Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  “I assure you the ways are too numerous to count, but as for my promise for your van, show up and see that my word is true.”

  Did he just say what she thought he did? Hellfire on a rocket, that was hot! Not that she could let on that his rakish behavior was turning her on. Clearing her throat and conjuring up authority reserved for her more trying clients, Bronwyn’s reply came hard and fast.

  “Mr. Kelnar, maybe you’re used to getting what you want when you want it, but I’m not going to fall in line with those expectations. As the best concierge around, I get things done professionally. As my clients would tell you if you’d come through those channels, you’d also know that I don’t mess around, I get down when it comes to my business. That means there’s mutual respect, like honoring the time that I appropriate for sleeping.” Okay, maybe the snappiness was a bit much.

  “Bronwyn,” His pause impregnated the digital space between as he spoke her name the way he did. The resonance of his voice’s quality played hide and seek with her curiosity. She wanted to curse for wanting to hear what came after. He didn’t disappoint. “I respect you more than you know. That respect is what has generated this call from me and not one of my business staff. As for messing around and getting down, I’d love to do that with you anytime—any place. I desire the pleasure of meeting with you at ten, yes, I think that should be enough time for you to get your rest, so deeply that I’m prepared to send a car to transport you here. I will honor my word regarding your van. If you agree to meet with me, I’ll also triple your fee for your services for a full day—even if it doesn’t translate into mutual benefit.” The next pause was masterfully employed. Nothing came up and out as she worked through his words, digesting their density. “Good, so I’ll see you at ten this morning. I’ll send a driver over at fifteen past nine to pick you up. Please be downstairs and ready to go when he arrives. I wouldn’t want to keep you longer than necessary in retaliation for your disregard of my time either.”

  The nerve of this guy!

  “Yes, nine-fifteen, downstairs,” she heard her lying lips saying over her objections.

  The soft click of disconnection on the other end signaled her cross over into another realm. She knew it without a shadow of a doubt. With the conclusion of this call, Bronwyn had moved from dealing with the typical man-child to fencing with a powerful man.

  Sleep came but at an agonizing price. Variations of that call looped and played through her dreams, each time Bronwyn coming up with the short end of the negotiations. She had to find a way to win and best this mystery man. Finally, fitful sleep came only to leave early.

  Groggy, tired, and even more curious, Bronwyn stumbled out of bed a little after six in the morning. After the most miserable shower she’d taken in a while to loosen sore, tight muscles, she was on her phone doing Google searches to find out more about this MacMillan Kelnar.

  After twenty minutes, her guess about him was right. He was filthy rich and powerful, working behind the scenes to help some of the hottest companies grow and expand. Funny thing was she couldn’t find anything about him as a person, just his business dealings. Oh, and based on how long he’d been in the game, the dude wasn’t a kid, more like in his late thirties, if her guess was correct. That couldn’t be good. He wasn’t old by any means, but he wasn’t as young as her usual clients either.

  One thing she’d learned was that the older the guys got, the more she became an object they thought they could use as a chess piece. No thank you. She’d go to the meeting, get her ride fixed, charge him out of the wazoo and shake the dust on her way out of there.

  The dream came as it always did, without warning. There she was in the clouds high about the cares of this world, riding her Dragon. Cold air wicked away the weight of the world as her Dragon sliced through the air at supersonic speed. Strapped to him in a custom carrier, she held on as he did loops, spirals, and other heart-pumping aerial acrobats. Laying her head on the rough hide of the base of his neck, she patted and sighed as she seemed to connect with him beyond vocal communication. Strength transferred from the beast to her, giving her the energy she needed to go back to the drudgery of her real world.

  This was her favorite dream, one she’d been having variations of since she was a small child. Over the years she’d come to love the Dragon. He always seemed to come when she’d needed him the most. Now was one of those times. Yes, she had to admit as an adult, she was in love with her Dragon. He understood her like none other.

