by Alicia Banks
“It is our duty as the nobles of the dragon shifters to ensure that there will always be dragon shifters. We do this by keeping the bloodlines pure. We are the strongest and fiercest of the shifter clans, and we must always rule over them all.”
“We don’t rule them anymore, this isn’t the old days, Father.” Alistair couldn’t help himself.
“Alistair, hold your tongue when your elder is speaking,” His father snapped at him. His eyes flashed with anger. Alistair stared him down, his own eyes flashing. A hand touched his, and his eyes softened. He turned to see Phoebe looking at him, her hand still resting on his clenched fist. He pulled his hand away, still seething, but he remained sitting even as he fought every urge to flee to the solitary sanctuary of his gym. His father continued his speech.
“Many clans have fallen due to breeding with humans. Though we must be forced to live amongst them, we do not need to breed with them. We must continue to breed with one another, and so, as tradition states, the clan of Quentin and the clan of McCallister, this green and this blue, are a good match. Today, we honor our ancestors by raising our glass in celebration of combining these two houses, in the promise for a union.”
Alistair stared at the table where the flower arrangement was center stage. The beauty of the blooms calmed him some. The arrangement reminded him of its maker, and that brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t get her off his mind, no matter how much he tried not to think of her.
“Alistair, your glass, raise it; your father has given a toast. Where is your head?” His mother’s voice cut into his thoughts.
He hadn’t realized his father had finished the toast. He quickly lifted it, gave a halfhearted smile at Phoebe and obediently took a sip of the wine in his goblet. His father began the ceremonious carving of the peacock that still had its head attached, the feathers tucked beneath it and plumed for an elegant display. It had been stuffed with a savory bread pudding and was surrounded by baked apples and blood sausage. Once he had made the first cut and had taken the ceremonious bite, the knife and fork were passed to Phoebe's father who made his ceremonious cut and took his bite. Then the peacock was whisked away so that the servants could carve the rest of it to serve after the soup and salad courses.
No one spoke as they shoveled the food into their mouths. Alistair was grateful for that. He liked to enjoy his food, and lobster bisque happened to be one of his favorite dishes. He glanced at Phoebe who seemed to be mindlessly stirring hers. “Not to your liking?”
She leaned over and whispered, “How can you eat? My stomach is in knots.”
“Try to eat something, they’re staring.”
She obediently began to eat, and the elders returned to their own eating. The empty soup bowls and salad plates were removed and heaping plates of peacock, blood sausage, and baked apples came out and were placed in front of each person. Phoebe ate her baked apples but didn’t touch the blood sausage or the peacock, so Alistair waited till the elders were busy eating and snatched her blood sausage from her plate. She gave him a grateful smile.
“What? I happen to like it. Try the peacock, it’s not much different from turkey.” She took a bite and found he was right; it wasn’t much different from turkey. At last, their plates were emptied and whisked away, just in time for dessert. A massive flaming pile of meringues was wheeled out on a cart. The servants put out the flames and cut into the meringues. Under the meringues were layers of fabulous fruits, candied nuts, smooth cold custard, and creamy chocolate mousse. Alistair savored every bite.
“Shall we adjourn for coffee and let the love birds have some time alone together?” his mother suggested.
“A wonderful idea,” her mother said. They all walked out, leaving Alistair and Phoebe sitting at the table.
Phoebe sighed heavily. Knowing he wasn’t the only one not thrilled by the match brought a smile to Alistair’s face.
“What do you say we get out of here?” He stood and offered her his hand.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked as she took it and allowed him to pull her from her chair.
“Fresh air?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.” They walked through the doors of the dining hall and passed the parlor where they could hear the parents talking, then passed through a gilded archway. Alistair stopped to open a pair of French glass doors, and they stepped out onto the terrace that looked over the vast sparkling pool. The moon was bright, and the stars were already out.
Phoebe spoke softly. “Our yard is full of ancient statues of, well, what else, dragons. They represent the dragons that came before us. Father is very big on ancestry and tradition. He’s furious that he never had a son. He’s never forgiven my mother for that.”
“Tradition.” Alistair scoffed. “If tradition stated that the father of the groom must throw himself into a volcano on the night his son and heir was to be wed, my father would do it. He would find a live volcano, climb to the top of it and throw himself in. He follows tradition blindly and never dares to question it. I think some of our traditions are wrong, or at the very least old and outdated. They don’t work in this time, this century, but does he care? No. Tradition is tradition and it must be followed no matter what. Tell me, Phoebe, is this really the life you want? Do you really want to be bound to me for life?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Doesn’t every girl wish to be sold and bound to their master, I mean husband? Used for breeding and then ignored and cast aside, as if she isn’t even a living breathing thing? And curse her soul if she dares not give him an heir.” She flashed him a smirk. “Isn’t it the life you want?”
“I’m a male dragon, of course it’s the life I want. I want to live my life stooped in ridiculous traditions and customs that are so convoluted it’s not always easy to understand them. Curse my soul if I mess it up,” he grunted. She giggled.
She walked ahead of him to the water’s edge where the terrace met the pool. She kneeled, careful to keep her skirt out of the water, and ran her hand through the cool liquid.
