Nor had he been comfortable a short time ago as he walked through the hotel to the reception desk and sensed all the avaricious female gazes suddenly turning his way. He’d felt the warmth of color high in his cheeks as some of those gazes seemed to strip the button-down shirt and tailored trousers from his body, along with the black boxers he wore beneath them.
If that was how this week was going to play out, then maybe it was just as well if everyone did believe he was Tegan McCall’s boyfriend—
“Mr. Pendragon?”
Every cell in Bryn’s body froze into predatory alertness at the sound of that husky female voice.
Want.
Now.
What the hell?
“Er—hello?”
Bryn’s vision had changed, become fully dragon, which meant his eyes would now be glowing a deep and unearthly bronze.
“Anyone here?”
Sharp talons shot from the ends of Bryn’s fingers, curled and ready to protect or attack.
“Mr. Pendragon?”
A low growl emanated from deep in his throat.
“There you are!”
Claim now!
Bryn drew in several deep breaths, knowing he needed to calm the fuck down and get his dragon under control before he turned to face the woman he sensed was now standing in the bedroom behind him. He had no idea if it was Tegan McCall, or a maid, but if whoever she was saw him like this, she was going to run screaming from the suite.
He repressed the growl, forced his talons to retreat, his vision to clear—
“Mr. Pendragon…?”
The hand placed gently on his arm, along with the heady female perfume now saturating his senses and sending his dragon into an ecstasy of longing, was Bryn’s undoing as he turned to face the female at a speed much too fast to be merely human.
The woman was probably aged in her mid-twenties and taller than average, but still at least ten or eleven inches shorter than his own six foot five inches. She was slender, and had shoulder-length straight black hair, and the bluest eyes, surrounded by sooty dark lashes, that Bryn had ever seen. Her complexion was creamy, her nose short and pert, her kissable lips a perfect bow and glossed with the same shade of red as the long blouse she wore over fitted black denims.
Kissable lips?
Bryn had never looked at a woman before and thought she had kissable lips.
“Whoa, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Tegan took a hasty step back at the fierceness of the man’s—Bryn Pendragon’s?—expression, as he glared at her with eyes of a color she’d never seen before. Reddish-gold? Bronze? Whatever the hell color his eyes were, the expression in them was so fiercely intense she felt stripped to the bone. Or at least down to her bra and panties. Which wasn’t a good feeling right now. “Bryn Pendragon?” she prompted again nervously.
Except she already knew the answer.
This man possessed the same imposing and dangerous air as the other Pendragon brothers. Which meant he was indeed Bryn Pendragon, the man who was supposed to protect Tegan for the next week.
Question was, who was going to protect her from him?
Bryn was as tall as the other Pendragon brothers she’d already met, and also aged somewhere in his mid-thirties. Although she’d never been able to work out how they could all be of a similar age when none of them were twins, as far as she was aware.
He also had the widest, most muscular shoulders and chest of any of the brothers she’d met. Not the unsightly bulk of a bodybuilder, but all lean and toned muscles beneath his cream button-down shirt and tailored black trousers. His abdomen was flat, and she bet there was an eight-pack beneath his shirt and trousers. His waist was narrow, hips lean, his legs long, and Tegan would take a guess on the latter being muscular too.
Bryn Pendragon had the musculature and moved with all the tensed elegance of a predator about to pounce on its prey.
Her?
The hungry expression in those unusual colored eyes seemed to say that was exactly what she was to him.
Which was utterly ridiculous.
Chloe was madly in love with Nathaniel Pendragon and was expecting his baby any day now; her best friend would never have asked Nathaniel’s brother to protect Tegan if he really was as dangerous as he looked.
A bodyguard was supposed to look dangerous, right?
Of course he was.
No one would take a bodyguard seriously if he was a short, unprepossessing wimp.
Tegan drew in a couple of calming breaths before attempting a smile she hoped wasn’t as shaky as it felt. “Hi, I’m Tegan McCall, and you must be Bryn Pendragon.” She held out her hand. A hand that trembled slightly before wavering and then dropping back to her side, as Bryn Pendragon completely ignored it. “You are Nathaniel’s brother Bryn?” she prompted nervously as he continued to stare at her rather than confirm or deny her previous statement.
Bryn wished Tegan would just stop talking for a few minutes, that husky lilt in her voice hinting at her Irish background. Even a few seconds of silence would be good. Because there was no way he could answer her with all these sharp, pointed teeth taking up so much room in his mouth.
Most of the time, Bryn loved the power and freedom of being dragon, but right now, he could do with his dragon retreating so that he could at least present the semblance of normality to Tegan McCall.
As for touching the hand she’d held out to him…
No way was Bryn touching a single part of this woman’s skin if her voice alone could send his dragon into an ecstasy of excitement that made Bryn’s skin tingle and tighten, and his cock hard. The latter was something that would become embarrassingly obvious to Tegan if she should drop her gaze from his face to where the front of his trousers was now tented outward to accommodate the thickened length of his arousal.
