by Starla Night
Earth didn’t have anything they wanted to conquer, honestly.
And, although they were each multi-billionaires in comparison to a regular person, not too many dragons were interested in “roughing it” on Earth. Nothing had changed much since the first arrival.
Until now.
Kyan put away his device and closed the second medkit. “The perpetrator received the medkit implements through the mail. I must locate the source before additional parts cause more damage.”
“Got it.” Her heart ached for his injured friend. “I hope your patient has an easy recovery.”
“He will heal in a few days.”
Days? “His chest cavity was burned open!”
“He received proper care.” Kyan returned the second kit to the cabinet. “Pyro’s injury will heal quickly with little scarring.”
They’d cycled back to another opening for her to ask about his scars and why he’d wanted her to stare at them. She tried again. “Are scars attractive to dragons?”
“Attractive?” He snorted. “No.”
“Then why…”
Why hadn’t he used his superior no-scarring medical technology on his face?
He answered her unspoken question while staring at the open cabinet with a frown. “It is easier to heal new injuries than old. Mine are very, very old.”
“Why weren’t they healed when they were new?”
His rough voice dropped to a murmur she almost missed. “There is great evil in the universe.”
She held her breath.
Without taking his eyes off the cabinet, he spoke quietly. “Homes for orphaned dragonlets have limited resources. One ‘prank’ is a waste to heal. The next day, another ‘prank’ is also a waste. And then, eventually, there are so many ‘pranks’ that healing anything is a waste.”
“By ‘prank’ you mean the other residents of the home bullied you?”
“No. Others in my city objected to my face. They attempted to burn it off.”
Oh god. “And the adults didn’t stop it? They said healing you was a waste?”
“A low caste dragon has no need for an unblemished appearance. He will never catch the attention of a female — unless her attention is disgust.”
Her eyes watered.
Since taking up clinical rotations, Laura broke tragic diagnoses to lovely people every night. And she’d gotten pretty good at burying her real feelings beneath the professional mask her patients needed — the mask that focused on symptoms and solutions and being a professional rock in a sudden, horrible storm.
But she wasn’t treating Kyan, and she hadn’t expected a story so sad. Imagining a cute little boy all alone in the world hurt and ignored by the adults who were supposed to care for him made her want to go into the past and hug him close, rock him, and tell him it would all be okay.
A lump formed in her throat and her eyes watered so hard she had to sniff furiously.
His gaze whipped to her in confusion. “Are you injured?”
“Not physically.” She scrubbed her cheeks. “Just … wishing I could … kiss it and make it better.”
“Kiss it?”
“It’s a … a childhood thing.” She waved her hand, sniffing. “Kids stub a toe and their parents can kiss it and make it better.”
That was clearly something he’d never experienced. His parents had, for whatever reasons, failed to be there for him and the orphan care adults had obviously had hearts made of stone — if they’d had hearts at all.
“I wish I could make them better.”
“My dragon form is worse.”
Oh. Right, he had a whole other form. She regained her control. “Can I see?”
“No.” His jaw flexed. He finally closed the cabinet. “The scars no longer hurt.”
But actually, she thought maybe they still did. Otherwise, why would he draw her attention to them right after she tried to tell him he looked normal?
“You were so little and helpless.”
“I was never small.” He opened and closed the rest of the room’s cabinets, searching for the third medkit. “They targeted me because I was large. My soft attitude prolonged the attacks.” He looked at her sideways. “I hardened.”
He must have. Because now, he was hard as a diamond. A fully capable head of security who had seen the evil in the world and fought to protect innocents.
He closed the final cabinet with a decisive click. “Where is the third medkit?”
Uh oh.
They searched the floor, all the storage cabinets, and then they returned to the main floor and she ran the problem past Sabrina.
“Can this wait?” Sabrina clenched her pen and clearly wanted Laura back on duty. “The day shift will know where to find it.”
Or it would be another charge nurse’s problem.
“Someone attempted murder with a stolen medkit,” Laura explained. “Fourth-degree burns into the chest cavity. One of ours is missing. It doesn’t look good.”
Sabrina swore under her breath and picked up the phone. Another hushed call to the director later, she motioned for Laura to give Kyan access to any part of the hospital he wanted. “The ambulance bay. Helicopter pad. Basement storage. Anywhere.”
They searched.
Laura hoped her workplace wasn’t at fault for the injuries, and she also used the time to try to think of something helpful to say. Something that wasn’t, Can I give you a hug? Or, the more adult version, Can I kiss you even though it’s too late to make it all better?
Kissing would make her feel better. Too much better in places that craved but didn’t have much experience with a man’s touch.
Kyan’s touch would be good.
Every time they entered a new hall, Kyan strode through the doorway first, his head pivoting and his trench coat flaring as he cased the space. The control in his movements held the grace of a dancer, but any performance would be lethal to a criminal.
