Flashfire

by Deborah Cooke

  “So you know him?”

  “Unfortunately.” Lorenzo grimaced and she smiled again.

  “Not friends?”

  “No.” An explanation of Balthasar and his objectives was not what Lorenzo wanted to talk about. He dropped his voice to a murmur. “I prefer to keep my privacy.”

  He let the simmer of desire grow, and took a step closer to Cassie. She didn’t run. In fact, her smile broadened, turned a little bit mysterious. He liked how her gaze slipped over him, the way she bit her luscious bottom lip. He wanted to bite it himself.

  Cassie caught her breath, that tempting flush staining her cheeks. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” she whispered. She glanced at the broken windows. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  Lorenzo shook his head. “Not tonight. Maybe not ever.” He felt his eyes narrow. “I made him regret the intrusion once. Don’t you think I will again?”

  Her flush deepened with her obvious pleasure and Lorenzo felt his pulse leap. “You were amazing,” she murmured, surveying him with awe.

  That was exactly what his dragon yearned to hear. Lorenzo wanted to preen. He took a step closer, was surrounded by her scent, and lost the battle against her allure.

  “Where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted?” he murmured.

  Cassie smiled and beckoned for him to come closer. “You were just about here,” she said, her eyes shining. “Although you hadn’t said anything. I’m not sure what you had in mind.”

  “Aren’t you?” Lorenzo moved to that spot and raised his fingertip to Cassie’s cheek. He felt her shiver in anticipation. He smelled the heady scent of her arousal. He kissed her beneath her ear and glanced down her shirt at that delicious pink bra.

  He knew he’d never been so tempted by a woman before.

  And his dragon’s needs weren’t entirely responsible for that change.

  He parted the front of her shirt and bent to kiss between her breasts. He heard her sweet gasp of pleasure, smiled against her skin, then unbuttoned her shirt. Her breasts filled his hands, the nipples taut with a desire that echoed his own. Lorenzo took one peak in his mouth and surrendered to Cassie’s allure.

  The celebration had begun.

  Chapter 10

  An hour later, Cassie awakened from a luxurious doze. She was lying naked on the creamy leather couch, the cool night air of the desert wafting through the broken windows to the atrium. She could see the moon riding high overhead, surrounded by stars, and sighed in contentment.

  Lorenzo dozed beside her, his legs entangled with hers and his hand on her hip. Her pink bra and panties were on the floor, discarded along with his jeans. She ran her fingers through the thick waves of his hair, felt the stubble on his chin against her shoulder, and wondered what kind of magic had allowed this man to turn her into a glutton for sex.

  Cassie didn’t much care.

  Maybe it was one of the secret powers of dragon men. She felt alive, vibrantly alive, for the first time in years. Maybe ever. She also felt as if she had a connection to a man, a romantic connection like nothing she’d had before.

  Like nothing she’d let herself have before.

  That was new and it was surprisingly reassuring.

  She also couldn’t figure out how Lorenzo managed to please her even more each time they made love. There wasn’t anything routine about Lorenzo in bed. Each time was like a new discovery, a deepening of their understanding of each other. No wonder it was so addictive. She smoothed the hair back from his temple, loving the heat and the strength of him against her.

  She wondered whether she would ever get enough of Lorenzo.

  And she didn’t mind one bit if she didn’t. Cassie couldn’t remember feeling such passion for anyone in her life. She didn’t really believe that she was going to fall in love with a dragon shifter—or anyone, for that matter—but even being in lust was very, very good stuff.

  Lorenzo stirred then, tipping his head back to give her a sleepy smile. His hand slid over her skin, his fingers cupping her breast. He watched her as he eased his thumb over the nipple, and she knew he noticed how she caught her breath. “Okay?” he murmured in that deep, rich voice.

  Cassie nodded, liking his concern. “And you?”

