Ember's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel

by Deborah Cooke

  “From thirty feet away, it’s about sex,” Matt concluded, then finished the beer he’d been drinking on the drive down. He was cocky, the way he usually was when he’d had a couple of beers and wanted to show off. Matt was competitive and he hadn’t scored a wild-card slot this year; Brandon had known that a few beers would prompt his friend to challenge him. It was predictable but not serious. “Tell you what—let’s square it off between sex and romance. Let’s see who gets results first.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brandon asked, although he already could guess.

  “Let’s go for your brunette. She can choose sex or romance. Whoever gets lucky doesn’t have to buy tomorrow night.” Matt stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

  Though he’d expected a challenge, this one annoyed Brandon. He had been raised to respect women, and something about the brunette’s quiet manner made him feel particularly protective of her. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”

  “Either that or you know you’re going to lose,” Matt countered with a grin.

  Dylan started to laugh. “This place is more interesting than I’d thought.”

  “Why don’t we just get something to eat?” Brandon suggested.

  Matt waved off the idea. “Boring,” he said, dragging out the word. He watched the other party wait at the entry to the restaurant.

  The older woman in pink bossed people around in a genial way. She took charge of the arrangements, from the sound of it, bossing around the hostess, as well. The brunette seemed amused and affectionate. She glanced over her shoulder, and Brandon impulsively smiled at her. She blushed and averted her gaze, apparently fascinated by the discussion about seating.

  Brandon knew he wasn’t going to leave without learning more about her. He sensed her awareness of him and it made him smile.

  “She’s not going to know what hit her,” Dylan commented.

  “I’ll order her an extra-large mai tai,” Matt said with satisfaction and headed for the entrance. “On me. It’ll smooth the way.”

  “This I’ve got to see,” Dylan said and continued after Matt.

  “Wait a minute. You can’t just target her,” Brandon objected, striding after his friends. “That’s not right.”

  “Right?” Matt seemed to be amused by this idea. “Look at her. She just got here. For all we know, I’m exactly what she wants on her vacation. All those mainland girls are looking for action.” When they got close to the entrance, Matt preened a bit and smiled at the brunette.

  She was even prettier than Brandon had thought.

  Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head, as if disinterested in Matt’s attention. Her gaze flicked to Brandon again and he rolled his eyes, as if despairing of his buddy.

  She smiled then, a real smile, one that brightened her features and made her look young and even more attractive. Brandon’s heart thumped, and Dylan chuckled.

  “You’re on,” Brandon murmured to Matt.

  Brandon didn’t even know this woman, but he was annoyed by Matt’s behavior. He was going to defend her from his friend, whether she was ultimately interested in him or not.

  It was just the right thing to do.

  One fact was inescapable: the men were gorgeous in Hawai‘i. Liz couldn’t believe how many hunks she’d seen already. They were everywhere—at the beach, in town, on the streets, at this restaurant. There had to be one at every table—never mind the three in the parking lot. They were all tanned and handsome, completely built. She’d never been in a place so filled with incredibly sexy men.

  In fact, everything was gorgeous. This restaurant was perfect and romantic. She noticed the couples dining together and didn’t doubt that this place had seen its share of proposals. The balcony extended into the open air, the lush velvet of the night pressing against the glow of soft candlelight. She could smell the plants growing in the gardens and hear the splash of fountains. It amazed her that they could drive from that perfect beach where they parked for the shuttle and in five minutes be surrounded by lush rain forest and comparative quiet. It was almost overwhelming to be so closely surrounded by the pulse of nature.

  Maybe that was what was feeding her ability to see auras. They were getting brighter by the minute, the people in her group surrounded by glorious hues of light. It almost hurt Liz’s eyes to see so many auras, all throbbing and vibrating with energy. The other guests were nervous and their auras were agitated as a result. The table generated a light show that made her dizzy.

  Liz glanced toward the bar where those three guys were having beers. Their auras were dimmer, more relaxed, and drew her gaze over and over again.

  “Surfers,” Trudy confided with a sniff. She was a contemporary of Maureen’s, but apparently Hawai‘i hadn’t made her relax. Her dark hair was tightly pulled back and she spoke more quickly and decisively than the others. “Completely self-indulgent,” she added, then sipped her mineral water.

  Liz looked at the auburn-haired guy again, the one who had smiled at her a couple of times already. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem predatory. She found his confidence appealing, and she sensed that he was comfortable in his own skin. She liked the steady hum of indigo that was his aura, despite her distrust of the reappearance of those auras. Her interpretation of them was intuitive. This aura told her that he would be loyal and dependable.

  She didn’t want to use her ability to see auras to judge people, but couldn’t shake the impression.

  His dark-haired friend had an aura of pulsing green. He, too, was loyal to his friends, but competitive and cocky.

  He was like Rob.

  The third guy, the blond one, had an aura like golden honey. He’d be a good friend, easy to spend time with, relaxed but unambitious. He was the kind of guy who could do nothing with his life and not worry about it.

