York pushed his laptop away, having confirmed that the screen was intact. He rubbed his eyes. They were burning from staring at the screen for so long. He had been in the office for six hours, even though it wasn’t eleven yet. He’d done quite a bit of work, and he tried to focus on all that he had accomplished.
Johanna wanted him to delegate, but it would take, at the very least, four people to replace him if he was to take on less work. He didn’t have the time or patience to train anyone. It was better if he did it himself.
On the corner of his desk, his smartphone vibrated loudly, and York reached out for the device. He groaned out loud when he saw the caller ID. If he didn’t answer, the phone would just keep on ringing. His brother was the most annoying person on the planet, especially now that he was recently mated. London was on his case to go to England to meet his future sister-in-law. York would go. Eventually. Maybe.
“Hey, big brother,” London shouted on the other side of the line.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
London laughed. “Judging by your sunny disposition, I’m going to go ahead and guess that our lovely mother has made her arrival in NYC?”
York grumbled his answer, but it only served to make London chuckle again.
“You know she means well.”
“Hmm,” was York’s only response.
“So, listen, because you’re your usual grumpy ass self, Beth and I have decided that we’re going to take a small holiday and make our way to you. I need to get into the family safe anyway. There’s something I want to grab for Beth.”
York finally started paying attention to the conversation. “Are you telling me that you’re going to propose?”
“I sure am. She’s my mate, and that particular milestone of our relationship has already been fulfilled, if you know what I mean.”
He groaned. “I don’t need to hear this.”
“Oh, lay off, you grumpy dragon. This is good news. I’m going to get married.”
“Right. After you’ve managed to unleash Johanna on me.” York filled London in on Johanna’s latest ploy.
“Opening your heart? Sounds all mushy and gooey. Not your type at all.”
“You owe me an apology,” York stated.
“Why the hell should I apologize? You do work too hard. There’s no way I should be getting board member emails at three in the morning, York. Did you even go to bed?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe if you had a companion in your bed, you’d spend more time there.”
He growled low. “I don’t want anyone in my bed.”
“Fine, fine. You do sound like you need a good lay, though. And I’m not talking about sleeping. Speaking of which, my lady is just about to get home. I’ll be seeing you.”
Before York could respond, the line went dead. He rubbed his face, suddenly more irritated than he had been before the call from his youngest brother. He needed a good strong cup of coffee. Unfortunately, his new assistant never quite got his order right. He would have to go get the mug himself or accept that he would be thoroughly disappointed.
The walk to the coffee shop would help clear his mind, anyway. York grabbed his phone and wallet before making his way down the hall to the elevator. He instructed his assistant to hold his calls. He was bent over his phone as he walked, typing out an email reply to a bothersome board member, minding his own business, when he looked up, sensing someone was watching him. York wasn’t prepared for what happened.
His heart stopped, his breath caught, and his limbs refused to move. His knees buckled under him, and he nearly dropped his phone onto the white marble flooring.
Oh.
His dragon had burst a huge puff of smoke in his mind, making York stumble on his feet as he tried to take another step. He steadied himself by clutching the wall.
“Are you all right, Mr. Warwick?” Jordyn, the floor’s receptionist asked, leaping to her feet.
“Yup. Just need to watch where I’m going.”
Jordyn didn’t sit back down at the reception desk but instead walked around to him. She placed her hand on his arm. The poor woman had a crush on him. He could smell it on her. He would have liked to tell her that she was definitely barking up the wrong tree. She’d been with the company for a while, having only recently been promoted to the executive floor of the Warwick Bank International offices. She was attentive and discreet, but at that moment, her worry made him angry. He didn’t need everyone on the damn floor to know that he had almost fallen.
He especially didn’t want anyone to know why his legs had given out.
York took a deep breath before looking up again. He was convinced it had been nothing more than a trick of the light. That he was overly tired. That he had a headache that was causing him to lose his mind.
But that wasn’t it at all.
It’s happening!
His dragon was too riled up for York to focus on anything.
There was only one thing that had his undivided attention.
The woman was gliding effortlessly, her luscious curves wrapped in a tight soft pink dress that played against her tanned skin, making her tone look darker. She was smooth and soft, perfect from her graceful neck all the way down to her ankles.
York scowled when he saw the high heels that could easily be seven inches high, strapped to her feet. The damn things were a deep shade of pink that complemented the dress perfectly.
“Mr. Warwick?” the woman asked with a voice that was silky against his senses.
It’s her! his dragon was shouting. York ignored the beast.
“Yes, I’m Mr. Warwick.” Why was his voice suddenly raspy? Perhaps he was coming down with a cold, and he had a fever. Dragons didn’t get sick, so it had to be pretty bad flu to affect him so profoundly and with such speed.
Her smile was bright and wide, illuminating her face in a way that made him frown. Was his back really sweating? That hadn’t happened since…
She’s our mate, his beast roared happily. York was barely able to contain the happy whoop his dragon nearly forced out of him. He shook his head, earning him a frown from the goddess in the pink dress.
“Your mother spoke to you about my visit.” She held out her hand for him to shake, but he stuffed his hands in his pocket instead, clutching his phone tightly in the left hand.
There was no way he was touching a woman that was making him sweat by just standing there in her ridiculous shoes.
“My mother?” he asked.
“Right, Johanna Warwick. I’m here to access the family vaults. I have to start logging all of the possessions…”
“You came here to catalog my family’s most prized possessions dressed like that?” He gestured down the length of her body, biting down on a groan at how scrumptious she looked. Dirty thoughts—things that hadn’t plagued him in a hundred years—played through his mind.
She arched a brow at him, fury dancing in her hazel eyes. “You mean, dressed like a professional?”
“Those shoes. They’re unacceptable. Especially for traipsing around the bank’s subterranean floors. Do you have a death wish?”
“I’m Josie Essa, an antique appraiser, and dealer. I’m merely here to meet you as a formality. Your mother has already set me up with the security desk. I wanted to do the polite thing and introduce myself.”