Taming London (Warwick Dragons #1) - Milly Taiden Page 0,38

more ways than one.

Chapter Sixteen

London

To say that London Warwick couldn’t believe his luck was an understatement. Not only had he had the best night of his life with his mate, but she had agreed to stay the morning with him.

Things were turning around.

He was relieved and happy that he didn’t feel the burning shame that usually accompanied a night of sex, but he felt rejuvenated. Better than he had in…well, in decades, if not in hundreds of years. There was just something about the fact his Beth was lying in his bed, waiting for him. London found himself whistling as he shampooed his hair, humming as he groomed his facial hair, and shimmying around as he put on gray slacks and a turquoise buttoned-up shirt.

Yup. The centuries-old dragon was as giddy as a schoolboy.

And all because he had met his mate.

He swung the bathroom door opened. Beth didn’t look up from the bed, but he spoke to her regardless.

“I was thinking we pop into your place, get you a change of clothes for today, and maybe you pack a bag if that’s not too presumptuous. We can go work out some of the details of the benefit at the museum before I take you out to a nice dinner.”

Bethany wasn’t listening to him. Her face was turned down to the device in her hands. Her cheeks were flushed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a few tears were drying against her skin.

“What’s the matter, Beth?”

“You want to explain this to me?” She tossed him the phone, and it was only then that London realized it was his own device.

He looked down at the series of messages that had blown up on his screen. With each new text he read, he felt his temper flaring, building momentum.

“I can explain,” he said, holding out a hand defensively.

Bethany was already shaking her head at him. She leaped off the bed and grabbed her clothes from the floor.

“Really, this is my fault. I was an idiot to even entertain the thought that this could be real. But no. Of course, you dated a journalist.”

“I swear, I didn’t know who she was…” But his words didn’t matter.

She had already decided what she was going to do with the information that she had discovered.

“Sabrina Jones is a reporter for The Morning Paper,” Beth snapped.

London shivered. The Morning Paper was one of England’s most notorious and inflammatory newspaper. How he hadn’t caught onto the fact that he had fallen into bed with the enemy was a sign of just how far he had fallen into his abyss of sin and debauchery.

“You fucked her earlier this week. I guess you treated her like shit and she wanted revenge. She had us followed.” She put up her own phone.

The picture was of he and Beth arriving at his building. He was opening the door for her, and he had to say that his face did look a little lovestruck. As for her, Bethany was scowling. She looked cold and distant. The headline was so inflammatory, he ached to think that it was out there for the whole world to see—Suspected Murderess Sets Sight On London Playboy.

London began to read the article, but all of it was false. Sabrina was trying to reawaken the rumors that Bethany had been a suspect in her mother’s murder. It was a vile thing to do.

He would freely admit that he had not been very kind to Sabrina when he had kicked her out of his apartment, but it wasn’t him that she was attacking in her article. It was Beth. It was his mate.

“I will get her to print a redaction,” he assured her.

Bethany laughed dryly. “Oh, I’m sure that will go over well. Next thing you know, I’ll be accused of having all of the Warwick businesses and ventures wrapped around my finger. No, thank you. I know how snakes like that work. I’ll see you at the benefit. I’ll handle everything else, and I’ll give your mom the name of someone else who can help you with your image.”

He held onto her arm, stopping her from leaving. “Don’t. Don’t leave like this.”

“Figured the stuff coming out of your mouth was too good to be true. It always is. Men. None of you can be trusted.”

He frowned. “What is this really about, Beth? I’ve never lied to you.”

“I have to go.”

“This article has nothing to do with us. We know it’s not true. And we sure know what is happening here, between us.”

Tears