  No, the auburn-haired guy was the keeper. There was a tattoo on his chest, although Liz couldn’t fully see what it was, and she glimpsed part of another on his arm. He was drinking beer, chatting with his friends. She liked the rich sound of his laughter. His eyes twinkled when he caught her looking, and he toasted her with his beer before he took a swig.

  Probably thinking that he knew what she was thinking. Liz developed a fascination with the menu, fighting a smile. Wouldn’t he be surprised if she confessed to comparing auras?

  “The shrimp is good,” Maureen said, as dictatorial and kind as ever. “They’re farmed locally.”

  Before Liz could answer, the waitress put a large drink in front of her. “With the gentleman’s compliments,” she said, gesturing to the dark-haired surfer. His smile had a roguish tinge that confirmed her earlier conclusions.

  She wasn’t interested in just sex.

  She told herself that she would have known the kind of guy he was even without being able to see the auras.

  Liz pushed the glass away with her fingertips. “Thanks, but no. Please give the gentleman my thanks.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “It’s the jumbo mai tai. House specialty.”

  “I’d just like a glass of white wine, please.”

  The waitress shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She picked up the drink and the guy at the bar scowled. Liz peeked and the auburn-haired guy was debating something with his blond friend, as if he hadn’t even noticed. He turned and gestured to the sky beyond the roof over the balcony and she admired the breadth of his shoulders, the unruly tangle of his hair. It was long, long enough to tempt her to touch it. And that tan…

  A gorgeous keeper.

  She didn’t know anything about him and she wasn’t going to rely on auras. That part of her life was over. Liz took a gulp of her wine as soon as it arrived.

  She finished the glass before the food arrived, and Maureen ordered her another before she could argue.

  It tasted even better than the first one. The auras got brighter, but the wine made Liz worry less about them.

  She told herself that it was the wine that made her feel vi
tal and excited, but deep in her heart, she feared otherwise.

  She feared that her powers were back.

  Even if she didn’t understand why or how.

  Chapter 2

  The brunette’s party relaxed as it got later. They didn’t drink much, Brandon noticed, but what they did drink loosened their inhibitions. They laughed more and were obviously having fun. The brunette kept glancing his way, but he wasn’t in that much of a hurry to make a conquest.

  She seemed different from the women he usually met. She looked like she was a bit older than him. She also looked like she had a job, like she had it together in a way that the girls who hung out at the beach seldom did. But then, he wasn’t in a bar; serious people came to restaurants like this one.

  Brandon missed serious people. Sometimes he tired of his surfer friends and their inability to look beyond the next wave, the next meal, the next pleasure.

  The brunette looked as if she had goals and direction, which was something he didn’t see often. She wasn’t interested in Matt, she’d made that clear, which also made her different.

  He wondered what she was looking for in a guy.

  He wondered whether he had any chance of delivering it.

  He, after all, also had a goal and direction. Maybe they had more than that in common.

  Brandon had felt a new optimism lately. The shadow that haunted him—and the truth of what he really was—seemed to be a more distant threat and maybe one that could be banished forever. It was a good feeling to be almost able to forget the dragon—like catching the perfect wave early—and he wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible.

  When her group spilled out into the parking lot in the wee hours, he trailed behind them. He made some excuse, which didn’t fool Dylan, and left his friends in the bar.

  “I tell you, we’ll be able to see the eclipse,” insisted one guy, tapping his watch. “It’ll start any minute now.”

  “Three and a half hours’ duration,” added another guy. “Are we going to stand in the parking lot all night?”

  “Let’s stay here for a few moments. There’ll be less light pollution than back toward town,” the older woman said, making her suggestion sound like an edict. “We can watch the beginning.”

  The others did as they were told.

  Brandon remembered that there was supposed to be a total lunar eclipse on this night. The night was clear, the dark sky filled with stars and the glowing orb of the full moon. He stood and stared at that radiant moon. The warm wind tousled his hair and he could smell the plumeria in the brunette’s lei. His heart was filled with an affection for this island where he had chosen to live, and the promise of the future.

  By the end of the week, he could have his future secured.

  And something to offer a woman like this one.

  “Here we go!” cried one of the women, and Brandon saw the first increment of shadow slide over the full moon. The group stared upward, enraptured.

  Brandon would have happily stared, as well, but a strange sensation distracted him from the view. His hand was warm but tingling. He glanced down to find orange sparks dancing over the fingers of his right hand, the hand closest to the brunette’s group of friends.

  At first he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but the flames grew larger, becoming a radiant orange glow that outlined his entire hand. It looked unreal. The fire slid up his shoulder, and he knew it wasn’t an illusion because he could feel its heat spreading over his skin like a bonfire. At the same time, a warmth filled his body.

  Brandon glanced around himself, but no one else had noticed the fire.

  And no one else had the same corona of flames around his body.

  What was going on? Matt and Dylan had come out of the restaurant and were arguing about who would drive. The brunette’s friends were fixated on the moon.

  But the sensation kept getting stronger. When the flames danced down his side, Brandon felt himself become sexually aroused. He was on fire, filled with lust and desire, simmering as he never had before. He spread his hands, looking down at his feet as they were illuminated by the strange orange fire; then a spark leapt from his fingertip.