  Then it was time. She could fill the edge of wakefulness pull and tug to reclaim her back to the monotony that was Bronwyn's hustling life. Jumping up in disorientation from the nap she’d dozed off into, Bronwyn looked around until she found her phone on the floor where it had fallen from her hands. She’d been out for almost an hour. She still had enough time to get ready for her meeting with this mysterious Mr. Kelnar.

  Cold water splashed to remove the puffiness from her eyes, her business suit—tight as it might be— on, and her client meeting portfolio located, Bronwyn gathered her thoughts to plan her attack of dealing with this man. She determined to have three plans in case he was more cunning than usual.

  Settled with a few game plan maneuvers that put her back into the driver’s seat, Bronwyn moved around some errands she could do later to make time for dealing with Mr. Kelnar today. After him, she’d work on where she was going to live. Her gut rumbled with anticipation of excitement. Shaking off thoughts of Mr. Kelnar and his audacity, she relegated the giddy uplift to her pursuit of a new place to live. Yes, she’d charge this guy enough to have a down payment for a new apartment.

  Things were looking up. The solution to her situation had presented itself, and she’d taken it.

  “Good job, Bronwyn,” she congratulated herself as she left the condo to catch a ride to her next steps in her plan.

  Chapter Five

  MACMILLAN “MAC” KELNAR

  Nine-thirty-seven.

  Time dragged along, taunting and testing him with each agonizing second. She would be here soon, but not soon enough. Yesterday seemed so far away. The moment he’d sensed her presence in the home improvement center parking lot, every part of him snapped to attention sending signals of confirmation that she was nearby.

  The closer time came for her to arrive today, his Dragon pressed harder to the surface. It had been a long time of waiting and patient existence, but finally, she was here. He found the sensation of a smile that played with the corners of his mouth interesting. It had been a long time since his spirits were this high. The notion of a smile, unmediated and appearing without conjure, was another reason for him to delight in his newfound treasure.

  When the car pulled up to the front entrance, instead of allowing his driver to show her inside, he went to greet his destiny. Willing himself to slow down enough for her to get out of the car, Mac recaptured his ability to employ self-control. It was his Dragon. His Dragon had been the driving force behind that call at midnight. Try as he might to contain himself and what he was sure would be counted as a strike against him in her mind, Mac hadn’t been completely able to keep his intense interest in the brown beauty secret.

  If she knew how much of an advantage she had over him, he was certain she could take him to the cleaners, and he’d be the happy fool willing to drive the getaway car. Yeah, she was everything he’d imagined she would be over the years of wondering and waiting for her arrival. Still, having her wasn’t a sure bet. She had a say-so in this as well. He had to get control over his primal beast side, or she’d be scared away before they had a chance to interact. Appeal to his Dragon wisdom won. With determination born of years of self-control and sacrifice, he made himself come back to his logic and senses. Mac walked back to his first-floor office to regroup and get back into his skin.

  Seated behind his desk and spinning one of those stress reducer fidgety things his assistant had given him as a gag gift, Mac sat and waited in silence. Back here, he couldn’t hear what happened in the front of the ho
use. Designed with sound proofing throughout, the home absorbed sounds allowing him to go about his day uninterrupted. It worked too well at the moment. He pushed into his Dragon senses to transverse space and time. It was here he kept up with the action happening out front.

  When her feet touched the flooring of the foyer, his being clicked into a new level of excitement. His fiery nature buzzed and crackled just under the surface. He’d heard tales of how it could be with the first encounter, but nothing could have prepared him for this—and he hadn’t met her in person yet!

  “Mac!” he heard Danny call, as his driver made his way to the back of the house where his office was located.

  Mac willed himself to remain seated behind the desk. New and interesting things were happening within, things he couldn’t quite explain. He needed a moment to reacquaint himself with his usual command of patient control.

  “Yes, I’m in the office,” his reply sounded as normal as he dared, given the fact that his Dragon-chosen mate stood within his home and Lair.

