“I haven’t seen her all day,” he said, which was true but beside the point. He pulled out his cell. “She texted me this morning.” He showed the text to Roger.
Good morning, lover. See you at supper!
“She doesn’t say anything about having the day off,” Anton said.
Roger ground his teeth. “She’s here making a hissing of herself, isn’t she?”
“Take a look,” Anton invited.
He followed Roger the short distance to his bedroom. The double bed was made up military tight, the way beds were supposed to be made. But he was glad he had opened the window to air the room out.
Roger opened the closet door. Anton’s skimpy wardrobe hung neatly. His spare shoes were underneath. He figured that Roger didn’t want to know that his daughter said Anton kept his stuff ready for regimental inspection. Anyway his mate wasn’t hiding in there.
“And another thing,” Roger glared hard at Anton. “That fricking Davenport Gallery has never heard of a Carlyle Merryman. Or Carlyle Roger either.”
“We’ll find him, sir,” Anton said calmly. He almost felt sorry for the mer-king.
Roger pivoted on his heel, strode across the hall, and opened the door to the workshop. Shift and dang. Anton hadn’t had time to put the conch away. The sun chose that moment to come out from behind the cloak of heavy gray cloud that had obscured it all day. The beam struck the vise where he had left the shell when Roger had thumped on his door.
It wasn’t finished yet, not by a long way. Anton had removed all the horny outer layer from the pipe. Despite the fact that it was covered in dust from the work he had been doing this morning, the sunlight passed straight through the now translucent pipe. The exposed nacre glowed peach and cream and violet. Roger’s mouth opened and closed. He swore.
Not since he left the service had Anton heard anyone use such inventive profanity without repeating himself once. He listened respectfully, storing up the king’s words. You never knew when you might need some extra vocabulary yourself.
“What the freaking heck do you think you are doing? Do you think I could be fooled by a fake?” Roger sputtered to a close, having run out of fresh invective if not ire.
“It isn’t the mer-horn,” Anton assured him. “Or pretending to be. Just a sort of replica. Let me. You want to keep the tension uniform in case it cracks.” He swiftly unscrewed the cushioned vise, working from both sides at once to release it evenly. He lowered it into Roger’s outstretched hands.
“Where did you get this?”
“Monterey Bay.” He handed Roger the damp cloth he used to check that he was only removing the dull periostracum and none of the nacre. He and Carlyle had decided that retaining the maximum thickness of mother-of-pearl was crucial for strength. “Wipe the mouthpiece, sir, that shell dust is nasty stuff.”
Roger buffed the pipe to a gloss. “Jesus,” he breathed. “And just why are you making a mer-horn?”
Anton shrugged. “Serena asked me to. She seemed to think you’d be pleased. Unfortunately, it isn’t going to be ready for Christmas.”
But he was speaking through the bugling of the horn. King Roger had set the mouthpiece to his lips and was blowing for all he was worth. Anton covered his ears, regretting that he had taken off his ear protection.
The sound burst forth like a combination of oboe, trumpet, and tuba. But louder, much louder. A triumphant, clarion blast that thrilled even his stolid bear shifter blood.
Footsteps rang on the floorboards. A tall man entered the workshop. “You called, father?” Carlyle asked.
“Merry Christmas,” shouted Serena over the thunderous music.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Christmas night
Serena~
“I’m glad that’s over.” She turned into Anton’s waiting arms. “I love Christmas, and I love Carlyle. And his Althea is a wonderful woman. My nephews are darlings. And heaven knows this reunion was long overdue. But I am wrung out.”
It had been a crazy Christmas. All day, the Merrymans had been tottered on the verge of nervous collapse. Althea had been the only calm spot in a maelstrom of sentiment. Little Carl and Roger had caught the adults’ near-hysteria. Althea had spent a rough day trying to keep them from a surfeit of sweets and emotion.
Anton’s arms pulled her into the safety of his chest. He kissed her hair without putting down the bags he was carrying. “Next year will be better, love. We’ll go to my parents. No drama. No quicksand. Just feasting and good times.”
