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about him, even after many years and much familiarity, never failed to make Finch wish that—
Never mind. There was no point at all in wishing for the impossible. Especially not now.
Finch carefully placed the tray between Hugh’s spread legs, then collected the file folder
containing the list from Hugh’s nightstand and came to sit at the bedside, where he’d be able
to see Hugh’s chosen profile while maintaining a polite amount of distance. His employer had
other ideas. After collecting the breakfast tray, Hugh scooted across the bed to sit at Finch’s
side, so close their arms were brushing. The sheet over his groin had fallen away. Finch
resolved to keep his chin level and his eyes on the matter at hand, but a low tingling spread
through his stomach regardless. He wished it would mind its own business and go away.
“What do you think of her, Finch?” Hugh asked in dulcet tones, selecting the topmost profile
from the stack and presenting it to Finch. “Astrid Forsberg, an Opal Disgrace. She’s beautiful,
isn’t she?”
Astrid was quite beautiful. With long white hair done in a crown of braids, a strong but narrow
jaw, and crystalline blue eyes, she would complement Hugh’s darkness. They would be day
and night, her and her dragon, a stunning marriage of classically defined femininity and old-
world chivalry.
“I think she would be an excellent choice, sir,” Finch remarked in a quiet voice.
Hugh rested his head on Finch’s shoulder, and Finch could feel his smile. “I think so, too.
Would it be within your purview to send her a calling card on my behalf?”
Finch closed his eyes and hoped his hammering heart would not alert Hugh that something
was amiss. “Of course, sir.”
“Wonderful.” Hugh sank onto the bed and stared blissfully at the ceiling. The sight of him
smiling so handsomely worsened the beating of Finch’s heart. “Just think of it… after all these
years, a clutch of my own.”
Finch eased up from the bed and responded in a neutral tone before he left to continue on with
his day. He would never let on that he had thought of it. Often. Sometimes incessantly, much
to his own chagrin. But a pretty Opal omega had never been part of the fantasy.
With a quiet smile, Finch dismissed the thought and threw himself into overseeing the
production of Hugh’s calling card. It was his duty, after all. He’d serve his dragon as nature
intended and take comfort in simply being near him, no matter how badly his heart wished