“Are you actually going to answer me and confirm who you are, or shall I call hotel security and have them come up here and throw you out?”
Bryn bit back the smile at the irritation he could hear in Tegan’s voice and the flash of temper in those deep blue eyes. Yes, she was definitely the best friend of his soon-to-be sister-in-law Chloe.
Thankfully, his teeth had at last lost their sharp dragon edge and returned to their human straightness. “A word of advice,” he bit out. “In future, if you think you’re in danger, don’t give someone warning you’re going to call for help, just do it.”
Tegan felt something melt inside her—possibly her brain?—at hearing this man’s deep and gravelly voice for the first time. It suited his tall and muscular body perfectly. He was perfect, she acknowledged with an inner whimper. Not only was he tall, with hair so black it had a blue sheen to it, and his chiseled features were way too handsome, but he had sexiest, most seductive voice she’d ever heard.
Nor was she in the least reassured by the fact that this was the only bedroom she’d seen in the suite as she went through each room looking for Bryn Pendragon. A room dominated by a four-poster bed covered in white silk sheets and pillows, and a black duvet.
The bridal suite.
Which, now that Tegan thought about it, wouldn’t need to have more than one bedroom.
“I already checked, the sofa in the sitting room pulls out into a double bed,” he taunted.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you reading my mind?”
Those bronze eyes mocked her, although there was no accompanying smile on the flat line of those chiseled lips. “Your nervous glance toward the bed gave you away.”
“Am I amusing you, Mr. Pendragon?” she snapped. “Although you have still to confirm that’s who you are.” She frowned.
“That’s who I am,” he bit out. “And no, you aren’t amusing me in the slightest.”
Tegan believed him. There was something in Bryn Pendragon’s voice and the lack of laughter lines beside his eyes and mouth that said very little amused him, and she certainly didn’t make that very short list. Not that she wanted to be a source of amusement for him, but she could do with him lightening u
p a little if they were going to spend the week together.
She gave a shake of her head. “My company won’t pay for me to occupy a suite, and I certainly can’t afford to pay for it. Come to think of it, I can’t afford to pay you to protect me either.”
His jaw tightened. “Pendragon Security is paying for the suite, and I don’t need payment.”
“But—”
“You’re Chloe’s friend.”
“That doesn’t mean that I intend to freeload—”
“There was a vase of a dozen red roses waiting in the room for you when I arrived,” he informed her flatly. “I’ve already disposed of them.”
Oh God…
For a few minutes, totally caught up in the man who was the overpowering Bryn Pendragon, Tegan had actually forgotten about her stalker. The existence of the red roses in her hotel room was not only a stark reminder of him but confirmation this other man knew exactly where she was. That, as she’d suspected, he was also attending the conference.
She’d only gone out with Steven Baker a few times. They had met while at the same awards dinner in England earlier in the year, Steven working for a rival publisher. He was handsome and funny, and Tegan hadn’t hesitated to accept when he invited her out to dinner.
They’d had fun together that first evening, and she’d happily accepted a second dinner date.
Steven had called her at the last minute to tell her he was running late, and asked if she minded if they ordered dinner in at his apartment instead of going out to a restaurant. Well aware of how an editor’s day could sometimes run long, Tegan hadn’t given the change of plans a second thought as she drove to Steven’s apartment.
Everything had seemed okay to begin with. Steven’s apartment was small but tidy and clean. They had ordered in Chinese food, sat on the couch, and drank a glass of wine while they waited for the food to be delivered. They had talked and related some of the funnier stories about the publishing companies they both worked for as they ate. Tegan had refused a second glass of wine, conscious of the fact she had to drive home. They had continued to chat and laugh as they cleared away the debris from the meal before sitting down on the couch again.
Then Steven had made his move.
Tegan had found herself flat on her back on the couch, Steven lying on top of her as his mouth devoured hers, his hands everywhere, before she even had time to realize what was happening. Nor, once she’d wrenched her mouth free of his, had he taken any notice of the word no, nor of her attempts to push him off her.
She’d reacted instinctively, as her two older brothers had taught her, kneeing Steven in the groin and then elbowing him in the throat.
He’d ended up on the floor, one hand cupping his groin, the other his throat, as Tegan quickly got up to grab her bag and stormed out of the apartment.
Steven had been waiting for her as she came out of work the following evening, full of apologies and the hope she would go out with him again as part of that apology. When she’d refused, he’d turned nasty and threatened her. Scorned lover didn’t even come close to describing his vitriol and the warning concerning her seeing any other men.
Only days later, the red roses had started appearing on the windscreen of her car parked in the garage beneath the Hawke Publishing building.
Then the delivery of the red lace underwear.
And the sex aids.
Now there were more red roses in her hotel suite in New York.
How the hell any man thought a woman would be won over by this sort of deranged behavior and threats, Tegan had no idea. She certainly wasn’t.
If she was honest with herself, and she usually was, Steven’s escalating obsession frightened her.
Which was exactly the reason Bryn Pendragon was here.