  His smile broadened with satisfaction; then he nodded, too. Now that she knew to look, there was something of the dragon in his slow assessment of her, in the way his gaze simmered when his passion was roused. He had an intensity she could easily associate with dragons.

  It was sexy, sexier than she might have expected.

  Which reminded her. “You haven’t told me any more about dragons,” she said.

  He bent and took her nipple in his mouth, driving her crazy with his tongue. When he released her, she was gasping with pleasure. “What do you want to know?”

  “How do you become one?”

  Lorenzo moved, bracing himself on one elbow and smiling down at her. His free hand danced over her skin, sliding toward her navel. He twirled his fingertip in it, tickling her a bit. “You don’t. Dragons are born, not made.”

  “But why?”

  “Dominant gene, runs in the male line, finds expression in the male progeny.” He bent and kissed her ear, his caress making Cassie close her eyes in delight. His fingers meanwhile slipped through the tangle of hair at the apex of her thighs with purpose.

  “Sons,” Cassie gasped. “Baby dragon boys.”

  “No. Manifests at puberty.” Lorenzo ran his tongue under her ear, exhaling slightly against her skin. Cassie shivered, and turned her head to kiss him. His kiss was as potent as ever, leaving her sizzling with desire and dizzy all over again.

  “Tell me something else about dragons,” she managed to say. “Something else you can do.”

  “Our senses are more keen than human senses,” Lorenzo said, his eyes doing that glittering thing as he smiled down at her.

  “You said that already.”

  His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “But that means I can hear your heartbeat across the room. I feel you gasp, even when you’re not beside me. I taste your passion.”

  “That’s why you’re such a good lover,” she whispered.

  “Longevity means that there’s never a reason to rush through anything. Especially not pleasure.” His fingers slipped over her clitoris, teasing and touching once again. Cassie heard herself moan as she parted her thighs, then saw him smile.

  “Not immortality?”

  “No. Forever is not our thing.”

  Cassie closed her eyes and almost lost the thread of the conversation, his fingers were doing such interesting things. “You can’t tell what I’m thinking, can you?”

  “I just pay attention, to all the little signs, and home in on what gives you the most pleasure.” He gave her an intent glance. “You do much the same.”

  Cassie looked at him, liking that they were both observant. “What gives you pleasure?”

  Lorenzo’s smile flashed; then he was atop her, his weight braced above her. “Don’t you know?” he asked. Then his heat and strength were inside her again.

  Cassie clutched his shoulders as he kissed her again, kissed her thoroughly and deeply. He moved more slowly this time, seeming to luxuriate in their lovemaking, his deliberate caresses exciting Cassie in a new and different way. He braced himself above her, watching her as he moved, and his intensity made her pulse flutter.

  “I liked watching you fight,” she admitted.

  He smiled and the warmth of his fingers slid into her hair. “It was my pleasure to defend you.”

  Was that all of the truth, though?

  He leaned down to kiss her again, but Cassie turned her face away. Lorenzo watched her, his gaze searching hers. “Something wrong?” he murmured.

  The fact that they were both
observant meant no secrets.

  Cassie liked that honesty. She wanted his kiss, but she wanted some information, too.

  “Maybe you have someone else to defend,” Cassie said, her words coming out breathless. “I’ll guess that your dad doesn’t kick butt the way he used to.” Lorenzo pulled back to meet her gaze, his own turning wary. “Because if the ability passes from father to son, he must be a dragon shifter, too.”

  Lorenzo moved like lightning away from her to sit on the coffee table and consider her. His expression was imperious as he looked down at her, and Cassie sensed that she’d crossed a line. He seemed to be filled with coiled strength, like a cobra ready to strike.

  She’d spooked him, but wasn’t sure why.

  “What do you know about my father?” he asked softly.

  Cassie refused to be daunted. “Not much.” She sat up, as well, but remained on the couch. There was an increment of distance between their knees, but she could feel the heat of his skin. “He didn’t have time to tell me much.”