  When the young man entered his office, Mac could tell Danny was just as excited. He hadn’t shared his assessment of Bronwyn Scott yesterday, but the young werewolf had the gift of discernment and had picked up on his reaction to her. This became evident when Danny gave him her card and politely suggested he give her a call. This was Danny’s way. He’d been loyal to Mac since finding his way to Atlanta five years ago. The young man was an alpha without a desire to start a pact or take a mate just yet.

  Needing the loyalty and secrecy that a werewolf excelled at, Mac had hired him as his driver and catch-all companion. Up until meeting Danny, Mac had trusted no one outside of his family with access to his inner sanctum. He even did his own cooking and cleaning, much to the dismay of Danny who thought he should do it. Reminding Danny that his cooking sucked and his cleaning was worse than if a dog tried to do it, Mac had successfully convinced the young man that he was better at those things than anyone else.

  That would be where he started with Bronwyn. He’d appeal to her ability to help him get his “house in order.” Not one to outright lie about anything, Mac determined to woo her with the cunning smoothness requisite of any Dragon worthy to be called one.

  Hopeful exuberance shone brightly as Danny continued to look at him from the doorway.

  “Shall I show her back here? I didn’t know where you wanted to meet her, so I left her standing at the door.” Then, as if rethinking those actions, Danny scratched his head. “Sorry boss, I should have taken her to the living area.”

  The brotherly sense of affirmation kicked in. Mac found that he liked that role in Danny’s life.

  “No, you’re fine. I’ll go and meet her. That way I can give her a tour of the house before settling down to... business.”

  At hearing how Mac said business, Danny winked and turned to leave, whistling a little tune. Before he got out of earshot, Mac reminded him, “Bring the van around to the front before you leave. I’ll present it to her when our meeting has concluded.”

  “Will do. Let me know how she likes it, will you?”

  “Of course. You did a great job getting it equipped and ready as fast as you did. She’s going to love it. I would, and I don’t have a need for a work van.”

  “Thanks, boss. I’ll leave you two alone. Text me if you need me to come back over later.”

  It didn’t go without Mac’s notice how excited Danny was for him. That wolf was clever, loyal, and a true friend—no scratch that—brother.

  The time had come. He stood, smoothing the t-shirt and casual jeans he’d decided to wear. Opting to come off as non-threatening and jovial, Mac had dressed like he would during the weekend. He’d noticed how she seemed to deal with Danny with ease yesterday. He could imagine how much of a shutdown he would have received if he’d tried to meet her dressed as he was in one of his power business suits and accessories.

  From his tussled hair that was meant to be carefree to his t-shirt, jeans, and smart watch in place of his more formal timepieces, Mac felt ready to meet his destiny. One last, long, settling breath and he was out the door, headed to the front of the house.

  It was a certainty that this would be his one chance to capture her interest. No pressure—only the fact that he had to subdue his primal and biological desire to claim what was his. As thoughts of how he’d approach her swirled in his mind, Mac made the trek back to the front of the house. Turning the corner to walk into the open receiving area of the front door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

  Standing there with all the confident beauty that was Bronwyn Scott, she stood before him dressed in a business suit that accentuated every curve, revealed shapely legs and ultimately rendered him speechless.

  Again, it was his Dragon that saved the day. When he made it to within a few feet of her, a delicate scent of clean mixed with delicate flowers and lemon captured his senses. She smelled divine. Resisting the urge to take her up into his arms and ravage those full, pouty lips of hers, he instead extended a hand as he said, “Hello, I’m MacMillan Kelnar. Please, call me Mac.”

  .

  Chapter Six

  BRONWYN

  Good God—damn it!

  Had she bowed a little when he said hello? Please, Lord, no. She had to think fast. Something to take her mind away from an incarnation of the grand deity of hotness fast approaching. Take every feature, gesture, and personality trait she’d ever mooned over put them together in a harmonic symphony, and they still couldn’t compete with this man. He was everything she desired and far beyond. If she didn’t know any better Bronwyn might look around for cameras to see if she was on some sadistic show to record how fast she could descend into a painful case of social awkwardness.

