by Meg Ripley
Dirk reached across the table and covered her hand with his own. “Hey, you can’t think about it like that. Those men needed help, and you did everything in your power to give it to them. I saw with my own eyes men who had not only been saved from suffering major disabilities but given the chance at being more than human. You said yourself that the government would set them up with a revolutionary therapy for soldiers and have them fixed up and home in no time.” She had told him numerous stories about her time with the proposed super soldiers. They had been kind and respectful to her, and it had only been Dr. Brinkmann that they had truly reacted negatively to. Alyssa hadn’t seen it at first, but Dirk had been happy to point it out. She deserved to know that she was the good guy in a bad situation.
She squeezed his fingers. “Yeah, you’re right.”
A large man with a scar on his chin and a crooked nose stepped up to their table. “Mr. Cross is ready to see you now.”
“Thank you, Bruno.” Dirk escorted Alyssa out of the lounge and down a short hall to a set of stone stairs. They wound their way up through the building until the steps opened up into another hall, this one lined with mirrors and flaming torches.
“This is all very cloak-and-dagger,” she commented with a smile.
He hadn’t really thought about it like that before, but she was right. “I think Cross wants us to take a good look at ourselves before we go in to see him. He wants to remind us of who we really are and where we come from, but also that we’re not any better than he is.”
“Does he need to use those sorts of tactics?” she asked. “Is he in danger of getting voted out as president?”
“Oh, hell no. He owns the building, and nobody would ever challenge him.” Dirk stepped up to the double door at the end of the hall and paused a moment while it swung in on silent hinges. As soon as the two of them stepped through, the door closed behind them. He nodded to the heavyset man behind the large wooden desk and gestured for Alyssa to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of it. He sat next to her. “Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Cross.”
The president of the Darkblood Society tipped back in his chair and scratched his chin. “I’m not sure if you should really be thanking me.”
Dirk felt his heart slip a little in his chest. Cross hadn’t liked his idea. “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Mr. Cross ran a hand over what was left of his dark hair. It was slicked back against his head, the dark strands having been separated by a comb and showing the pale scalp underneath. “You see, I’m going to go for this.”
“That’s wonderful!” Alyssa breathed.
Cross glared at her and then once again at Dirk. “I’m going to say yes, but I don’t think you realize just how hard you’re going to be working.”
Alyssa nodded enthusiastically, her hair catching on the material of her shirt. “That’s no problem. I’m used to working hard, and I really don’t mind.”
“Good,” Cross said, his jowls jiggling a little. “Because it isn’t going to be easy to play doctor to a crowd of rowdy dragons. Some of them aren’t going to want to come to you—even when they need to—just because they’re stubborn. We might have injuries or illnesses that occur at any time of the day or night.”
“I can handle it, I assure you.” Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm even in the dim room.
“I plan to talk to the members and ask for volunteers to give you any tissue and blood samples you may need. That way you can get started on some research and have a little knowledge under your belt before we have the need for it.” Mr. Cross glanced at Dirk and then back to Alyssa. He checked some notes he had jotted on a piece of paper. “Dirk tells me you’ll need a clinic right here on the premises, to make matters a little easier and to keep things discreet.
Dirk grinned, barely listening to the two of them go through the process of setting it all up. He and Alyssa had come up with the idea in the middle of the night between lovemaking sessions, when they had stopped once again to think about reality and what they were going to do with their lives. Dirk had to return to Bennett Energy, but Alyssa couldn’t go back to what was left of Bios Labs. Though Dr. Brinkmann’s intent behind studying dragons had been an evil one, the idea itself wasn’t bad. There hadn’t ever been a physician capable of treating shifters, and it could turn out to be useful. Alyssa was the perfect candidate. Alyssa would have a lot of work to do to figure out how their anatomy and physiology worked, but she was thrilled at the idea of doing it.
And she was so beautiful when she was excited. The flare of intrigue in her eyes and the softness of her face let Dirk know that they were doing exactly the right thing for her. Dirk, however, wasn’t satisfied just with getting her a job. It would be yet another situation where she made great advances nobody could know about. He proposed they start their own lab, one that she could head officially and where she could take credit for the work she did, and he would back it fully with funds from Bennett Energy. She would get her chance at publishing her findings when it came to public information about her work, but Alyssa would always have a secret side project.
Cross cleared his throat, bringing Dirk back to the moment. “I think that about covers it. Get me a list of all the supplies you’ll need, and I’ll make sure they’re all here for you. If you need any assistance with getting it set up, just come see me. As I’m sure you can imagine, we don’t just hire regular contractors around here. I have certain people I’m willing to work with.”
Alyssa put her hand over the desk and shook his. “Not a problem at all, Mr. Cross. I look forward to working with you.”
“So do I. It’s not every day that we find a regular human who’s so useful. I’ll see the two of you later.”
Dirk glanced at Alyssa’s face as they walked out of the office. He had never seen her look happier, and he couldn’t wait to tell her. There was a lot of work to be done, but maybe there was just enough time to slip back to his apartment and have a little celebration.
