The Dragon's Heart (Dragon Lore Book 1)
A furious Daniel towered over her.
Realizing she was in an ambulance, she scooted back on the stretcher, pulling the sheet tighter around herself. Something was very, very off. There was no pain or range of motion issue with her shoulder. There was just a blackness where the last hour should have been. Whatever was wrong with her, it ran core deep, and had everything to do with the man treating her as if she’d caused all the wrongs in his world.
She let out a pathetic snort. He had vanished on her, leaving her to face the last year alone. The media wasn’t forgiving at the best of times, and they’d had a field day--field year--with America’s Good Girl falling from grace. A dead body, and the disappearance of the man accused of the crime, was too good of a story for the media not to run around the clock for a month straight.
It didn’t make any sense why he hated her. For as much hell as he’d caused her in the last eleven months, professionally and personally, nothing had prepared her for the blast of emotions that rocked her at seeing him standing close to her again. She had no idea what to do with the realization she’d missed him. As soon as she figured out what the hell was going on, she needed deep psychological help.
“So.” She was careful to keep her left arm tucked against her stomach as she tried in vain to put more distance between them. It still didn’t hurt, but the thought of ripping the rapidly healing wound open made her queasy. She’d never been a big fan of blood. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she tried not to worry about how much space he took up, even while sitting on the bench. He was huge. “You’re alive.” When he leaned forward, bringing them closer together, she tried to keep her face impassive. Her gaze dropped to the huge forearms he braced against tree trunk-sized thighs, before she snapped her attention back to his face. He was a lunatic who looked to be on the verge of major violence. She wasn’t so confused she didn’t understand the combination was a powder keg with a lit fuse. “I wasn’t sure. The police said you were gone before the ambulance ever got to the hospital.”
She almost snorted at him. She’d spent the last year hoping he was still alive, and trying not to let the uncertainty drive her out of her mind. “I didn’t get myself shot on purpose, you know. So whatever you’re mad at me about, it’s not my fault. I didn’t ask them to call you.”
“Right.” He dragged his gaze from the mark over her heart back to her face. Though she was sure she was imagining it, she could have sworn his eyes lingered on her mouth. “Just like the Hunter showing up in your bedroom was just a weird twist of fate?”
“A hunter?” She asked, certain she was missing a huge part of the conversation. “Daniel, my house was in the most exclusive part of Los Angeles. There isn’t anywhere to hunt.”
She remembered that word from their first date. He’d told her it was an ancient dragon curse because his sister didn’t like him using cuss words. Funny. She’d thought it was sweet at the time. Now she was sure it just made him bat-shit crazy.
Dragon's Redemption (Dragon Lore Book 2)
Dallas’s growling started again the second they were out of Daniel and Shelby’s home and Lily reminded him that she still needed clothes. His growling lasted all the way through their non-adventurous trip to the neighborhood Big Box store.
It would have been kind of adorable if she wasn’t so worried about his sanity.
His home was cozier than she’d expected. His apartment took up the entire fifth floor of a charming brick building, and while it was done in dark leathers and woods, it wasn’t completely soulless.
As she followed him into his tidy bedroom, his arms loaded with bags, she immediately noticed the fire escape. It was one of those things Adrian had taught her—always know your exits.
His bed was the surprise. A huge, hand-carved four-poster bed took up nearly all the space in the room. The comforter was dark green and looked even comfier than her big, fluffy one, and it was piled with pillows.
After Dallas dropped the bags onto his bed, she moved to stand in front of him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?”
“You about scared that poor lady to death back there.”
“I regret nothing.”
“She sneezed, Dallas.”
He snorted derisively as he went to his dresser, pulled out the top drawer, and dumped its contents on the bed. “You can put your stuff in here.”
This was not how she’d imagined this moment in her life. Being given a drawer was supposed to be a huge deal, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that how humans sometimes asked their mates to move in—permanently—with them?
Reading the question on her face, he tossed the drawer on the bed. Grabbing one of her bags, he upended it into the drawer before grabbing the next bag and repeating the process.
“Okay, fine,” she muttered, putting herself in front of him again and spreading her arms out. “I’ll take the drawer. Just stop dumping my stuff all over.” When he looked confused, she laughed out loud. “I’m a girl. I fold things.”
The uncertainty on his face moved into his eyes. “Why?”
She opened her mouth to explain, then moved into him instead. Going up on her toes, she only meant to kiss his chin and tell him thank you for everything he’d done for her, but when his soft green eyes clashed with hers, she forgot everything but the need to feel his mouth on hers again. Taste him again.
Tangling her hands in his hair, she fisted the soft strands and pulled his mouth to hers. The hunger slammed into her out of nowhere, leaving her shaking and breathless. Determined. He responded instantly, the rough sound of need that tore out of his massive chest fueling her, urging her on, and without warning, he had her hitched up and then on her back on the bed.
His mouth was greedy as they fought to bare and taste naked skin, their hands desperate as they tore at clothes. She barely had time to grip his shoulders and hold on before he lifted her hips, closed his lips over the tip of her breast, and drove into her.