  In person, the voice was a force of nature overtaking her in his onslaught of carriage and allure. Said allure coaxed a soft moan of delight as he neared. It would be too easy to say something inappropriate or openly ogle the man. Bronwyn had little trust in her strength not to do that.

  With a few long strides, a by-product of what Bronwyn was sure was at least six and a half feet of perfection, the deity incarnate stood close. Then he did something so curious it through her completely out of orbit for how she’d rehearsed their meeting going. Less than two feet away, the wall that was his muscular torso rested, hovering. The General that lived deep within commanded her to look up and face her challenger. Of what they squared off on, she hadn’t a clue.

  To her discombobulation and chagrin, Bronwyn was met with warmth and intense interest—in her. Her quick scan she used during first meetings like this returned puzzling data. Due to the nature of her business, Bronwyn had to sort out the bad eggs from the get-go. Again, born out of reading thousands of people during her wartime at the airport, she’d developed a way to read emotions and intentions with uncanny accuracy.

  Instead of arrogance, self-importance, and a huge case of affluenza she’d expected to encounter, he projected an enticing canopy of sincerity, gratefulness, and admiration. Maybe due to his age. She could only guess he was older than her normal clients based on his accomplishments, not looks. With age and experience she had to guess Mr. MacMillan Kelnar had learned to tone it down on the rich entitlement vibes. Surely one didn’t look like he did and not have a wee bit of jerkiness. A mental note to be on the lookout for when it showed its ugly head was made and filed in her mental dossier on this one.

  Instead of lingering on his non-jerky behavior, she decided to allow herself to enjoy the refreshing change for a moment, only to sense him moving in closer. A slight lift of her hand and she’d be touching him. Pleasure at the thought of connecting with him through touch forced her eyes closed for a second to process and enjoy the perilous thought. A cold internal slap back into reason had her refocusing and controlling her breathing. There would be no touching this man.

  He might be something else, but her client he wasn’t. That she knew deep down in the recesses of her subconscious, even if her mind tried to make excuses to explore what
the experience would be like if only for a little while. Who was she kidding? Bronwyn had a sixth sense about who was and wasn’t her client. MacMillan Kelnar was as much her client as a lion was a house cat. True power did a poor job of masking itself. This man was powerful beyond anyone she’d ever encountered. His sincere warmth and interest made it that much more sexy and attractive. Somewhere along the way and path of his life, this man had known sacrifice, suffering, and patience. These traits were what had her on the verge of offering herself up to him.

  Flutters born out of overwhelming testosterone, maturity, manliness, strength, and command of his surroundings overtook her. Bronwyn held it together by sheer force of will. Unlike her, no discernible flirtation or sexual interest was coming from him. Nope, it appeared she was alone as usual in her objectification of him based on his appearance and demeanor. Determined to get back into her professional stride, Bronwyn searched her mental databank of tools she could use to move forward with this meet and greet.

  To her great relief, Bronwyn propped up her dignity by showcasing a plastered on smile. Thankful she’d perfected it, Bronwyn used the smile like a shield against the darkness. She’d accessed yet another useful skill that had been forged in the fire of pressure from her time working the customer service desk to rival them all—in person customer service for the largest airline at the busiest airport in the world. That would be in Atlanta if anyone had doubt. Handling hundreds of angry, confused, tired, anxious, and sometimes homicidal travelers daily had produced an instinctual and highly evolved ability to adapt and counter approach to turn a situation around. This stupid smile was the first line of defense. If needed, she’d escalate to the advanced tactics without mercy.

  She couldn’t prove it, but Bronwyn could swear his presence was palpable, like he was more of everything. The alluring scent that filled the space tickled her need to lean into it. With a deep inhale, she knew it was him, not a cologne, but him. Ah, hell, she really was screwed. That’s when she knew her day, plans, and aspirations for controlling their meeting was shot to hell.