Vixen Read Online Free Page A

I’m pretty sure it’s going to have to involve talking. At least, any romance between me and Ion.
    “Radiant geothermal heat,” Ion explains, glancing back at me only briefly. “There’s actually a hot spring below the castle. This first floor is always comfortably warm, even in winter. The upper levels can get quite cool at times, though.” His voice is smooth, echoing pleasantly off the walls.
    He pauses at an ornately carved wooden door. “Here we are.” As he reaches for the handle, he meets my eyes again, but then pauses before opening the door, his face barely a foot away from mine.
    He is so handsome.
    “You look nervous.” He observes. His tone is not accusing, but almost…sympathetic?
    This is the part where I should smile a confident smile and assure him I know exactly what I’m getting into, that there’s nothing amiss and no reason for him to be suspicious of anything.
    I open my mouth to speak. “I was hoping to hide it better,” I blurt, and bury my face in my hands.
    Seriously, that’s the best I’ve got? Maybe I should have left with Jala. I suck at this seduction thing.
    Ion places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I think maybe he’s trying to be comforting or reassuring or something, but his touch reminds me why I’m here.
    This guy. I want to get close to this guy.
    “There’s still time for you to catch up to Jala, if you don’t want to be here. But I was hoping you could help me with my shoulders. Xalil has gotten weak in his old age and hasn’t been able to pop my shoulder blades properly for months. I suspect that’s part of why he’s taken such an extended vacation—he knows he’s no use to me anymore. And Jala tries. I know she tries, but the poor girl seems afraid she’s going to hurt me.” He laughs as though the very thought is simply absurd, and I move my hands so I can see his face.
    He is beautiful when he laughs.
    Ion continues, his voice smooth, even a bit hypnotic, his English impeccable, with just enough of a hint of a Russian accent to make him sound exotic. “I haven’t been able to take a deep breath in months. I feel as though I’m being slowly strangled. I didn’t want to insult Jala—I know she tries—but that’s why I sent her on, in hopes that by explaining everything openly to you, perhaps you can help me.”
    I’d half decided, at the beginning of his speech, to run after Jala and not come back. But by the time he’s done speaking I know I have to stay. Ion can’t even breathe properly? Arch-enemy or not, no one should have to live that way. And I do think I should be able to help him.
    Besides that, his hand is still on my shoulder and I don’t really want him to let go. Although I suppose he’ll have to, no matter what I choose. “I’ll stay.”
    The concerned look on his face blossoms into relieved happiness, and I can’t help returning his smile. At the same time, I’m marveling at how very young he looks. I’d always thought of him as this ancient dragon (I honestly don’t know how old he is) but like every other dragon, he’s only matured to adulthood and now he’s frozen in time, looking forever like any of the guys I go to college with back in the United States.
    Except unlike the guys at school, who dress in sloppy slouchy things that are sold as athletic-wear but most often used for sleeping or shuffling to class, Ion has all the style and dignity of a man from a bygone age. He has a sort of post-Victorian, Edwardian-era vibe, with a tailored jacket over a crisp white shirt.
    Ion opens the door and leads me into a small, warm interior room. He snaps on a light (electric, but not too bright), slips off his jacket, and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
    And I realize he’s not so much like the guys back at college, not unless they’ve been working out for the past hundred years. It’s weird because he’s more slender than my dad and brothers, who are pretty crazy muscular, but at the same time, Ion is totally ripped.
    Also,