guilting her into it, but despite his determination not to plead with her, he felt that a little well-timed begging might work.
“Come on, sweetie. Please? I’ll keep those mean dragons away from you.” Playing on her need to be brave was a good angle as well.
“Oh, fine.” Bingo!
Sidon speared a few bites of eggs before frowning. “And Isa, don’t take anything they say too seriously, okay?”
She rolled her eyes at him and scowled. “Why would I take seriously anything a dragon says?”
* * * *
Sidon held her hand as they walked up the broad white stairs into Key Sirena Yacht Club. The colonial monstrosity jutted off the southern tip of the island amidst miles of manicured greens. They’d swung by Key West for a crisp kelly green polo shirt and a flower-print skirt for her to wear. Sidon wore a seersucker blazer over his white collared shirt. She’d practically laughed out loud when he put it on. The country club chic made him look amazing, but she hated that he clearly knew his way around the dragon’s little gated paradise.
The maitre d’s demeanor bristled as soon as he caught sight of Isa, despite the fact that he was also mere.
“Master Sidon, so glad you could join us today. I see you’ve brought a guest. Please make sure you sign her in at the main office.”
“Sure thing, Buck.” If he caught the hint of disapproval, Sidon didn’t show it. Instead he led her through starched hallways to a roster where he entered her name alongside his.
Sitting at their table, Isa couldn’t help noticing the stares that kept flickering her way. She didn’t have markings yet. Her legs and back were still pale and skin-colored, but both mere and dragons had a certain look to them, and everyone on Sirena knew perfectly well which was which.
The dark-skinned dragons were tall and regal looking. She’d never seen one under six feet, even a female. Their hair was stick-straight and black. Among so many, she could see where Sidon got his genes. He was much darker than a mere, but not nearly-charcoal like others of his kind. While full-blooded dragons had a scaly hardness to them, a snake-like quality that Isa found cold and a bit creepy, the man sitting next to her had just a sexy slink. She wondered what the other dragons thought of him, whether they found the differences attractive or repugnant.
The dining room was informal but spotless. The large open space had whitewashed paneling and hardwood floors and was attached to a wide patio with more tables. The haughty dragons spoke in low tones as they ate, muttering about business or sport. She found herself scooting her chair closer to her lunch date.
He placed a hand on hers. “Is, I’ve got to go talk to those guys over there.” He pointed across the room to a table mostly hidden. Now that she focused on it she could barely believe her eyes. One of the dragons was paler than her. His bearing was just as stiff and reptilian as the rest, but his skin looked almost albino, and his waist-length white-blonde hair looked almost mere. He brought to mind a Viking lost in the Caribbean.
As they approached the dragons’ table, Isa wondered if being impossibly handsome came standard with being a dragon. Both tall and incredibly cut, the dark one looked Asian on closer inspection, with striking cheekbones and exotic features. The pale one looked like a Norse god with his crisp blue eyes and shoulders that looked like they would barely fit through a door.
Sidon cleared his throat and gave Isa a grumpy little look. Her face flushed as she realized she’d been caught staring.
“Ismaelda, this is Laird,” he said, gesturing to the fair one, who inclined his head slightly. “This is Kai,” he said, gesturing to the Asian dragon, the chiseled one who seemed to wear a permanent scowl. The men’s heads stayed stationary during the introduction, as if they saw right though her.
“Sidon,” the one called Kai said, “The Council Chair has allotted us two
“Come on, sweetie. Please? I’ll keep those mean dragons away from you.” Playing on her need to be brave was a good angle as well.
“Oh, fine.” Bingo!
Sidon speared a few bites of eggs before frowning. “And Isa, don’t take anything they say too seriously, okay?”
She rolled her eyes at him and scowled. “Why would I take seriously anything a dragon says?”
* * * *
Sidon held her hand as they walked up the broad white stairs into Key Sirena Yacht Club. The colonial monstrosity jutted off the southern tip of the island amidst miles of manicured greens. They’d swung by Key West for a crisp kelly green polo shirt and a flower-print skirt for her to wear. Sidon wore a seersucker blazer over his white collared shirt. She’d practically laughed out loud when he put it on. The country club chic made him look amazing, but she hated that he clearly knew his way around the dragon’s little gated paradise.
The maitre d’s demeanor bristled as soon as he caught sight of Isa, despite the fact that he was also mere.
“Master Sidon, so glad you could join us today. I see you’ve brought a guest. Please make sure you sign her in at the main office.”
“Sure thing, Buck.” If he caught the hint of disapproval, Sidon didn’t show it. Instead he led her through starched hallways to a roster where he entered her name alongside his.
Sitting at their table, Isa couldn’t help noticing the stares that kept flickering her way. She didn’t have markings yet. Her legs and back were still pale and skin-colored, but both mere and dragons had a certain look to them, and everyone on Sirena knew perfectly well which was which.
The dark-skinned dragons were tall and regal looking. She’d never seen one under six feet, even a female. Their hair was stick-straight and black. Among so many, she could see where Sidon got his genes. He was much darker than a mere, but not nearly-charcoal like others of his kind. While full-blooded dragons had a scaly hardness to them, a snake-like quality that Isa found cold and a bit creepy, the man sitting next to her had just a sexy slink. She wondered what the other dragons thought of him, whether they found the differences attractive or repugnant.
The dining room was informal but spotless. The large open space had whitewashed paneling and hardwood floors and was attached to a wide patio with more tables. The haughty dragons spoke in low tones as they ate, muttering about business or sport. She found herself scooting her chair closer to her lunch date.
He placed a hand on hers. “Is, I’ve got to go talk to those guys over there.” He pointed across the room to a table mostly hidden. Now that she focused on it she could barely believe her eyes. One of the dragons was paler than her. His bearing was just as stiff and reptilian as the rest, but his skin looked almost albino, and his waist-length white-blonde hair looked almost mere. He brought to mind a Viking lost in the Caribbean.
As they approached the dragons’ table, Isa wondered if being impossibly handsome came standard with being a dragon. Both tall and incredibly cut, the dark one looked Asian on closer inspection, with striking cheekbones and exotic features. The pale one looked like a Norse god with his crisp blue eyes and shoulders that looked like they would barely fit through a door.
Sidon cleared his throat and gave Isa a grumpy little look. Her face flushed as she realized she’d been caught staring.
“Ismaelda, this is Laird,” he said, gesturing to the fair one, who inclined his head slightly. “This is Kai,” he said, gesturing to the Asian dragon, the chiseled one who seemed to wear a permanent scowl. The men’s heads stayed stationary during the introduction, as if they saw right though her.
“Sidon,” the one called Kai said, “The Council Chair has allotted us two
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