  It cut a blazing arc through the air, one that spewed sparks as it scorched a trail through the night. The spark collided with the shoulder of the brunette. She jumped as if the spark had singed, then turned to look for its source. Her gaze locked with Brandon’s and he was shocked that her eyes seemed to be filled with light.

  She was glowing, her skin appearing golden and luminescent. There were sparks flying off the tips of her hair and her face was flushed.

  What was going on? Her eyes rounded in surprise and her lips parted. Brandon felt another simmer of sexual desire and saw an answering heat in her eyes. Their gazes held across the golden glow of light, and the brightness intensified. Sizzling. Crackling. Demanding. Brandon felt as if they were alone, standing outside of time, as the light brightened between them.

  For a moment, he didn’t think about the flames. He simply saw the pretty brunette looking at him, really looking at him.

  Without using Chen’s powder.

  He sensed her interest as keenly as he could smell the flowers in her lei. His dragon senses sharpened in that disconcerting way, but for once, he was glad of the detail. He heard her pulse leap and felt her inhale quickly. He could smell her body’s natural perfume, almost disguised by the smell of the flowers. He saw her flush a little and he knew that she was attracted to him.

  Just him.

  He hadn’t had to encourage her with that powder of Chen’s. That was so special that Brandon wanted to be even closer to her.

  He had to know more.

  Brandon took a step into the golden halo of light, liking how her eyes widened a little in awareness, liking that he could now see just how blue they were.

  His heart was pounding so hard that he felt dizzy—no, he felt dizzy because his heart was matching its pace to hers. He could hear her pulse and his own and felt them synchronize. It was a powerful and overwhelming sensation. The beat resonated through his body, pulsed through his veins, made him sharply, keenly, utterly aware of her. She was the center of his world. His sun.

  When she smiled, he wanted to be hers.

  That was when Brandon realized what was happening. He was having his firestorm. He was meeting his destined mate, the one woman in his entire life who could bear his son.

  He’d heard about the firestorm, but only vaguely, from his parents. He’d never really thought it would happen to him—or that if it did happen, it would be centuries from now. But as he stood and felt the burn of the firestorm, he experienced a new clarity of thought.

  This woman had seemed special and different to him because she was special and different. This was destiny. She was his destined mate. It wasn’t Chen’s powder that had brought him good luck lately; it had been the promise of the firestorm. This was his chance to do something important and to do it right. He had been ready for an opportunity to make a lasting relationship, and here was his chance. He had a duty to fulfill the firestorm, which meant he had to pursue her.

  Without spooking her with his truth.

  This was his shot, in more ways than one. Everything hung in the balance. He could do better than his father. Brandon had to believe it.

  All he had to do was keep his dragon in check.

  He would romance her. He would woo her and he would win her, and he would conquer the dark force within himself forever—with her help.

  His dragon shifter nature had always been a dark secret, an embarrassment, an obstacle to close friendships. He’d resented it, blamed it for his feeling alone in a crowd, wished he’d never been cursed with it.

  But the sensation of the firestorm was wonderful, exhilarating, powerful. It was the only good thing about being Pyr, and it was happening to him.

  To them.

  He smiled and stepped toward her, offering his hand. The sparks danced and crackled, as if a bonfire burned between them.
She stared at those flames, glanced at her friends—who were so busy staring at the moon that they hadn’t noticed anything odd—then took a bold step toward him. Her eyes danced and her smile broadened. Brandon felt like they had a secret, a magical connection, because they did.

  The firestorm.

  Her hand was in his, the flames crackling between them, the heat filling his blood. The light spread over her skin, dancing over her, making her eyes sparkle. She would have asked a question, but Brandon didn’t want to risk the loss of the magic.

  He let instinct rule.

  He tugged her so that she was against his chest. Her hands fell on his shoulders and she looked up at him, his own desire mirrored in her blue eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to bend his head and claim her lips with a kiss.

  And the firestorm surged through his veins, filling him with hope and desire, persuading him that it knew best of all.

  Liz felt that spark electrify her.

  Firedaughter.

  The word resonated in her thoughts as the old fire surged through her veins. Her power was back, against all rhyme and reason. She couldn’t explain it, but the evidence was irrefutable. And magic was like that—it played by its own rules.

  This was why she’d felt more alive than she had in fourteen years. Arriving here had somehow jolted her awake from a long sleep and rekindled her powers. She was immersed in the sensory power that had once filled her days and nights, and it felt so good and so right that Liz had no desire to throw it away again just yet.

  Maybe she was drunk.

  Maybe that was why she didn’t care.

  But she wanted all the sensation that she’d denied herself for the past fourteen years. She wanted to wallow in it, savor it, and enjoy it.

  Just for a few moments.

  In this moment of moments, making out with the most irresistibly sexy guy she’d ever met suited her just fine. She didn’t even know his name. She didn’t need to know his name. It was one soul-searing kiss, and after that, she’d never see him again.

  Liz wasn’t impulsive about sex. She wasn’t someone who lost control. She wasn’t impetuous or inclined to indulge her passions.