“Oh,” came Mr. Cross’s voice from behind them. “What are you going to name your new lab? Nothing too obvious, I hope. I don’t want it to have anything to do with dragons. Ethan has already pushed the limit on that one.”
Alyssa’s blue eyes darted to Dirk, startled. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I hadn’t thought that far out.”
“How about something simple and direct, like Thompson Laboratories,” Dirk suggested. Alyssa deserved to have the place named after her. None of this would have happened without her, after all.
Cross waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Sounds fine to me. Now go on. I have work to do, and so do you.”
The two of them scurried out of the office and back into the mirrored hall. “Can you believe it?” Alyssa asked breathlessly. “I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.”
“I’d say you have, considering that you got Cross to not only let you in the Club, but poke and prod at the members.” Dirk wrapped his arm around her. “He’s always been very picky about who he lets come through the doors.”
“It really is going to be a lot of work,” she admitted as they came to the top of the stairs, “especially since I’ll be working on starting the lab at the same time. I’ve got to find a building, gather all the equipment, hire some employees—Oh! I never asked him how much money I’m allowed to spend on the clinic. I’d better go back.” She turned to go back toward Cross’s office door.
Dirk stopped her with an arm around her waist. “Don’t bother. His meeting with us is over, and he’s probably moved on to something else. Besides, if he didn’t give you a budget, that means you don’t have one.”
Alyssa furrowed her eyebrows in concern. “Are you sure? Because even for a small clinic there are a lot of things I’m going to need. There are certain places where I could cut corners, but I need to make sure I have enough funding for all the right equipment.”
He directed her back toward the stairs. “Trust me, I’m sure. I’ve spent enough time around here to know that mone
y isn’t an object. Cross is a smart man, and he knows what he’s getting into.” Dirk paused a moment, considering whether or not the time was right to share the other bit of news he had for her. “And you should also know that my father fully endorses Bennett Energy’s support of Thompson Laboratories.”
Pulling away so she could see his face fully, Alyssa’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think he was interested in anything that had to do with science.”
Dirk shrugged. “He didn’t at first. He thought it was just a wild dream that would never pan out. But he’s starting to come around and see that there’s a lot more to his company that just selling oil byproducts—or at least, that there should be. I know you spent some time talking to him, and I think that helped a lot. He likes you.” Dirk had been shocked himself when Mr. Bennett had sat down with him in his apartment and told him everything he was willing to do. It made sense for his father to have a vested interest in Thompson Labs, considering they could create a new fuel source that would keep Bennett Energy from dying out once fossil fuels became too expensive. He didn’t mind the idea of Alyssa researching the shifters, either, and he wanted to keep her happy. The elder Bennett had made it all sound like a very shrewd business deal, but Dirk knew it was a lot more than that. The old man had shown up at Bios Labs because he’d been concerned about his son, and he hadn’t hesitated to go to one of Dirk’s best friends for help. That told Dirk his father had not only forgiven him for wanting to take his own direction with the company, but he had accepted him.
“We’re really doing it,” Alyssa sighed as they reached the lower floor of the Club and headed for the door. “I want to call a real estate agent right away. There’s an amazing building downtown that just came on the market last week. I haven’t been inside, but I think it could be a great fit. I want a chance to bid on it before anyone else snaps it up.”
Dirk smiled and opened the door, leading the way into the brilliant sunshine. It was a stark contrast from the dark, cozy interior of the Club, but the fresh air was just what he needed. He would have to make sure he and Alyssa took plenty of long walks and got out of the lab as often as they could. As the thoughts came, he realized how nice they were. He didn’t need to worry about Alyssa using him for his money or leaving him for someone who could give her a more exciting life. She was bold and she was smart, but she was also practical. He smiled to himself, realizing that he had never considered practicality to be one of his strong suits. But it didn’t matter now. They had a future to build together.
He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth as he allowed himself a brief fantasy about the woman on his arm. As soon as he had her in the door of his apartment, he would tear off every thread of clothing that covered her beautiful body. They would try something different this time. Maybe he would bend her over the back of the couch and take her from behind, reaching around those sexy hips of hers to make sure she got everything she needed. Or he might push her up against the wall and make things a little rougher this time, watching those gorgeous breasts jiggle in front of his face as he plunged into her over and over again. All he knew was that he wanted to entangle his body thoroughly with hers. Then again, he might tenderly make love to her in his bed, worshipping her as she deserved. Either way, he knew they would wrap their arms around each other when they were done and talk about all the exciting things they would achieve in their new lab for years to come.
“Call the agent,” he agreed, “but I hope she can’t see us for at least a couple of hours.”
“Why? Are you ready for lunch?”
“No,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m just ready for you.”
THE END
Part II
Hunter’s Desire
Dragons Of Sin City
Hunter’s Desire
Over the last few centuries, I've grown accustomed to getting exactly what I want.
Women who aren’t swayed by my good looks--or my reputation in bed--tend to be swayed by my eleven-digit bank account.
