by Tami Lund
HUNGRY LIKE A DRAGON
Taming the Dragon Book 2
by Tami Lund
Another book in the Bad Alpha Dads series
Bestselling and Award Winning Paranormal Romance authors are bringing you the baddest of the bad ALPHA dads. Keyword: bad. So sexy, you’ll want to teach them to be good. These shifter dads need all the help they can get, and we want to give it to them.
Check out our website www.BadAlphaDads.com for the release schedule and more about our fabulous authors.
Cover Design: CT Cover Creations
Editor: Julie Sturgeon
Copyright: 2019 by Tami Lund
License Notes
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All entities, locations, businesses, etc. in this book are strictly figments of the author’s overactive imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Questions, comments, or desires to seek permission to use any part of this book for your own purposes should be directed to [email protected].
HUNGRY LIKE A DRAGON
One steamy afternoon with the smokin’ personal chef to the leader of their dragon colony left Petra in seriously hot water. Now she’s two thousand miles away from home, with a newborn baby, and she hasn’t told the father he’s, well, a dad.
When Noah finds out Petra’s in New Orleans with his infant daughter, he drops everything and heads straight there to see for himself. Starting a family wasn’t in his life plan, but hey, he doesn’t have much of a choice, now, does he?
Except Petra isn’t interested, thanks to her family history. Noah can relate, but they still need to do what’s best for their daughter.
Right after they save her from kidnappers, that is.
Have you read the first book in the Taming the Dragon series?
DRAGON HIS HEELS
Gabriel Wilde is a reluctant dragon leader and now, a reluctant dad. Since he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, he enlists the aid of his trustworthy (and admittedly hot) PR manager, Talia Tatsuya. Which is all fine and dandy until his dragon decides she’s their fated mate.
Damn it, Gabe doesn’t want one of those, either.
Chapter 1
Petra had screwed up. Again.
“If you’d rather—”
She flapped her hand, cutting off her reeve, Gabriel Wilde, before he could finish his thought. “I’d rather go to New Orleans,” she said. “You said you wanted me to find your mother, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
He didn’t need to say anything for her to understand his hesitation. He thinks I’m not good enough to get the job done.
She’d been passed over for reeve despite her training and relationship to the previous one, then she’d managed to get Talia’s sister, Jasmine, beaten to within an inch of her life. And don’t forget nearly killing her best friend. Hell, about the only thing she’d done right recently was not continuing her family’s pattern of getting stuck in miserable relationships.
Gabe should doubt her abilities.
“Actually, now that we’re talking about it, maybe I’m not the best person for the job,” she said while picking at the polish on her thumbnail.
Gabe rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers while he studied her. He was probably about to agree with her but giving it a second, so he didn’t appear too eager.
“I disagree. I think this task is exactly what you need.”
Petra snapped her head up to stare at him. “Why do you—?”
“You need a chance to redeem yourself. In your own mind,” he added, lifting a finger when she opened her mouth to protest.
She slowly closed her mouth again because…he was right.
“So, here’s the situation. We don’t know much at all, unfortunately.”
“That’s helpful,” Petra muttered.
Gabe’s only response to her snide comment was to lift his eyebrows. “Based on information we gleaned from my father when he showed up unexpectedly two months ago, I believe my mother is living in New Orleans. I want you to track her down and convince her to remove the curse on our colony.”
The curse. Thirty years ago someone—apparently Gabe’s estranged mother—cursed their colony so that no one could ever find their fated mate. And those who already had been fated mates lost the passion, the magic that came along with knowing you’d coupled with the dragon you were destined to be with for the rest of your life.
Petra hadn’t been born until after the curse had been enacted, so she’d grown up not truly understanding the concept of fated mates.
“Does anyone really even care about this stupid curse anyway?” She still wasn’t convinced she was going to be successful at this task he’d assigned her to.
“A whole hell of a lot of dragons in this colony care,” Gabe’s replied. “I’d wager the vast majority do, actually. Even many of those who are too young to know what it was like before we were cursed.”
“You don’t care.” Of course, he was immune to the curse. The only dragon in their entire colony.
“I care quite a bit, actually. Think about it, Petra. I’m immune, so I know my mate is who I’m supposed to be with; I love her more deeply than I ever imagined possible. But she isn’t immune. She loves me, but to her, it’s just love. It’s not fated love. How would you feel, knowing that about your partner?”
Shit. Way to hit below the belt. She liked the idea of love. She sure as hell wanted something better than what her parents had. Or, to be honest, what pretty much anyone in her immediate family had.
“However, my personal issues aside, I care because I want my colony to be happy,” Gabe continued. “Breaking this curse will do that for them.”
