Rylana nodded. “That’s wise.”
After a thoughtful moment, he added, “It is good that you seek to make the diner successful and profitable. That is why I have made you my partner.”
“I thought it was because I almost dislocated my shoulder hurling bags of dwarven rock candy—more like lead-weight candy—at your enemies during the cooking contest.”
“Idoappreciate that you’ve gone into battle with me, both in the cooking arena and in the forest against overly aggressive would-be mates.”
Jildarin not only nodded at her but gave Rylana a gaze that made her body heat. Not for the first time, she noticed how handsome he was when he was in his human form, his short silver hair thick and lush, his clean-shaven jaw strong, and his emerald eyes striking.
Too bad he wasn’t interested inrecreational mating, as he called it. He’d been completely perplexed when his brother had suggested that sex with two-legged females could be interesting when one was shifted into that form himself.
“Nobody likes an overly aggressive mate,” Rylana murmured. She reminded herself that she was still getting over the loss of Captain Maverick and didn’t need a new romance in her life. Certainly not a romance with adragon.
“Or domineering family members who attempt to manipulate you into flying in a certain direction.” Jildarin chopped the spruce needles with more vigor than the task required.
“I’ll assume you’re not talking about my father, though that would also apply to him.”
Not long ago, Rylana had endured an awkward coffee date with Lord Gavin Avandar. It had been her first time sitting down to speak with her father in seventeen years—not that she’d had many earnest sit-down conversations with him before that. He’d only been open to speaking after learning she’d given up the mercenary lifestyle and was putting some of her academic skills to use, but he’d been underwhelmed by her choice to work in a diner. Several times, he’d tried to steer her toward the idea of coming to work in the family shipping business. Even though it had been right after Jildarin had won the vaunted Golden Whisk contest, Father hadn’t considered that good enough for a scion of their exalted family.
“I refer to my mother, who continues to send word to my brother that it’s my duty as a male of the clan to mate with numerous well-blooded female dragons. As I’ve told you, since many of our kind fell during the Ore War, she wants to ensure that we repopulate our species.” Though he’d made her partner and admitted he appreciated her, Jildarin couldn’t keep from slanting a dark look at Rylana, doubtless reminded that they’d not only been enemies during the war but that one of herarrows had carved the gouge that had left him with a scar near his eye.
“Parents can be difficult,” was all Rylana said, deciding they’d made enough progress in their relationship that she didn’t need to be affronted by the look. After all, it had been weeks since he’d referred to her asmy enemy.That was progress.
“Yes.” Jildarin nodded in firm agreement and resumed vigorous chopping.
“At least my father is away on a business trip for the next month, so I don’t have to worry about him renewing his pressure on me for a time.”
“My mother is leading the young dragons in the clan on a hunt in the scrublands and savannas east of the Skyfang Mountains to teach them how to locate, catch, and eviscerate the aberrant and aggressive—but also delicious—enchanted rhinoceros.”
“We practically have the same lives.”
“Their horns and legendary magic make them dangerous.”
Rylana assumed he referred to the rhinos, not the female dragons, but she would put them in a similar category.
“My father’s wealth, powerful contacts, and ability to exude disdain makehimdangerous,” she offered. “He’s not even enchanted.”
Before Jildarin could respond to that, the wheeled dish-collection contraption rolled through the swinging door and into the kitchen, the bin on top filled with dirty plates, mugs, and bowls. Gniknik, the black-haired, bare-footed gnome server ambled in after.
“The two elves who ordered the pan-seared-portobello and hedgehog-mushroom dish would like to see the bookkeeper who battled their kind during the war.” Gniknik looked at Rylana and raised his bushy eyebrows.
“I’m not seeing any elves,” she said.
Lately, when she’d run into their aloof kind in the city,they’d wanted to question her about her elven comrade, Sylin, a fellow former mercenary and an assassin who’d gone on missions againsther own kind during the war. The elves in Tranquility were supposedly as sworn to peace and getting along with other species as everyone else, but that hadn’t kept them from wanting to question Rylana about Sylin’s location.
“I told them the bookkeeper is usually busy running numbers in the back or making purchases for the restaurant and isn’t available,” Gniknik said.
“Thank you. You’re a good gnome.”
“I am, yes, but one of the elves grabbed me by the shirtfront and grew unsettlingly aggressive.” Gniknik touched the overalls he wore, tools sticking out of the pockets.
“That doesn’t sound like typical elven behavior,” Rylana said, “nor does one expect aggressive actions from the kinds of people who order fried mushrooms as their main course.”
“I don’t think food preferences have a lot to do with behavior,” Gniknik said. “Unless of course one is consuming soup that’s been treated with magical dragon spices.”
“I don’t know,” Rylana said. “Some preferences give you a bit of a hint about character. For example, I’d expect someone who makes a meal of eviscerated enchanted rhinoceroses to be dangerous.”
Jildarin reduced the flame heating his soup and walked toward the door. “You will show me to the elves. I will let them know that using threatening behavior toward my employees is not acceptable.”