“Hmm. I thought it went pretty well, considering,” she argued. “I mean, Dad was almost genial. Mom was incandescent. He certainly took to being a grandpa!”
“It’s almost a law of nature,” Anton agreed. “The sternest fathers make the most indulgent grandfathers.”
“He’s had a complete turn-around. Weren’t you astonished when he gave us girls tridents!”
Anton chuckled. “I thought your mom was going to rupture something when she opened hers. Maybe she would have preferred bath salts?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe I should keep mine handy in case I am attacked by a bear.”
He shook with laughter. “Bound to happen.” His arms tightened. “But now that your dad wants to put you and your sisters on the roster for the mer-patrol, the thought of you swimming into danger is more than a bit hard to contemplate.”
She only smiled. She would not be swimming with the mer-patrol for a while. “You forget that he drank to our engagement.”
Dad had produced champagne and toasted first Carlyle’s return, his bride and kids, and then Serena’s upcoming marriage to Anton.
“I think that’s as close as he is going to come to reversing his decision,” her groom agreed. “But I’ll take what we can get.”
“I can’t believe we pulled it off,” she marvelled. “He as good as gave his consent. Do you think Dad really believes he summoned Carlyle by blowing the conch? I mean, they started driving from California the day before. And I met the ferry they came on.”
“Part of him does. Your dad was beside himself with fury, and when he tried out the conch, that magnificent sound took us both by surprise. It was enough to wake the dead, let alone summon the crown prince from California.”
“When that blast of music hit me, I just about leapt out of my skin,” she concurred. “Carlyle too.”
“Good thing he had left Althea and the boys at the inn.”
“He didn’t want to press his luck staying with Mom and Dad.”
“Well, I believe your father agreed to our marriage because some part of him thinks the music was made by bear magic, so he ought to keep me in the family to finish decorating the conch-horn.” Anton’s voice was smug.
“We did get Carlyle back!” Serena pointed out. “And it didn’t hurt that big brother said so.”
“You know, I’m supposed to be the hotshot investigator here,” Anton said. “And I do believe your Dad sent me on a solo quest. I guess the fact that I needed your help to find Carlyle is proof we’re meant to be.”
“In all the best stories, the hero needs the princess’ aid to complete his task,” she said.
And the fact that Anton had accepted her help, and shared the credit was proof he wasn’t as domineering as dad. Dominant, take-charge, and alpha to the core. But not her father. And heaven knew she was strong enough to push back. She relaxed into his arms.
He gave her a last squeeze and let her go. “Let me put this stuff down. Are you ready for your Christmas present?”
Serena shook her head. “I thought these earrings were my Christmas present.”
Anton had given her a pair of black pearl studs that echoed the rainbow in her ring and her hair. If he kept spending money like there was no tomorrow, she would have to take control of the family finances.
He kissed her again. “I have another gift that’s not for sharing.”
“Me too.”
“You go first,” he said.
“I need my purse.” She rummaged in i
ts depths and found the baggie with her gift.
Anton’s eyes widened a little and he grinned. “Boy howdy. That is some nice present. I take it that thin blue line means we’re going to have a boy?” Although he had made a wisecrack, his eyes were now glistening.
“Smart aleck.” She took the pregnancy test stick away from him.
“Hey, I thought that was mine?” He wrapped her back up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “Wowie, this is the best Christmas ever. We’re going to be parents!”
Her heart raced. “I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad until after Carlyle and Althea go back to California with their kids.”
“Fine by me. Let them have their moment in the sun. As soon as your dad discovers you’re carrying, he’s going to get out his trident and have bear kebabs for breakfast.”
She began to giggle. “D-did you see Dad’s face when Carlyle introduced his boys? I thought Mom was going to crown Dad with her heaviest cast iron pan.”
“I thought it was even funnier when your dad realized that Carlyle had found himself an honest-to-goodness mermaid. He just about burst a gasket. Your brother has redeemed himself thoroughly. A Master of Science in Marine Biology, a great job, a secondary career as an artist, a wife and two mer babies.”