But not this one.
As a brilliant archaeologist, Claire Thomas has plans of her own for her time here in Sin City, but her tempting blue eyes and gorgeous curves are fueling the fire that blazes within every fiber of my body.
Her pull over me is more than mere physical attraction, though. As much as she tries to hide it, she has a powerful gift--a gift that could put her in mortal danger if it’s discovered by other dragons. Namely, my brother Damon.
I have only two choices: I can betray my family, or I can betray my heart.
But no matter how high I soar above the clouds, this enchanting beauty stays with me.
1
The stars had seemed so bright in the dark sky of the North York Moors National Park just a few nights prior, but here, in the heart of Sin City, the lights of the Las Vegas Strip flickered and flashed with such brilliance, that the modest twinkling of those celestial bodies high above could scarcely be seen. It was magnificent, but in the same way the violent wrath of a hurricane inspires awe and wonder.
A shiver rippled down Claire’s spine, not quite in fear, but not so wholly different from it either. She’d been to plenty of big cities, from Glasgow to Alexandria, but this was her first trip to the United States, and this manmade wonder of a city was certainly the most luminous of all the places she’d seen. It seemed to light up every dark corner, leaving no shadows and no place to hide. But that was merely an illusion, was it not? Las Vegas was the epicenter of every wicked pleasure the world had to offer.
Standing at the intersection of Tropicana Avenue and Las Vegas Boulevard, her muscles twitched with the urge to scurry back to the airport. It wasn’t that she was a timid being by any stretch of the word, but a woman with secrets such as hers couldn’t help but feel overly exposed in such brilliant surroundings. Unfortunately, flying off to a dark, little corner of the Earth wasn’t an option.
She’d decided on a whim to catch an early flight, arriving days before she was expected. Now though, she questioned the logic behind spending an unnecessary weekend in the luminescent metropolis. Nevertheless, what was done was done. Besides, with the streets and buildings teeming with people, one woman was unlikely to draw any undue attention.
“You get used to it after a while,” Will Jamieson said good-naturedly in a deep, booming voice that contrasted sharply with his tall, wiry frame as he followed her gaze from one bright sign to the next. “Either that, or you start wearing sunglasses around the clock.”
She laughed, thinking that wasn’t an entirely ridiculous idea.
She’d worked with Will on and off again for the past five years, often ending up in overlapping research projects. He was the only person in the U.S. she knew well, and he also happened to be the assistant in charge of the collection at UNLV. He’d offered to show her around the city when they spoke on the phone last month, but at the moment, the only part of the city she wanted to see was the exit.
Still, he was the whole reason she’d decided to arrive early. He’d been her only friend for years, though they hadn’t spent more than a few days’ time together in the same city. Mostly, they communicated through phone or email. It was safest that way, but it was nice to get together with him outside the professional arena.
Determined then not to make a beeline for the airport, or to hide away in her hotel room, she squared her shoulders and motioned for Will to take the lead. And off they went in a straight line, which brought them to the entrance of one of the most well-known hotels in the city. Another monstrous building, of course, though one lacking the intricate detail of the historic buildings of Armagh or Rome.
Amazed nevertheless, she walked through the glass doors and into the massive lobby, the click of her low heels echoing against the marble floors despite the throng of people milling about. The concierge desk was easy enough to find, and ten minutes later, they were equipped with tickets to the evening’s entertainment: a much-raved about variety show in which they were lucky to snag tickets for, at least acco
rding to the concierge.
And it certainly lived up to the concierge’s praise. The acrobatic performance was impressive, a far cry from the traveling circus her uncle had taken her to see as a child. The dancers were truly mesmerizing, moving with so much grace, it appeared as though the laws of gravity didn’t apply to them; that they floated over the glossy surface through every twist and turn.
Even the magician was entertaining. Though the illusionist she’d seen dazzle an audience in Cairo was a uniquely skilled performer, this man—a tall, lean man, despite his fifty years—had a kind of stage presence that captivated the viewer.
It was clear that his act was rising to its pitch when he looked out over the audience. “I’m in need of a volunteer,” he crooned into his microphone.
As he looked over the crowd, she could almost feel the intensity of his gaze as it settled on her. She silently willed him to move on, but it was clear his perusal had ceased as the spotlight centered above her head and he pointed directly to her.
“Would you please come up and help us out, Miss?” he asked expectantly.
Out of a crowd of thousands of people, what were the chances he would have singled her out? Then again, it certainly wasn’t the strangest thing to ever happen to her, was it?
She debated slinking down in her seat, but Will was making a concerted effort to push her out of her seat by her elbow.
“Go on, get up there, Claire!” he encouraged with a big, goofy smile on his face. She would have to clarify with Will later that showing her around Las Vegas did not involve showing her the theater stage—particularly not when there were thousands of people in the seats surrounding it.
Avoiding the stares from the people in the seats next to her, she rose graciously and made her way to the stage, vowing never to return to Las Vegas again.