“Right, that’s why you have the human-accepting gym.”
“The humans give me money to amass my great fortune.”
“Admit it, you like humans. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. What the traditionalists seem to forget is we were humans once, too.” He laughed.
Her father appeared at the door. “There you are, Phoebe. We’re leaving. Say goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Alistair.”
“Goodnight, Phoebe.” He sighed with relief that the night was over. He stripped out of his suit and dove into the pool of cool water. His thoughts once again returned to the flower shop and its sexy owner.
Chapter 3
Sarai
Sarai threw herself into her work, but her heart just wasn’t into it. Mickey noticed. “Ok, what is with you?” she asked when she found her leaning against the counter twirling an orchid in her fingers.
“What?” Sarai put the flower down and started making the arrangement for the order that had come in. It was Mrs. Steven’s birthday, and her husband always ordered a bouquet of white and yellow tulips for her. This year there would be 53 tulips in the vase. Some were cut short and some were cut longer to stand out in three layers, with a single red tulip sticking out of the top.
“You’ve been this way since Mr. Dreamy walked in. You want to see him again.” Mickey started cutting more tulips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Go to the gym. Take him up on his offer.”
“He has someone. Besides, he’s not really my type.”
Mickey laughed. “Oh really, so hot guys who actually own a gym, that’s not your type? Did you see his muscles?”
“If you like him, why don’t you go.”
“He didn’t invite me. He invited you.” Mickey started cutting stems again.
“What if he does have someone? I’d be making a fool of myself.”
“He invited you to his gym. It’s not a date, it’s a workout. Just go
, get your workout on and see what happens. There’s no harm in that.” Mickey passed her the fresh cut white tulips. She put them in the vase.
“And if there is someone…?”
“Then you got a free workout, and you move on.” Mickey said handing her the next batch of white tulips.
Sarai continued to arrange the tulips. She counted the heads of white tulips. Twenty. She needed five more. Then she could add the yellow tulips. She picked out the last five from the bucket, sized them up and snipped the ends. Then she stopped and turned to Mickey. “He said they were having a dinner party and she would be there. It was for a girl, a woman.” She put the tulips in the vase.
“Yeah, but when you asked if it was a romantic bouquet, he was defensive about it. He said family dinner, not a dinner party. Sounded to me like he was being set up with someone, someone he didn’t really have feelings for. Plus, there was obvious flirting.”
“What? No there wasn’t.” Sarai put the last of white tulips in as Mickey started cutting the stems of the yellow tulips.
“There was a vibe,” Mickey said, handing her the first batch of yellows. Sarai shook her head as she put the flowers in so that their sunny buds rested on the buds of white.
“Bottom line, he invited you; go to the gym. You could use the workout, because he’s right, you know. You’ll never get the full workout at home.” Mickey said, cutting more stems.
“I’m too busy. I don’t have time.” Sarai took the fresh cut flowers from her and arranged them in the vase.
“You’re making excuses. I can finish up here, go to the gym. Go!” Mickey practically pushed her out the door. She gave in, pulled out the card from the pocket of her apron, and headed for her car.
She stopped at home just long enough to change into her cutest workout outfit. She pulled up to the address on the card. It was a large cement block building with a huge dragon painted on the side. The name Dragonstar Fitness was painted above the mural. That’s an odd name. She shrugged, got out, and entered the gym.
There were a lot of people inside. Everyone was so buff and toned. There was a boxing ring where two men were going at it. A few people were punching the heavy backs around the ring in a choreographed rhythm, almost like a dance. One woman was kicking at a bag. Sarai stopped to watch her. She was tall, taller than most women, lean and fit. Beads of sweat rolled down her ebony skin. She was dressed in a black sports bra and tight black leggings that came to her shins. Sarai looked down at her rock band t-shirt and yoga pants. The woman lifted her right leg, threw it out and spun, striking the bag with precision. She landed with grace on her feet.
Wow, if I tried, that I’d fall on my ass.
A man who stood to the side praised her for her moves. Then he demonstrated a second kick before the woman attempted to copy his every move. The man corrected her, and she tried again.
What am I doing? I don’t belong here. Sarai turned to leave.
“Hey, Sarai! You’re here! You look great. I’m so glad to see you again. Let me show you around.”
“Alistair, hi! Wow, this is quite the gym you have here. I’m not really the boxing type.” She felt less awkward after seeing him. His eyes held passion with a hint of gentleness. His long hair was now up in a bun. He was dressed in a tight tank and black basketball shorts. His strong neck, broad shoulders, and plump kissable lips made it hard to resist blurting out the word HOT.
“This is just one part of the gym. We have a weight room, exercise bikes, treadmills, and other exercise machines; plus, plenty of yoga mats.” He eyed her pants.
“Great!”
“Where would you like to start?”
“Exercise equipment.”
“Alright.” He took her through a set of doors, which made her realize his gym was a lot bigger than it first looked. There was a circle of machines around a mat. “Let’s stretch first and then I’ll demonstrate the machines and let you try.”
