Shit, Josie. Stop being all about the “D” and answer the door. Your possible, maybe one day, mother-in-law is here to keep you company.
“My sweet girl,” Johanna air-kissed her cheeks as soon as Josie opened the door to the brownstone.
The woman could have used her own key, but Josie had the feeling York had asked his mother to give Josie her space. Probably because the horny dragon wanted to be able to sext her whenever he felt like it. Even when he was off trying to help her solve her blackmailing problem.
She sighed, her heart clenching hard as she felt an all too familiar wave of missing him. She wanted York with her so badly, it made her skin ache as it longed for his constant little touches and kisses.
Johanna frowned, sitting down in the living room, the space now overrun by loaded up boxes and crates. “How are you holding up?”
“I miss York like crazy,” Josie slipped out without thinking about it.
The other woman gave her a warm, understanding smile. “That’s the effect of being with your mate. It’s powerful.”
“I’m just so stressed out with him gone. What if Steiner figures out what we’re doing? What if he hurts York?”
The older woman shook her head. “York is with his brother. York and London might not always get along, but they love each other. York would have the best backup with his brother there with him. Besides, Steiner doesn’t have a clue. As far as he knows, you’re still under his thumb.”
It had taken very little convincing, too.
Part of the plan was to lull Steiner into a false sense of security. Josie had stolen—pretended to steal—a pair of earrings from the safes and sent a picture of the loot to Steiner as proof that she was working on a plan to smuggle some stuff out. There was a difference between a pair of diamond chandelier earrings and a vase. That couldn’t exactly be taken out of the bank on her ears.
But for the most part, it had calmed Steiner down to know that Josie was actively working on a plan. She continued to work for Johanna, cataloging all of the furniture, paintings, and knickknacks in the brownstone. The final tally of what everything was worth had made Josie dizzy.
The Warwicks weren’t just rich.
They had so much wealth, they didn’t know how much money they had in assets.
“Oh,” Josie squeaked happily, suddenly remembering something significant. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed a small, black velvet box, and brought it to Johanna. “I think I found the ring,” she said happily.
Johanna opened the box and smiled as she looked down at it. “Yes, this is it.” She slid the ring onto her left hand and admired it. “The boys’ father gave me this when we renewed our vows in 1924. It’s something we did every fifty years or so. That way, we always felt like newlyweds.”
Holy shit.
Johanna and her husband had been the real-life Kurt and Goldie. They had been together for hundreds and hundreds of years. If Alphonse hadn’t died in that plane crash, they would still be together.
“London always teased us about the ceremonies. I suppose he finally understands their meaning, now that he has met his mate.” Johanna placed the ring back in its box. “He means to propose to his mate, Bethany, quite soon. I think you would get along with her. She’s just as fiery as you. Though, I don’t think she has jumped out of any planes.” Johanna gave her a conspiratorial smile.
“I’ve jumped out of a helicopter, too,” Josie said. “It was an ocean jump off the coast of Australia. It was so beautiful and so freeing. I want to take York there one day. I think he’d get a kick out of it. He won’t be allowed to shift into his dragon, though. That would be cheating.”
Johanna laughed brightly. “He used to be quite the adventurous spirit, that one. I haven’t seen that spark in him in a very long time. I’m not too pleased with how you came into our lives, Josie. But I’ve thanked fate every day since you have, because I finally recognize my York. I will be eternally grateful to you for that.”
Josie blushed and bit down on her cheek. “I wanted to tell you that first day when I realized who you were.”
“Oh, I know. I could smell your secrets on you.” She tapped her nose by way of explanation. “I figured you’d tell me eventually.”
“How do you do that? How do you know? York says you’re psychic…”
This time, when Johanna laughed, it was a deep belly laugh. “Not quite, my dear, not quite.”
There was a glimmer in her green eyes, but she didn’t specify how she just knew things.
It was on the tip of Josie’s tongue to asked her more, but Johanna changed the topic expertly, and Josie forgot all about her possibly psychic future mother-in-law.
Chapter Seventeen
York
York was pacing the living room, wearing a hole through the flooring. His hands were either combing back his hair, cracking his knuckles, or drumming out a rhythm on his legs.
“You’re going to make me crazy,” London complained from where he sat on the couch. “Take a seat, before you burn my house down with all of this pent up energy of yours.”
“Do you want a cup of tea?” Bethany Russo offered. She was a sweet woman, his brother’s mate. Her offer was kind, but there was no way tea would ease his stress.
“No, thanks, Bethany.”
“I have never seen my brother this anxious,” London stage-whispered to his mate. “I think the woman has really done a number on him.”
York flashed him an angry look, his shoulders coiled tight with annoyance. Not toward his baby brother, of course, but rather toward the situation. He hated that he had been away from Josie for a week. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated to get a forensic accountant to fudge a bunch of financial records. It had taken even longer to convince London’s contact with Interpol to meet with him.
Seven days he had been away from his mate, and he missed her more with every breath. She was safe, of course. He had made sure of that. Armstrong was guarding the house, not to mention he had hired private security to track and trail Josie wherever she went. If Armstrong had known, he would have been insulted.
It wasn’t a lack of faith in the man’s abilities. It was just because Josie Essa was the most important person in the world to York, and he wasn’t taking any chances with her safety, with her life.
“Where the fuck is she? Aren’t agents supposed to be punctual and responsible? This woman is late.” He looked up to the clock on the mantel over the fireplace. “She’s two minutes late, for fuck’s sake.”
“I have to say,” London laughed. “I never thought I would ever see you going to war for a woman like this.”
“She’s my mate,” York stated.
London’s eyes went huge, while Beth frowned. “Wait, no. That can’t be right.”
York had managed to keep that little tidbit away from his brother for a week, but he was so keyed up, he had forgotten to keep the damn thing under wraps. He was never going to hear the end of it now. Quickly, while he kept a watchful eye on the clock, York gave them the gist of it.
“It’s so romantic that you’re saving her,” Beth cooed.