“Let me see if I have this straight. I’m supposed to go to New Orleans to search for a woman I don’t know and have no idea what she looks like—”
“Since I don’t strongly resemble my father, I’d say she looks like me.”
Petra shook her head. “And once I find this mystery woman—who, by the way, has been missing for thirty years—”
“Not necessarily missing. No one thought to go after her until now.”
“So I’m going to show up, remind her about a curse she enacted thirty years ago, and talk her into removing it?” That didn’t sound too terribly difficult. Although Petra had screwed up easier tasks in her life.
“Pretty much.”
“Why don’t you go down there? She’s your mother.”
Oops. Petra leaned back in her chair, spurred by the intense scowl on his face. That may have been a step across the line, talking to her reeve like that.
He placed both hands on the smooth wood and narrowed his eyes without taking his gaze off her. “First of all, I’ve never even met the woman, who gave birth to me and then handed me off to my father and disappeared from my life. And second, I am the reeve of this colony, and therefore, I’m needed here, to take care of my brethren. Not that I need to justify myself to you in any way, shape, or form. If I tell you to go, you go. Do you understand me?”
“I’m probably going to fail,” she grumbled, her shoulders slumping.
His anger dissipated as quickly as it came, and he leaned back in his chair, blowing out a breath before suggesting, “If you’d stop with the negative thoughts, I suspect you might surprise yourself.”
She stared out the window of his home office. The lake
was empty; the trees beyond had begun the transition from green to gold and red and orange. The children were all in the schoolhouse on the other side of the water, learning how to be dragons.
When she was seven years old, Petra had stood up in the middle of that very same building and announced that she would be reeve someday. Instead, Gabe stole that job from her—okay, okay, the Elders had given it to him—and her jealousy had been the reason she’d accidentally damn near killed Talia and Jasmine.
She definitely needed that chance to prove she wasn’t the terrible fuck up most in the colony probably thought she was.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
Gabe walked around his desk and patted her on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.” Grabbing her hand, he pressed a flat bit of plastic into her palm. She stared down at an American Express card. “Use this for your expenses,” he said.
Well, there was that. Definitely a shopping trip in her future. With a sigh, she said, “When am I supposed to leave?”
“The sooner the better. It’s been thirty years, Petra. The colony wants answers.”
She left his office, veering left toward the kitchen so she could head out the back. A brisk walk around the lake sounded like a damn good idea at the moment. She’d rather shift and go for a calming fly, but that was generally frowned upon during the middle of a sunny day. Humans tended to question things like flying objects that looked like dragons.
Noah Ladon, Gabe’s personal chef, stood at the counter, chopping an assortment of vegetables. Red, yellow, and orange peppers, onions, broccoli, sugar snap peas. Must be making a stir fry. He glanced up, nodded, and returned his focus to his task. She was reaching for the doorknob when he said, “Hungry?”
“Yes, actually, but it looks like it will still be a little while.”
“Not too long,” he said without turning to look at her.
She dropped her hand. She wasn’t in the mood to make small talk, but she had skipped breakfast and it was nearly noon. Plus, Noah didn’t talk much, so maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with a chatty companion, and she’d get fed in the process. Win, win.
She headed over to take a seat on one of the stools parked under the counter. “Drinks are in the fridge. Help yourself,” he said.
She grabbed a bottle of water. “Want anything?”
“I’m good.”
She plopped down and drank her water while watching him work. He wore a black T-shirt that was so tight it might as well have been painted onto his muscular back. The tail of what was probably a dragon tattoo snaked down his left arm, ending at his wrist. His forearms flexed while he chopped. Petra had never considering the act of food prep to be attractive before, but damn, he made it look…sensual.
She seriously needed to get laid if she was looking at Noah in this way. Which probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, since she was heading down to the Rojo colony for who knew how long. She’d heard nothing but bad things about those dragons; she doubted she’d find one she was willing to spend time with, even if it was only for mutual physical pleasure.
Noah looked like he could provide some serious pleasure.
They’d grown up together, more or less. Petra’s uncle had been reeve her entire life, until he died and Gabe took over; and Noah’s grandfather had been Uncle Blake’s personal chef until his passing, at which point Noah had stepped up and taken over the task. Thanks to her desire to become reeve one day—and to avoid her constantly arguing parents—Petra had spent a great deal of time at the colony leader’s mansion.
So she knew as much as anybody did about Noah: he was quiet and he kept to himself. He spoke only as much as he needed to and, as far as Petra had been able to decipher, had no close friends.
Oh, and he was a damn fine chef. Fine one to look at, too.
The water was doing nothing to cool her—she didn’t realize she was overheated until now—so she slid off her stool and headed to the fridge in search of…something more refreshing.