Their search was mostly silent. Perhaps he rarely spoke and his extended conversation earlier had been out of character.
Laura didn’t mind peaceful silence. Everything about Kyan exuded serene capability and lethal confidence.
Only in the basement did he startle her.
“That’s all the light switches,” she said, in response to his request for more visibility. “Sorry.”
“The lighting for these shelves is inadequate.” His voice echoed above her.
She glanced his way in the cramped aisle.
He was floating! Off the ground!
His black, steel-toed boots hovered approximately one additional foot above the cement. His head brushed the cobwebbed ceiling.
She gasped.
He looked down at her. “Problem?”
It was too late to school her surprise.
Of course Kyan could fly. All dragons could.
Activating a rare mineral in his blood let him transform, ripping his shirt and jeans to shreds as he morphed into a scaled dragon straight out of a medieval herald. The dragon aliens had first surveyed Earth during the Middle Ages and their impression had lingered in Earth’s cultural memory even though the history had been lost.
Or he could fly without transforming. That mineral, stellarium, reversed gravity in either form. Just now, Kyan hovered above the shelves like a special ops version of Superman.
Most of the universe had a genetic ability to shift into animals or fly. Only sad, backward Earth was populated by humans with a recessive gene that prevented them from changing form or taking flight.
Something about Kyan caused her emotions to vault to the surface.
“I forgot you can do that.” Laura tried to laugh off her reaction, but the sound warbled. “How convenient! Nothing is ever out of your reach.”
“Nothing…” His gaze narrowed. “Is that what you think?”
Hmm. He was not talking about physical objects. His words from earlier returned to her mind.
He will never catch the attention of a female — unless her attention is di
sgust.
But she didn’t want to jump to a conclusion. “We’ll find the missing medkit and you’ll stop the bad guys.”
“You are strangely confident.”
“It will happen.”
“You know how?”
Because they’d been searching for hours and he didn’t seem remotely tired. “You’ve survived. You won’t let the bad guys who scarred you harm others.”
“I am not involved in orphan care.”
“Evil,” she clarified. “You’ve seen evil and you won’t stop until it’s vanquished.”
He blinked and then descended until his weight rested once more on his boots. A little too close. She stepped back to give him room. He stepped forward, hemming her against the basement column.
Her throat went dry.
“You pretend to know me,” he growled, low and rough. The sound nipped at her like sweet teeth teasing her piqued nipples. “Why do you play this game?”
She licked her lips, daring to challenge him. “Am I wrong?”
He focused on the quick movement of her tongue.
The heat, never really banked, flared between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together.
He smelled of Kevlar and male. Spicy. And also severe. Like his eyes, the blue of the underside of a glacier. So beautiful. So cold.
But right now his irises seemed to crackle with a blue heat.
He’d backed her against the nearest basement support column. Would he bury his mouth in her kiss? Or grip her hips, undress her with his teeth, and thrust his cock into her while she held his rippling shoulders and gasped in ecstasy?
It wouldn’t happen. He had too much control, and his control was the aphrodisiac that allowed her to feel safe and enjoy the fantasy.
A girl could dream.
She started to turn away and bumped a light switch with her elbow. The aisle behind him went dark.
Something buried in the aisle glowed.
“Ah,” she said.
He followed her gaze over his shoulder. Spinning on his heels, he released her — unfortunately — and they converged on the missing third medkit.
It was jammed in with a bunch of old organ transportation cases even though it was larger and more glowy. He operated the locks and opened it. Inspecting the contents, he frowned and closed it again slowly.
“Is everything there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Oh, thank goodness. Their hospital was not the culprit. But that meant he had to start over with no leads.
They returned the medkit to the top floor Dragon Suite cabinet with the others. But it didn’t fit, which was probably why it had ended up in the basement storage. Laura reorganized the cabinets so the doors could be closed again. Now all the medkits were reunited in the luxurious Dragon Suite where they belonged.
Laura led Kyan out, making sure the suite locked behind them, and down the hushed hallway to the elevator. After swiping the controls to call it, she checked her wristwatch. “What are you doing now?”
“Continuing the search for the contraband medkit.”
“Did you want to…?”
Oh, the words had popped out before she realized what she was doing. Asking a male out for the first time since her great mistake? Wow.
And now he was staring at her.
She heated.
Better to finish even though it might be too soon.
“Uh, did you want to go for coffee? I got off twenty minutes ago. There’s a really cute cafe next to my apartment.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened.
He didn’t enter and neither did she.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because we could go, talk, drink coffee. You know.”
“Talk about what?”
“Anything.”
The doors of the elevator closed again, leaving them alone in the plush VIP hallway.
“Like this,” she said. “Just talk.”
He stepped into her space, backing her against the smooth, subdued wall. His masculine presence overwhelmed her. His muscular thighs radiated heat and her fingers twitched to grip the loops of his black jeans and draw him hard against her, rub until she could feel the hard length of his cock.
