Read The Queen's Dance (Emerging Queens) for Free Online

waved away her worries. “I’m the same way with books.”
    Well, in that case… “Once you put in the boiling water, steep the tea for four minutes. Set a timer. No longer or the tea will be bitter.” Margery lingered in the doorway. “Okay?”
    Carolyn shooed her away.
    Fretting about the tea gave Margery something else to concentrate on other than what happened last night. She really hoped Remy was all right. He had been outnumbered and still he’d stood between them and her, protecting her even though she was a stranger to him. She wasn’t used to dragons being so selfless. Selfish, arrogant, yes. Down-to-earth and kind? Not so much.
    Remy’s bathroom was the size of her apartment. The first thing she did was go over to the sound system and turn it on. Casimiro’s latest hit echoed off the tiles. Snorting, she flicked it off. Speaking of self-centered jerks. Casimiro was an incredibly talented singer and songwriter. He was also a Chinese dragon, and one of Margery’s first assignments had been to interview him.
    She still couldn’t believe she’d slept with him after only knowing him an hour.
    “Whore,” she said to her reflection in the floor length, but there wasn’t any heat or recrimination in her voice. She was more concerned with the large bruises on her back and thighs. The only thing a dragon could do was hurt her heart, and she wasn’t letting a stud get that close ever again. Even if he did have a noble heart.
    The thought of Remy’s smile, though, made her grin. It was a secret one, though. Only for her and her reflection.
    At least the damage from being in the ship’s hold was starting to fade. Rolling her neck, Margery winced as her tight muscles protested. She ran the water as hot as she could stand it.
    The shower was a religious experience. Remy had multiple showerheads hitting her with gushes of water at every possible angle. She could stay in here for hours—Carolyn had been thoughtful enough to bring shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel that had the pleasant fragrance of a seaside breeze. The fresh scent enveloped her, the smell of the ocean transporting her sensually to a beach party.
    Most of the time, fragrances were all the vacation she could afford on her reporter salary. And when she came home to her apartment, she’d light a candle depending on her mood. Apple pie was one of her favorites when she was feeling lonesome, which was often. It got so bad that she pretended the chefs on the Food Network were part of her crazy family. The peppy, happy one that cooked fast was her zany sister. The rotund Italian chef was her favorite uncle, who would bring Perugina chocolates to her for the holidays. She even picked the sweet old Southern gal to be her mom. They were just television personalities, but the fantasy was better than the reality. Her sister was a grifter, strung out on drugs most of the time. Her uncle had molested them, and her mother was in jail. Yeah, she’d take fried butter and salmon sammies over that any day.
    Toweled off, she got into the clothes that Carolyn had brought. They were a little big, but at least they were girl clothes. She was going to miss wearing Remy’s shirt. After a moment of consideration, she folded it up and stashed it in the overnight bag Carolyn had given her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind that she’d nicked it from him. Inside the bag, there was even a makeup bag with clips for her hair.
    “You really think of everything,” she said, coming back downstairs to the smell of bacon frying up in a pan.
    “I’ve been there.”
    Margery made a beeline for the tea Carolyn had strained into four mugs and added milk and sugar to hers. She took a deep swallow, trying not to gulp it.
    “It’s perfect,” she said to a beaming Carolyn. “It’s the best damned cup of tea I’ve ever had.” Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. She was no longer a victim. If she kept telling herself, maybe she’d believe it.
    Carolyn turned to her and