  Lorenzo spoke with precision. “You can’t have talked to him. My father is ill, and he hasn’t left his room in decades. . . .”

  Cassie smiled. “He looked pretty frisky to me. I liked him.” She gestured to the painting. “He told me about your mom, although I didn’t believe him when he said you were born in 1585. Were you?”

  Lorenzo looked as if he’d had the rug pulled out from beneath him. “No one could have told you that,” he murmured, horror dawning in his eyes.

  Cassie remembered his love of privacy, but didn’t want to have any lies between them. She arched a brow. “Don’t you mean no one but your dad?”

  She saw him realize the truth.

  She saw his displeasure.

  Did he really think his dad was so ill as that?

  Shouldn’t he be relieved to learn otherwise?

  Lorenzo got up, tugged on his jeans and shirt, then marched out of the room without saying another word. Cassie saw the anger in every line of his body, and hoped he was in a better mood when he came back.

  He was halfway out of the room when an explosion rocked the house. It was close, but seemed to have come from outside the house. Several alarms sounded, but Lorenzo didn’t slow his pace.

  “What was that?” Cassie demanded, in the midst of tugging on her own jeans.

  Lorenzo glanced back, as composed as ever. “I assume you drove a vehicle here.”

  Cassie blinked. “My Jeep. I parked it in the desert. . . .”

  “I will buy you another.” Lorenzo turned to continue, leaving her to work it out.

  As if the loss of her vehicle didn’t matter.

  “What?” Cassie cried in outrage. “That’s my car. . . .”

  Lorenzo pivoted, eyes blazing as he came back into the room. The sight of that blue shimmer dancing around his body made Cassie shut up.

  “Balthasar is a poor sport,” he declared, his manner intense. “He knew that your presence gave me more incentive to win, so once he recovered sufficiently, he retaliated for his loss. We Pyr are fundamentally primitive creatures.” He arched a brow. “And poor losers.”

  With that, Lorenzo pivoted and was gone.

  Just like Cassie’s Jeep.

  Salvatore had deceived him!

  Lorenzo stood in the foyer of his father’s suite, narrowing his eyes against the darkness as he watched his father sleep. Salvatore’s breathing was slow and rhythmic. He was in exactly the same pose and position as the last time Lorenzo had visited.

  But it was a lie.

  His father was messing with him.

  In a way, this was the reminder he needed. This was the inescapable truth. It didn’t matter whether Cassie trusted him. It didn’t matter whether he trusted her. In the end, his own nature would ensure that any partnership between them would come to grief.

  That had happened to his parents.

  And the injustice of it made Lorenzo more angry than he had been in centuries. What was the point of this genetic curse his father had passed to him? What was its merit, if the firestorm taunted him with a promise of a partner, then cheated him of any future with her?

  He knew he could have no happiness with a woman, and no permanent partnership with anyone human. He’d learned that Pyr matches were ill fated, even if well intentioned. And no son needed a devil for a father. He’d grown up with that burden himself and wouldn’t put it on any child.

  What was the point of the firestorm, if it changed his perspective but his own nature ensured that he couldn’t accept the firestorm’s promise?

  Lorenzo couldn’t remember ever being so furious. He couldn’t remember ever hating the fact that he was Pyr as much as he did in this moment.

  Yet his father still feigned sleep.

  Had he provoked all of this by giving away the darkfire crystal? Had his father loosed the darkfire in the first place? Was that what was changing everything?

  “I know you’re awake,” Lorenzo said, using the Venetian dialect he had learned as a boy.

  His father started slightly, a sign that he’d been surprised by Lorenzo’s assertion, but made no other sign that his slumber had been disturbed.

  “I know you let her in.” Lorenzo strode into the suite, not bothering with the lights. “I know you got rid of the darkfire crystal.” He walked around his father as he continued to speak. “I know you are meddling again.” He paused in front on his father’s face, then crouched down before the enormous dragon nostrils. He switched to old-speak, just for the sake of surprise. “You should know that it won’t make any difference.”