His gaze searched her face. “You are not afraid of me.”
“Should I be?”
“It is an anomaly.”
“Why?”
“Again, you ask that question. Don’t you see…?” He changed the sentence, his gaze narrowed. “I do not like anomalies.”
Was it possible she unsettled him? Him, the giant, scarred dragon warrior?
She leaned forward, daring him to step back. “Then get coffee and figure me out.”
His jaw flexed. “I cannot.”
No, of course not. Her stomach dipped.
They didn’t know each other. Her attraction was sudden and weird. Just because she felt a connection didn’t mean he shared it. And he was like a celebrity. A billionaire at that.
She strove for a careless tone so she wouldn’t sound even more pathetic. “Too busy fighting crime, huh?”
“You are…” He shook his head. “An unusually tender-hearted female.”
What, because she’d teared up during his story of child abuse? “I’ve heard worse. You surprised me. I’m not that tender-hearted.”
“To swallow back your disgust for so long in my presence shows you are not an ordinary female.”
Disgust? “I’m not swallowing back anything.”
His disbelief remained.
Her anger flared.
Those orphan care employees had damaged him even worse than the bullies. How dare he continue to believe their harsh words? He was an adult now. Gorgeous, sexy, commanding. It was time for him to break free.
She reached a hand around the back of his broad neck and tugged his face down to her level.
After a slight, confused resistance, he lowered.
She cupped his scarred jaw.
His eyes flew wide.
“Those people lied to you. No female automatically looks at you with disgust.”
He nodded slowly in recognition. “You look with anger.”
“Can’t you guess why?”
Silence.
“You must read a lot of people in your line of work.” She stroked her thumb over his lower lip. Dry, from the hospital air, and rough like the rest of him but also tender. “When you read me, what do you see?”
“Anger.”
“And?”
His gaze flicked over her face and centered on her parted lips.
If she burned any hotter with desire, she’d burst into flames.
And then she’d hunt down and chastise all those people who’d said such terrible things to him. And she’d smother him in healing kisses and make certain he knew he was not so alone.
But really, as soon as he got her feelings, she’d let him go.
With their faces millimeters apart, her hot breath reflecting off his cheek, he’d have to realize it.
He almost looked like he understood … and then he shook his head. “You do not make sense.”
What?
He didn’t refuse her feelings. He hadn’t pushed her hand off or backed away. He seemed confused.
Her patience snapped. “Then let me be more clear.”
Their lips hovered millimeters apart. She closed the distance.
His lips hung lax against hers — with shock.
She pleased herself, tracing their firm shape and commanding presence. This was the mouth that growled orders. She teased him, nibbled softly, tasted.
He held his breath.
His spice filled her like a drug. She would never get tired of his taste. His glossy hair tickled her fingers. She stroked the locks.
He still held his breath.
Uh oh. Was he going to pass out?
She pulled back.
He stared at her. As startled at the end as when she’d initiated the kiss.
She wiped his glistening lips wit
h her hand and wiped her own mouth also.
He blinked and slowly straightened. Not pulling back in horror. Not rejecting her. Genuinely flummoxed and adorably off-balance. His hair flopped askew from her strokes. It was funny. Although she would have preferred him yanking her into his arms and passionately kissing her back.
“Did you figure it out?” she asked.
He blinked rapidly.
Every nerve in her body hummed. Her face flamed at her unusual bravery.
She hit the elevator call button.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure he had figured it out, but she was about to die of embarrassment for overstepping her natural boundaries and kissing a virtual stranger — even though he was really hot — only a few hours after meeting him. And at work no less.
Although the VIP floor was more like a fancy hotel than a hospital.
The elevator dinged, giving her an escape.
She tugged her scrubs to straighten them. “If you want another hint, I get off at the same time tomorrow. The offer for coffee is still open. You know where to find me.”
He seemed like the kind of person who could find her anyway, but she wanted no doubt.
The elevator doors started to close.
She darted inside.
Sensing her entry, the doors opened again.
She jammed the ground floor button.
Kyan should know. Even if he wasn’t attracted to her, hopefully, he’d be complimented by her interest and gain more confidence in pursuing a “female” he did like. Her kiss might counteract the awful things he believed about himself. Just a little was okay.
He remained frozen in the middle of the VIP hall.
As the elevator doors closed a second time, his blue gaze nailed on her. Sharp, as though he’d finally broken free of his stupor.
“You are not disgusted.”
She shook her head.
He frowned again, directing his gaze at the plush carpet. He’d worn the same frown when they’d opened the third medkit and known for certain nothing had been stolen.
He found something in her he wasn’t expecting. And he didn’t know how to proceed.
The doors shut out the last sliver of the hallway.
On an impulse, she hit the button to force the elevator open again.
It whooshed to reveal an empty hallway. The window at the far end of the hall hung open to the starry night.
