"I do not challenge you for your mate, Vireo." I don't know if everyone breathed a sigh of relief at Gabriel's words, but I sure did. Until he went and ruined it. "Yet."

Drake made him a formal bow. "I await your pleasure."

"Oh, for heaven's sake.Can we stop with the manly ... er ... dragonly posturing, please? No one is challenging anyone."

"Someone already has," Istvan muttered under his breath, shooting me a look that could pierce cement.

Drake evidently saw reason (at last) because he gestured toward the rest of the dragons. "Beyond Maata is Shing and Sying, elite guards of LungTik Chuan Ren, the wyvern of the red dragons. Her mate is Li."

Li gave me a tight-lipped smile, turning solicitously toward his wyvern. Chuan Ren wore a scarlet dress so heavily embroidered with gold, pearls, hematite, and jade that it must have weighed a ton. The front laced up to the bottom of her breastbone, leaving most of her chest exposed, her nipples just barely hidden by the wide red ribbon lacing. It was sexy, scandalous, and deliberately worn to be as provocative as possible, and I knew the minute her assessing gaze passed over my rumpled, sweat-stained gauze skirt and blouse that she dismissed me as being not worth her consideration.

"Your name, it is a man's?" she asked in nearly unaccented English.

"No, my name, it is Irish. But very female." I rustled up a polite smile before sitting in the chair Drake held for me, reminding myself that all I had to do was sit and nod and just make it through the lunch without Fiat throwing a monkey wrench in the peace talks, or the dragons starting a plague on humankind, or Jim embarrassing me any further. Three little things, that's all I had to do. Four if you counted getting Drake aside long enough to warn him that Fiat was up to no good.

Drake snapped his fingers, and out of a dense clutch of palms a waiter in black appeared, hurrying toward me with two plates of salad in his hands. He paused before Jim, giving the demon a curious glance, but at a word from Drake he placed the salad carefully on the table before turning to me.

Endive, arugula, and escarole scattered everywhere as the waiter suddenly flung the plate down and threw himself on me, his mouth pressed against my neck, his hands caressing me.

"Um," I said. Every single person at the table was staring at me, eyebrows raised at the sight of a waiter slurping away on my neck while groping my nearby available body parts. I scooped a few bits of greens back onto the salad plate and lifted my fork. "So, how are the negotiations going?"

Drake cocked a glossy black eyebrow, his voice dry as he asked, "Is there something you wish to share with us, mate?"

"Share?" I asked, my voice cracking as between kisses the waiter murmured soft words into my collarbone, his hands sweeping upward to my breasts. I plucked them off and put them back on my waist. "I haven't the slightest idea what you mean. Oh, him?" I laughed a gay little Laugh. Or I tried to—what came out was more than a little tinged with hysteria. "You mean this man glued to my front? Think nothing of it. I believe my great and overwhelming charm is overcoming men, and helpless against me, they—"

I stopped. I had to. Not even in my wildest, most unrealistic dreams did I believe that it was plain old Aisling Grey who had men suddenly powerless with lust. Something supernatural was going on, and I finally had the sense to admit it.

Drake said something in Hungarian that had the waiter lifting his head from my neck, but the rest of him was still pressed tightly against me. He shook his head and refused to leave me. Drake insisted. I sat helpless, embarrassed as hell, mentally going over everything I had done since arriving in Hungary to figure out what it was that was making me irresistible.

"Never mess with a dragon's mate," Jim warned the waiter seconds before Drake's fire flashed in his eyes. The waiter let go of me then, flinging himself from me to run screaming from the room.

"I didn't know you could set people's hair on fire with just a look," I told Drake.

He shrugged. "You never asked. Now let us see what it is that is causing such trouble." His long fingers were warm on my collarbone as he plucked out the chain holding the dragon talisman. Immediately, twelve pairs of eyes lit up.

"No!" I said firmly, giving each and every dragon present a quelling look. "It has hardly any gold on it, and it's not valuable, and it's mine, you all got that? Mine! No one takes it!"

Chuan Ren looked closely at it for a moment before brushing it away with her scarlet and gold-tipped fingernails. "It is the Qing dynasty. Very poor quality."

"The talisman is not what is causing your difficulties," Drake said, his fingers dipping down under my blouse.

"Hey!" I said, momentarily scandalized before his hand emerged with the amulet. I wasn't fooled, though. His fingers had done a little extra touching while down in the Valley o' Breasts.

He pulled the thin chain- bearing the amulet over my head, holding the piece up to catch the sunlight that streaked in through the palm leaves, the amber and white crystal gleaming brightly as he turned it. "What do the markings say?"

"I have no idea. My uncle thought they were Etruscan. The provenance says the piece came from an Italian collector of Pompeian artifacts, so it might well be—kind of a side interest, I guess."

"Allow me to see it," Fiat said, reaching for the amulet.

"No!" I shouted, leaning forward to snatch the crystal out of Drake's hand. Fiat's eyes narrowed at me, his nostrils flaring with anger over my apparent rudeness.

"I'm sorry, but no one gets to touch this. It's not mine to share. It belongs to someone else, and until I deliver it I'm responsible for its safekeeping."

"Aisling, Fiat has asked to see the amulet, not steal it from you." Drake's voice was low and persuasive, but I wasn't going to allow it to seduce me into handing over the amulet.

"I might be able to translate the markings for you, "Fiat added, his lips stretched into a tight smile that didn't match the coldness in his eyes. "I have some experience with ancient languages of Italy."

"Thank you, That's very kind. I'll be sure to tell the buyer of your generous offer."

"Aisling," Drake said in my ear, his voice as soft.and caressing as the fingers that stroked the back of my neck. "You are being impolite. This summit is a time for the septs to put away their differences and work toward common understanding. Your distrust of Fiat will unmake all the work we have done so far."