  His father snorted, releasing a single puff of smoke.

  “You won’t change my mind,” Lorenzo added. “Because you can’t change what I am.”

  His father smiled slowly, the way a crocodile might smile, the move revealing several sharp teeth. He smiled knowingly.

  Lorenzo simmered.

  Usually, Salvatore’s smug confidence in his own perspective didn’t bother Lorenzo. Usually, he could shrug it off, let the old dragon believe what he wanted to believe, and move away. But on this day, in this moment, he was too riled up to let it go. There was too much at risk, including his father’s safety.

  It was time they got things straight.

  It was time he made himself clear.

  Lorenzo roared and let the dragon take ascendance, shifting shape in a brilliant shimmer of blue light. He reared back and bared his teeth, then dropped to his belly and lay utterly still. His nostrils were only inches from his father’s.

  His father’s eyes had opened and Lorenzo glared at him.

  “You won’t change me. You won’t compel me to believe that I can partner with a woman any more successfully than you did.”

  “Yet you just defended her.”

  “From an assault that would never have occurred without your interference! I will not subscribe to your romantic nonsense.”

  Salvatore tut-tutted. “The firestorm drew Balthasar. Not me.”

  “The firestorm is sated.”

  Salvatore shrugged. “It has yet to be extinguished.” He eyed Lorenzo and switched to old-speak. “Your desire for her still burns hot. It is a sign.”

  His assertion echoed in Lorenzo’s thoughts, showing a disconcerting ability to merge with them and tempt Lorenzo with possibilities. “It is mere circumstance,” Lorenzo corrected with anger. “It is not destiny and it is not kismet and it is not love. Do not pile all your nonsense on my back. There is no future in it.”

  Salvatore smiled.

  Lorenzo could have decked him. “What did you tell Cassie?”

  “What she needed to know.” Salvatore’s smile broadened.

  The sight sent Lorenzo straight to the moon. “How dare you interfere?” His father didn’t reply, but didn’t aver
t his gaze either. He was still convinced he knew better than his son. “Don’t you understand how much is at risk?”

  Two days until his major spectacle. Two days until he ensured his own security and seclusion for the future. Two days to change the arrangements for his father’s survival.

  Two days to figure out how to ensure Cassie’s safety and silence.

  And all this time, his father had been deceiving him, undermining his efforts.

  “Where is the darkfire crystal?” Lorenzo demanded. “What did you do with it? Tell me that, at least.”

  “I ensured its safety.” His father’s tone was untroubled. “I put it where it belonged.”

  And risked someone demanding the flashfire song as the price of Lorenzo’s failure. His father could have ruined everything!

  “How dare you?” Lorenzo roared. Now Salvatore added insult to injury, scheming against the son determined to protect him. Lorenzo had to hold back his urge to simply incinerate the entire suite.

  And its contents.

  He’d paid for it. It was his to destroy.

  But before he could vent his anger, Salvatore shifted shape. He became an elderly man, one who stood undaunted before the ferocious dragon that was Lorenzo.

  “I dare,” Salvatore said softly, “because I understand exactly what is at risk.”

  His father reached out one hand and laid it on Lorenzo’s scaled chest, right over the thunder of his son’s heartbeat.

  “This is at risk, no more and no less than the most precious treasure in your hoard.” Salvatore spoke in the Venetian dialect, the one that flowed more smoothly from Lorenzo’s tongue than his own. His gaze was unswerving as he switched to old-speak. “I promised your mother that I would ensure your happiness. I keep my promises.”

  There was no other claim that could have made Lorenzo more angry. His father had condemned his mother, as surely as if he had struck the first match himself.

  “The way you ensured hers?” Lorenzo roared. “She died because of you! Don’t think I’ve forgotten. I was there.” He shifted to human form himself, seizing his father’s hand and casting it away from him. He leaned closer to snarl. “Just as you were not.”