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Hugh frowned. “All of this is my doing. I should have stepped in to help. I’d hoped our day out
would provide you with some relief, but I suppose it was too little, too late. You’ve been
shouldering all of this for so long that it was ridiculous of me to think a single day of pampering
would help.”
“Nngh,” Finch argued.
“Well, it’s all behind us now, Finch,” Hugh told him. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of and that
you get well. If this is an ongoing issue, we’ll tackle your recovery together. You are not alone.”
To prove it, Hugh nosed his soft hair and kissed the top of his head. Lord, the smell of him…
Hugh closed his eyes and lingered there, wanting to breathe it in forever.
Which was how a small army of kitchen staff found them when the elevator doors slid open.
“Mr. Drake!” gasped Emma, scandalized.
Hugh opened his eyes and faced the crowd. “Well, this isn’t the second floor. I must have
pressed the wrong button.” He eyed the panel. The button for the second floor was still lit. “Oh.
Well. I… suppose you called the elevator, then?” He stepped to the side, making some—but
not enough—room for the staff and their empty carts. “Come. If we squish, there should be
space.”
“I…” Emma’s mouth hung open in astonishment, as if she’d never seen a dragon carry a man
before. Several of her underlings looked equally as startled. It perplexed Hugh to the extreme.
“We… no, thank you, Mr. Drake. We’ll wait. We’re destined for the cellar. There’s no sense in
invading your privacy when we’re headed in different directions.”
“Ah! Of course.” The door began to close. Hugh stuck out his foot to block it. “Emma, since I
have you here, could I talk you into doing me a favor?”
Emma glanced nervously to the side, then looked Hugh over carefully and offered him a thin
smile. “Arrangements for bedroom dining until further notice, sir?”
“What? No. Although I do imagine I’ll be tired tomorrow, so perhaps having breakfast sent up
to my room wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
Emma’s eyes went very wide.
Meanwhile, the elevator beeped angrily, bapping Hugh’s foot several times in quick
succession. Hugh scowled at it. “It seems this blasted elevator’s developed an attitude
problem, so I’ll be brief—would you track down our event planner and let her know I’ll be late
