dragon. And dragons were above petty emotions.
But her remark about being a martyr had struck a nerve. He didn’t want a female in his bed who was determined to treat their passion as some sort of curse.
He wanted Tayla warm and welcoming and insatiable for his touch.
Which meant he needed to convince her that her place in his harem had nothing to do with her father’s debts. And like any good predator, he’d already searched and discovered her weakest points.
In contrast to his previous lovers, Tayla had no interest in gold or jewels. Or even power.
No. She’d spent her life being denied the love and affection that was the foundation of most fey families. She was eager to have someone care for her.
Granted, he didn’t have much experience in tending to a female. Actually, he had zero experience.
But how hard could it be?
“I have something for you,” he said, grasping her hand to lead her into the kitchen.
“For me?”
Warily she allowed herself to be tugged across the sun-drenched room to the wooden table that was set near the window.
Baine urged her into one of the wooden chairs as he opened the woven basket he’d demanded his servants prepare before returning to the cottage.
With care he set out the platters of home-baked bread with butter and honey still on the comb. There was another platter of fresh fruit and nuts. And last, but not least, was a bottle filled with a golden substance he’d been assured was the very best nectar money could buy.
Opening the bottle, he poured the thick liquid into a glass and settled in the chair across the table to watch in anticipation as Tayla cautiously took a sip.
Her eyes widened in shock. “Where did you get this?”
He watched her lick a golden droplet from her bottom lip, his cock hardening with a painful need.
“Direct from the Chantri,” he said, his tone distracted.
She gasped, abruptly setting down the glass. “You have connections with fey royalty?”
He grimaced. He hated dealing with the arrogant Chantri. They had an insane belief that they were equal to dragons. Unacceptable. But they did come in handy on occasion. Like when he needed the finest food to feed his imp.
“I make it a habit to ensure that I have a variety of demons in my debt at all times,” he murmured. “I called in a favor owed to me by Prince Magnus.”
“Oh.” She abruptly set down the glass, studying the bounty spread across the table with a helpless expression.
“Doesn’t it please you?”
“Of course.”
Baine frowned. She was supposed to be giddy with gratitude. He’d forced himself to waste over an hour traveling to fairyland. Then he’d had to cash in a very useful favor.
Why wasn’t she giddy?
“You are…” He hesitated, choosing his words with care. “Very difficult to please.”
She reached to grasp a succulent strawberry, studying it as if she’d never seen a piece of fruit before.
“I just don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
Lifting her gaze, she studied him in wary confusion. “Why would you trade in a favor for me?”
He shrugged. “It’s my duty to make sure you’re adequately fed while you’re in my care.”
“Oh. Duty.” Something that might have been disappointment rippled over her pretty features. “I see.”
Baine grimaced. He felt oddly embarrassed to admit he’d been determined to please her. No matter what the cost. But then again, he didn’t want her to think he would do the same for any other female.
It was all very unnerving.
“And I thought it would make you smile,” he grudgingly confessed. “Something that has become important to me.”
A charming blush warmed her cheeks. “Baine.”
“Eat,” he ordered in gruff tones.
“Bossy,” she muttered, but she obediently devoured the food with a gusto that filled him with a smug satisfaction. She was more cautious with the nectar, taking small sips as if she wanted to savor each taste. At last she glanced up to discover him watching her with an unwavering fascination. Her blush deepened. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Hungry? He was ravenous.
“Not for food,” he said in low, husky tones.
She choked on a strawberry, the scent of her arousal spicing the air even as she tried to pretend indifference.
“What do dragons eat?” she asked.
He resisted the urge to lean across the table and lick the strawberry juice from her lips.
Patience…
“I’m a predator,” he said. “I eat what I kill.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose you hunt in your other form?”
“I do.” He paused. Then with a sharp surge he was on his feet and holding out his hand. “Would you like to see?”
She