Ah. She pulled a bottle of rosé out of the shelf in the door. Now, where might the wineglasses be kept? Noah glanced at the bottle, raising his eyebrows before nodding at the cupboard to his left.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping next to him to retrieve a glass. “Gabe just informed me he’s sending me on a mission down to New Orleans. That sounds like justification for day drinking, don’t you think?”
“Don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Noah replied while he heated oil in a pan.
She poured a drink and then stood there, resting her hip against the counter while she continued to watch him work. It was even more exhilarating up close. She could really see the definition in his arms as he moved, as he reached for the dial to turn up the heat under the frying pan.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “You’re not curious about why I have to go to New Orleans?”
He gave her a swift look and then dumped chopped garlic and cut up chicken pieces into the sizzling oil. “If you want to tell me.”
“How come you don’t ask? A normal person would be curious about a statement like that, would want to know the story behind it.” Why the hell was she goading the guy? Everyone knew Noah didn’t talk or ask questions.
“Sometimes it’s better not to know the answers.”
“What the fuck kind of cryptic bullshit statement is that?”
He laughed. It was more of a surprised bark, like he was as shocked by his response as he was to her question. Shaking his head, he murmured, “You don’t hold back any punches, do you, Petra?”
She shrugged. “No point. When the Elders decided to make Gabe reeve, I learned how pointless it was to keep my damn mouth shut.”
“There was a whole lot of information in that remark.”
Her wineglass was empty, so she moved to the fridge for a refill. Which she probably shouldn’t pour because she was already feeling loopy. But she wasn’t a lightweight, so it was likely because she hadn’t eaten yet today. Noah’s delicious smelling stir fry would take care of the buzz.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“Impatient much?”
She snorted. “I get that a lot.”
He raised his eyebrows again.
“Well, not a lot. Actually, not often at all, unfortunately.”
“I’m not quite following your train of thought.”
She watched the wine swirling in her glass. “I’m talking about sex,” she blurted.
“You’re impatient during sex?”
Well, at least he wasn’t laughing at her. “Sometimes. But, you know, sometimes I just want to reach the finish line. Get it over with.”
“It sounds like sometimes you aren’t having sex with the right guy.”
Is he offering to be the right guy? her dragon whispered.
Noah shook his head. “I’m definitely not the right guy.”
“Oh shit, did I say that out loud?”
He chuckled and scooped brown rice into a bowl then added steaming vegetables and chicken before sliding it across the counter toward her. “Lunch is served.”
“Are you going to eat with me?” At least she’d managed to use “with” in that sentence.
“You eat. I need to clean up the kitchen before Gabe and Talia come down.”
Since she didn’t want to see Gabe again and she didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness that had fallen over her and Talia’s friendship, she hurriedly ate so she could get the hell out of there before they arrived.
“Damn, you were hungry, huh?”
Petra glanced down at the empty bowl. “Guess so. Well, it’s been a little bit fun and a lot weird talking to you, Noah, but I better get going.”
He draped the towel he’d been using to dry dishes over the knob on a nearby drawer and said, “Where to? I’m done until dinner.”
She stared at him. “Are you suggesting we, um, go on a date?”
He shook his head and motioned at the screen door. “I’m suggesting I’ll walk you to your destination.
Whether that’s your car or your house or whatever.”
“I was actually going to take a stroll around the lake.”
“Okay, well, do you want company?”
Not really. “Sure.”
He held open the door, and they were silent as they headed across the yard toward the lake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was peaceful. Pleasant.
“Why are you so quiet all the time?” she asked. Apparently she didn’t like peaceful and pleasant.
He shrugged with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Not much to say.”
“Everybody has something to say.”
“Not much anyone else cares to hear then.”
“Try me.”
They’d reached the lake and began walking the perimeter, heading toward the woods on the other side. The schoolhouse was to their right. The kids were outside, a handful running around, playing what looked like a game of tag, while the rest climbed monkey bars and soared high on the swings or tossed basketballs at hoops that had been set up on the west side of the stone building.
It’s been far too long since I’ve been carefree and happy.
She glanced sideways at Noah. Petra didn’t have a lot of experience with dating, for a couple of reasons, but mostly because she’d avoided it in favor of focusing on learning everything she could about the reeve’s responsibilities. She’d always assumed she’d get the position when Uncle Blake died, and then, once she was settled in the role, she’d start looking for a mate.
Yeah, that’s clearly not going to happen now.
“It’s to avoid getting hurt,” Noah said.
“Huh? I mean, sorry, what?”
“The reason I don’t talk much.”
“Oh,” Petra said, nodding. “Of course it is. Love sucks. There are tons of songs about it, books dedicated to it, poetry dripping with it.”