“You forgot to mention that Althea is pregnant again,” Serena said. “That’s why I want to keep this baby a secret for a bit longer. I don’t want to steal Carlyle and Althea’s glory. Let them bask in Mom and Dad’s approval for a while longer.”
“Whereas I just want to keep your pregnancy a secret until we’re actually married,” Anton said earnestly. “I do not want to pull the mer-king’s tail ever again.”
“I always thought a beach wedding would be nice,” she said.
She could see it now. The low sun bathing Sunset Cove in apricot light. She and Anton barefoot on the pink sand. The sound of the surf and the wind in the trees providing the sacred music. Maybe Dad blowing the horn to summon the guests.
“Appropriate. But not unless you want folks to freeze. We’re tying the knot just as soon as we can. I thought the end of January.”
Her bubble popped. “So soon?”
“If you’re carrying multiples, my darling, you’ll be showing if we wait any longer.”
“Valentine’s Day?” she bargained.
“Uh uh. That way we lose a special day for the rest of our lives. How about the end of February? That way we can warm up for our anniversary with Valentine’s Day.”
Who said bears weren’t romantic? “Done.” She closed the deal.
“I’ve been played,” he yelped.
“Yup. So, where’s my present?”
“You’ll have to undress me to find it.”
“Oh. I think I’ve already unwrapped that one,” she teased. “I was hoping for something a little bigger.” She cupped his tackle with one hand. He was already fully aroused.
He turned scarlet. “Just for that, I think you should be cut off.”
“As if.” Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and peeled it away from his chest. The sight of all that curling hair made heat pool in her belly.
“Lookit what I found,” she crowed. “My very own carriage rug.” She buried her fingers in his chest hair and struck something hard. The cameo he had made from the oyster shell was hung on the stainless-steel chain with his dog tags. “Oh, you finished it. When did you have time?”
“Lunch times.”
“I guess I thought you were making it for me,” she said.
He placed it around her neck. “You can wear it if you want.”
She held it up to the light. “No way. It’s way too risqué.”
Anton had caught her expression. Her hair rippled like a wave. Her tail almost seemed to move. But no one would look at eyes or hair or tail when her breasts bobbed like that. How had he managed that?
“Definitely not for wearing in public,” he agreed.
She looked closer at the carved shell. “My breasts aren’t that big!”
“Sure they are. And about to get bigger too. Serena Merryman, I love you. I love your hair, and your breasts. Will you marry me on the last Saturday in February?”
“I will.”
“Time to celebrate!” He hoisted her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom.
“What if I’m too tired?” she purred from the bed.
Anton straddled her with his body. “Poor mama-to-be. I guess I’ll have to do all the work. You just lie back and think of Mystic Bay while I check out your honey pot.” He slid down with one fluid movement, holding her thighs together so he could lick the seam he had created.
His big hands kneaded her rump, sending pulses through her whole body. Her folds tingled. Her breathing became ragged. His tongue stroked upward, found her clit and softly pressed it. He gave her a kiss as light as a puff of air, squeezing her bottom in time with the pulses in her sex. Or maybe he was creating the rhythm. It was hard to tell.
“Relax,” he ordered. “Just enjoy. Don’t try to work it out.”
Good advice. She left her fingers in Anton’s hair and let her head fall back and the flickering lights at the edges of her vision explode. His kisses on her muff merged with his humming. She was enveloped in his love. Or his aura. Or maybe they were the same thing.
He spread her thighs gently and went to town on her folds with the relaxed flat of his tongue. His murmurs of pleasure sent additional waves of pleasure through her whole body.
He raised his head to kiss her mouth deeply. His probing tongue tasted of her juices. After a last kiss on her chin, and a pit stop to suckle her nipples, he went back to her pussy.
