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“My apologies, Finch,” Hugh whispered into his ear, his voice sweet, smooth, and devastatingly
enticing. “There truthfully isn’t anything else, but my dragon’s got it in his head that you smell
delightful. It’s quite peculiar. It’s not often I indulge the beast, but I couldn’t help myself. I had
to know the truth and lo and behold, you smell simply divine. Isn’t that odd?”
“Yes, sir, quite,” Finch managed to say, which was, perhaps, the understatement of the year.
Hugh
The next morning, Hugh met Finch at precisely eleven and ushered him into his Audi. When
they were safely buckled and George had begun to drive, Hugh hit a button on the back panel,
which activated the car’s privacy screen.
“Thank you for coming out with me today, Finch,” Hugh said when the screen was in place and
George was out of earshot. “I appreciate your company.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.”
“Now that we have the assurance of privacy, would you like to know where we’re going?”
There was a pause during which Finch pursed his lips and nudged one of the many brightly
colored gift-wrapped boxes crammed around their feet. “I would. I assume it has something to
do with all these boxes?”
“Gifts, Finch. They’re gifts.” Hugh smiled, but even when trying his best to act positive, a trace
of sorrow sobered his voice. “They’re for my nephews. Alistair’s whelps turned seven last week,
and Sebastian’s whelps are turning eight in the next few days. My brothers have organized a
party to celebrate. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me, but I’m feeling especially
vulnerable after meeting my father’s mate. I’ll be the only Drake there without a bonded mate
and children of his own, and…” Hugh pushed a noisy breath through his nostrils. “Well, I didn’t
want to be alone.”
Finch’s expression immediately softened. “Sir…”
“But you needn’t worry—I organized my purchases to make sure there were presents from you
as well.” Hugh scooped the nearest box up. “See?” He examined its label, saw its benefactor
was listed as “Uncle Hugh,” and tossed the box aside. It clanked and jingled as it fell. “Not that
one. This one, though”—the box was wrapped in glossy purple paper accented with golden
pinstripes—“this one is definitely from you.”
It wasn’t.
