and I slip my hand down to the side of her throat. Under the skin, her heart thrums like hummingbird wings. “Y-yeah, I’m tired of hating you, too.”

A soft smile creeps onto my face. “Okay, then, where do we go from here? Because there’s clearly chemistry between us.”

Her cheeks darken, as if she’s remembering our little scandalous “overtime” from last night.

Thumb stroking her pulse point, I continue. “I like you, princess. And I’d like to know more about you.” I back up a step, head swiveling around the room. “For starters, what does Antoinette Bauer do when she plays hooky?”

Her lips split into a lopsided smile. There she is.

Sauntering to the door, her shoulders are pulled back as she swings the door wide and calls out, “Pen! We’re gonna need pizza and beer. We’re all playing hooky!”

A cheer comes from the other room. “On it!”