Chapter 52 Incredibly Seductive
The night air was cool against her face.
Veyra stood on the balcony, leaning over the railing, her hair blowing across her cheeks. Below her, Dorian stepped out of the black car. The driver’s door closed with a solid thunk.
She smiled and then she waved.
"Welcome back," she called down.
Dorian looked up. His gray eyes found hers. His face was completely expressionless. Not a flicker of recognition. Not eben a hint of warmth.
He turned and walked toward the front door.
Veyra’s hand dropped to her side. Her smile faded.
She stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. Stupid. Like a child waving at a stranger who had no interest in waving back.
She went back inside.
She left her bedroom door slightly ajar.
Not wide open. Just a crack. Enough for someone to push open. Enough to signal that she was awake. That she was waiting.
She sat on the edge of the bed. Her hands were folded in her lap. Her heart was beating faster than it should have been.
She heard his footsteps in the hallway. Heavy. Measured. Getting closer.
The door creaked open.
Dorian walked in.
He was still wearing the same clothes from earlier. Dark pants. A black shirt. His hair was slightly disheveled. His jaw was tight.
He looked tired.
"Hi," Veyra said. She stood up. She tried to sound casual. Friendly. "I saved some cookies for you. The ones Lily and I made. They’re a little burnt, but they taste okay."
She gestured to the small plate on the dresser. Heart-shaped cookies. Pink icing. Slightly lopsided.
Dorian looked at the cookies. Then he looked at her.
His expression did not change.
"You want something," he said.
It was not a question.
Veyra’s cheeks flushed. She had been caught. She was not good at hiding her intentions. Never had been.
"I—" She hesitated. Her fingers twisted together. "There is something. Yes."
Dorian crossed his arms. He leaned against the doorframe. Waiting.
She took a breath.
"I want to learn combat skills," she said. "From Li Wei."
Dorian’s eyebrows rose. Just a fraction.
"He’s a Sanda champion," Veyra continued quickly. "Five years in the Special Forces. Rigorous combat training. He’s the best person to teach me."
Dorian said nothing.
"I know it’s unusual," she said. "A pregnant woman asking to learn how to fight. But I’m not asking for anything extreme. Just basic self-defense. Enough to protect myself if something happens."
Still, he said nothing.
"Please," she said. "Just consider it."
"No," Dorian said.
The word was flat and final.
Veyra’s heart sank. "Why not?"
"You’re pregnant."
"I know I’m pregnant. That’s exactly why I want to learn. So I can protect myself. Protect the baby."
"You’re not going to be in situations where you need to protect yourself. You have Li Wei. You have the estate security. You have me."
"What if none of you are there? What if something happens and I’m alone?"
Dorian’s jaw tightened. "That won’t happen."
"You can’t guarantee that."
The room was quiet.
Dorian stared at her. His gray eyes were hard. Unreadable.
Veyra met his gaze. She did not look away.
"I don’t want to be your Achilles’ heel," she said.
Dorian’s expression flickered.
"You said it yourself," she continued. "If I fall into the wrong hands, I become a weapon. A nuclear weapon. They would use me to destroy you."
She stepped closer.
"I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a weakness. I want to be strong. Capable. Someone who can defend herself. Someone who doesn’t need to be rescued."
She paused.
"If I can protect myself, I protect the baby too. And I protect you. Because no one can use me against you if I can fight back."
Her voice was steady. Her reasoning was clear.
Dorian was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, "You’ve thought about this."
"I’ve thought about nothing else."
He uncrossed his arms. He walked toward the window. He stood with his back to her, looking out at the dark garden.
"Fine," he said.
Veyra’s heart leaped. "Fine?"
"You can train. But under one condition."
"Anything."
"Dr. Harrison must be present at every session. On standby. In case something goes wrong."
"Yes. Absolutely. Of course."
Dorian turned to look at her. His face was still hard. But something in his eyes had softened. Just barely.
Veyra’s excitement bubbled over. She threw her arm up in a crisp salute.
"Thank you, sir!" she said. "I won’t let you down!"
Then she realized what she had done.
Her face went red. Her arm dropped to her side. She looked at the floor.
"I’m sorry," she mumbled. "I don’t know why I did that."
Dorian said nothing. But the corner of his mouth twitched.
Dorian walked into the walk-in closet.
The door closed behind him.
Veyra pulled out her phone. Her fingers flew across the screen.
Li Wei. He said yes.
The response came almost immediately.
Good ma’am. But I need to be clear: intense combat training is off-limits during pregnancy. It’s too dangerous for the baby.
Veyra’s heart sank slightly. But then another message came through.
However, I can teach you self-defense techniques. And firearms. Proper stance. Aiming. Trigger control. Shooting is low-impact and safe during pregnancy.
Veyra’s excitement returned. Stronger than before.
Yes! Yes, absolutely! When can we start?
Tomorrow. I’ll make the arrangements.
She set the phone down. She was buzzing with anticipation.
Shooting. She was going to learn how to shoot.
She lay back on the bed.
Her mind was racing. She could not stop thinking about it. The weight of the pistol in her hand. The sight alignment. The trigger pull. The way the bullet would leave the barrel and hit the target.
She closed her eyes. She imagined herself at a firing range. Standing straight. Feet shoulder-width apart. Arms extended.
She brought her hands up. She formed her fingers into a grip around an imaginary gun. She squinted one eye. She aimed at an imaginary target on the ceiling.
"Like this?" she whispered.
She adjusted her stance. Shifted her weight. Tucked her elbows in.
She was so focused that she did not hear the bathroom door open.
"What are you doing?"
Veyra’s eyes snapped open.
Dorian was standing at the foot of the bed.
He had just stepped out of the shower. His hair was damp. His skin was still flushed from the heat. He was wearing a bathrobe. White. Loose. The fabric hung open at his chest, revealing the hard lines of his pectorals. The ridges of his abdomen. His broad shoulders. His narrow waist.
Water droplets still clung to his skin.
Veyra’s mouth went dry.
She swallowed hard. Her eyes moved over him. She could not stop herself. He looked nothing like the cold, steely man who commanded boardrooms and intimidated bodyguards. He looked soft, warm and very human.
And incredibly, impossibly seductive.
Her heart pounded. Her cheeks burned. She could not look away.
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Veyra?"
She swallowed again.
She marveled at just how incredibly seductive Dorian Thorne truly was.