“Sounds like a plan. I can’t wait to pump some iron.” He raised a brow at her. “It’s an expression, right?” He frowned, but his eyes twinkled as he shook his head. She blushed.
“You’re a runner, so you want to concentrate on your legs and cardio. The treadmill is probably the best place to start. You’ve used one of these before, right?”
“Yeah, once.” He laughed and shook his head. He started the treadmill and moved his feet as if he was walking in place. He clicked a button and picked up his pace. “See, easy.”
“Oh, so you turn it on after you’re on it. That makes more sense. I couldn’t figure out how to get on it once it was moving, and well, I had a little accident, and it was so embarrassing.”
“Just remember to straddle the belt while you turn it on. Then start it slow and gradually pick up the pace.” He slowed it to a walk and then turned it off. “Ok your turn. Straddle it.”
She got up and straddled the belt.
“Now turn it on to walk.” She did as he instructed. “Now put your feet on the belt and just walk.
“Hey this is easy. Look at me, I’m working a treadmill.” He laughed at her wit.
She began to dance. He laughed and shook his head. “Don’t dance, just walk. When you feel ready, move it to a slow jog and then into a run.”
“Yeah I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Try a brisk walk. Pump it up.” She started picking up her pace. “Pump up the dial.” He explained.
“Oh!” She pushed the dial and the treadmill started to move faster and she had to work hard to keep in pace with it.
“Feeling good?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re looking good. Let’s try the next machine. Now when you get off my machines, always remember to wipe it down before you walk away. Anyone caught not wiping down my machine doesn’t get to use it again. I don’t have time to do it, so I require all my guests to do it themselves. It just takes a minute to grab the towel and the squirt bottle. Spray it down and wipe it off.” He demonstrated while ravaging her body with his lustful gaze.
“Ok,” Sarai said, her cheeks heating up as his eyes explored her from bottom to top.
“Now, on to the next machine. Before you can get to the next machine, let’s stretch it out some more.” He stretched with her. Then he helped her with the rowing machine. “Ever row a boat?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve rowed tons of boats.” She grinned. “I go sailing all the time.”
“Rowing and sailing are two different things.”
“Right, yeah, I knew that.”
“Right. Ok to use this machine you sit down, grab the bar, and pull back. Easy right? Just back and forth.” He demonstrated and she watched his muscles bulge with each pull. He did it a few more times before he got up. “Your turn.”
She sat down, and he kneeled to help her strap her feet in. He was inches from her face.
What would he do if I leaned over and kissed him? She watched the tip of his tongue flick out, almost like a lizard’s, and wet his lips. Was he thinking the same thing? Just as quickly, he got up and moved to the other side to strap the other one in. This time he was a little further and the moment passed.
“Ok, all set.” He paused for a moment to look in her eyes. She had never seen eyes the color of honey before. They were mesmerizing and she was getting lost in them. Then he blinked and got up. “Try it out.” She leaned forward, grabbed the bars and pulled. The seat slid back. She felt the click and then slid forward again.
“Ooh! I like this one. I could do this all day.”
“I could watch you do this one all day.” He winked. She blushed. He was flirting with her. But maybe he flirted with everyone. She thought of the dark-haired girl in the other room kickboxing, and couldn’t help but wonder if he had flirted with her too.
Even if he has this idea of taking me to his bed, I wouldn’t let myself. I’m a virgin and haven’t even had my first kiss.
“Ok, let's do some more stretching and move on to the leg press,” he said after he once again wiped down the machin
e for her.
“Oh, now I know that’s gonna be my least favorite one.”
“Why? It’s easy, you just sit back and press out your legs. I find it relaxing. Sometimes I’ll read a book on it. Or even fall asleep on it.”
“If you fall asleep, doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” Sarai asked as she stretched her back. She raised her hands up over her head, her fingers interlocked, and then stretched forward. She caught him watching her and lost focus, failing to do a deep enough stretch. He came over and gently pressed on her back to help her stretch out further. She felt his hot touch through her shirt, and it sent tingles through her body. His hand lingered longer than it needed to.
“Ok, leg press.” He sat down, got his feet into position, locked his hands behind his head and slowly pushed out his legs. It was the sexiest thing Sarai had seen in a long time, and she couldn’t help but nibble her lip. A look on his face told her he caught the look. She blushed and covered her face, embarrassed as he caught her.
“Maybe after we finish up here, we can go to the smoothie bar for a drink.”
“Uh- smoothie bar?”
“Don’t worry, it’s right here in the gym. Just in another section.”
“This place is so big.”
“Yeah! Three stories.” He lied. “There’s a dojo on the third floor, smoothie bar on the second, and the gym.”
“I don’t know, I really should get back to the shop.” She hesitated.
I hardly know him, should I resist this? Oh, but he’s so hot, and he seems to like you. Mickey would tell you to go for it. But what about his mystery woman?
“Come on, a smoothie is way tastier than those protein shakes you’ve been guzzling.”
“Prove it!” she challenged, and accepted his offer.
“Sure, but first, you got to earn it.” He climbed off the leg press. “Your turn.” She grumbled under her breath and then got on the machine. With the eye candy in front of her, she didn’t mind the leg press so much.