The touch of his probing tongue at the entrance sent her careening over the edge. As if her orgasm was a green light, he surged into her rippling vag. He set a slow pace, keeping time with the blissful contractions and releases of her climax. Together they moved as one body, one soul, to the timeless music of their love.
When he came, she did not know where his pleasure began or hers ended. She was certain she felt his release as well as her own. Every time they made love, their connection just got deep and richer and stronger. “I love you,” they cried in unison.
Afterward they lay together kissing and cuddling. Serena pulled Anton’s chest hair lightly. The shell was back around his neck.
“I’ll be snatched bald, before our wedding if you don’t quit that.”
She kissed where she had tugged better. A thought ruffled her happiness. “Think you really infused bear magic into the horn?”
“Who knows? Maybe there’s some bear magic? Or maybe it’s Robin’s spell? Or mer-magic? Heaven knows there is enough magic in Mystic Bay for twenty conches.” He rolled her beneath him, and they forgot everything except celebrating Christmas and their love.
<<<<>>>>
Coming Soon!
Available August 3, 2018
ADORED BY A DRAGON
by Isadora Montrose
MYSTIC BAY SERIES BOOK 4
NOW IN PRE-ORDERS
Can Mystic Bay save a shipwrecked marriage? Can passion hold these 2 dragons together? What if their love isn’t enough?
When Admiral Daniel Lindorm discovers that his wife has left him, this Dragon Lord gives chase. But fairy-turned-dragoness Angie has taken refuge far from their home in Stockholm. She’s making a new life for herself and her unborn baby in magical Mystic Bay.
Passion burns hot between alpha male Daniel and BBW Angie. And there is plenty of sensual magic to go around. Can the transcendental bond between these two fated mates heal the mistakes of the past? Will Robin and Sully be able to prove once again that a match made in West Haven is a match made in Heaven?
Read the first 2 chapters now.
CHAPTER ONE
Angie~
She elbowed the swinging door aside and carried the stack of canvases onto the shop floor. While she had been fetching the special order from the dim stock room, the midsummer sun had come out in all its glory. She smelled him
first. Strong arms lifted the canvases from her arms.
“You shouldn’t be carrying those in your condition.” His well-remembered voice was as arrogant as ever. It still made her heart quiver.
Angie glared at her husband. “They weigh almost nothing.” Which wasn’t exactly the truth. But after all she was a dragoness, and stronger than most mortal women. Six artists’ canvases weren’t a strain. Even these oversized ones.
The real question was how Daniel had discovered she was pregnant.
The canvases appeared small in Daniel’s muscled hands. Celeste Greene who had ordered them was timid at the best of times. The presence of a towering, furious dragon was frightening the gazelle shifter half to death.
Daniel’s blond good-looks and designer clothing did not conceal that he was a powerful predator. If you were sensitive to auras, his was plainly exuding a threat.
“Make yourself useful,” Angie snapped. “Celeste wants those canvases stashed in the backseat of her SUV.” She turned to Celeste and gave her a reassuring smile and pulsed a calming spell at her chaotic aura. “Do you need to take the car seat out?” Celeste had a four-year-old.
“N-n-no,” poor Celeste stammered. Instinctively she folded her arms against herself, and stood still. Making herself hard to spot. As if.
“Did you lock the car?” Angie asked even more gently.
Celeste nodded and held out her keys as if she expected to be bitten. Daniel suddenly realized he was the source of the gazelle’s twitchy behavior. Angie felt another pulse of calming magic as he too damped down Celeste’s anxiety. About time. The gazelle stopped shaking, but the whites of her eyes still showed.
“Where is your vehicle?” Daniel asked in his precise way.
Celeste’s mouth opened and closed.
“It’s the forest green SUV parked right by the door,” Angie said. “While Daniel is putting them in your car, Celeste, why don’t you pay the balance due?”
Celeste found her wallet and credit card. Angie quickly rang up the sale. Celeste was still wide-eyed as she slipped out the door Daniel was holding open for her. She snatched her keys from his hand before she scurried off down the sidewalk.
Beloved by the Bear: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 3) Page 17