And Tegan hadn’t exactly been polite to him so far, considering he was here to do her a favor. Well, more accurately, he was doing Chloe a favor, but Tegan was the beneficiary.
“Thank you for coming to New York.” She attempted a smile. “I have no idea how we ended up sharing a suite together, but I’ll contact the front desk and have them arrange a different room for me so you can have your privacy— No?” She frowned as Bryn Pendragon shook his head.
Bryn had watched the emotion flitting across Tegan’s face after he’d mentioned the vase of red roses. The frown, as she obviously thought of the man who had sent them, followed by the fear. His dragon took exception to the man who had caused that latter emotion.
“Chloe changed the booking,” he dismissed. “She was right to do so,” he added firmly as Tegan seemed about to protest. “I can’t protect you if you’re in a different room in the hotel from me.”
She obviously fought a mental battle with herself for several seconds before nodding abrupt acceptance. “Then I’ll sleep on the couch. No?” she snapped her irritation as he gave another shake of his head.
“Anyone entering the suite would have to go past me to get to your bedroom. I’m a very light sleeper.” He bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile.
Tegan eyed him warily. “You’re a little scary, do you know that?”
“I’m a lot scary,” he corrected in a hard voice. “Which your ex-boyfriend will find out if he even attempts to come near you.”
She sighed. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. Not really. I only had dinner with him twice, and I walked out on him partway through the second evening.”
His inner dragon did a little victory dance, which Bryn instantly quelled.
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Color warmed her cheeks. “He got a little too…handsy for a second date.”
Handsy? What the hell did that… Oh.
Bryn scowled. “Nothing like that will happen while I’m here.”
The long column of Tegan’s creamy throat moved as she swallowed. “I really am grateful to you for helping me out this way.”
“No problem,” he dismissed tersely. “Chloe suggested, while I’m here, that it would be for the best if everyone believes I’m your boyfriend— I’m no happier with the illusion than you obviously are,” he snapped at her incredulous look. “But she mentioned something about your company having been taken over, the possibility of redundancies, and the new management not approving of the necessity of one of their editors having a bodyguard?”
She drew in a deep breath before nodding abruptly. “That makes sense,” she accepted, no longer meeting his gaze. “I need to take a shower and change. I have a couple of dinner appointments, plus cocktails later this evening.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” He walked to the door of the bedroom before turning to look at her. “But I’ll be coming with you.”
Her brows rose. “I doubt my authors will be comfortable with that.”
“I’m not here to make your authors happy.”
Her chin lifted. “How about I’m not comfortable with that?”
“I’m not here to make you happy either.” Bryn turned on his heel and left the bedroom before closing the door behind him with a definitive click.
Totally the opposite of what his dragon wanted.
He would much rather Bryn had joined Tegan in the shower.
Because his dragon knew what Bryn refused to accept.
The moment Tegan McCall spoke, his dragon had recognized her.
As his fated mate.
A fated mate Bryn didn’t want.
And had no intention of taking.
Chapter 3
“Are there any more like him at home, honey?” Myra Croft stared across the lounge area to the bar.
Tegan didn’t need to glance that way to know the author was talking about Bryn as he sat on a stool, facing away from the bar as he watched the two women with his brooding bronze eyes. He was nursing a glass of what looked like a gin and tonic, but Tegan knew it was only water with a wedge of lemon in it for flavor. Because she’d been with him at the bar when he ordered it, and because, like his brothers, Bryn didn’t drink alcohol.
Tegan had briefly intr
oduced Myra to Bryn earlier, before the two ladies moved to one of the tables to drink their cocktails. “As it happens, yes,” she said dryly. “Seven of them. Although two of them are married.” Deryk and Izzy had married at Christmas, and Chloe and Nathaniel would be married too once the baby was born. Chloe had already asked Tegan to be her bridesmaid and the baby’s godmother.
The middle-aged woman smirked. “Your man is attracting a lot of attention.”
Tegan was well aware that this side of the bar/restaurant had suddenly become crowded after she and Bryn arrived. Not that he seemed aware of the female attention he’d received then or since, as his gaze remained fixed on Tegan as she sat at a table a short distance away with Myra.
Tegan had baulked a little—a lot!—earlier, when Bryn explained Chloe had come up with the idea of him posing as her boyfriend for the benefit of the people at the conference, rather than her bodyguard. Tegan saw the logic of Chloe’s thinking, especially with all the unrest at Hawke Publishing at the moment. But even the assumption Bryn was her boyfriend brought out goose bumps on Tegan’s arms and sent a delicious thrill of arousal down the length of her spine.
In spite of Bryn’s brooding presence, Tegan had managed to enjoy herself this evening. She’d discovered over the past six months of working at Hawke Publishing that romance authors were a breed of their own, invariably friendly, with an affinity for other romance writers and readers. It made her job so much more enjoyable, felt as if they were all part of a huge club.
“Sure you want to leave him sitting there on his own?” Myra teased as one bold woman approached Bryn and openly began to flirt with him.
Tegan sat back to watch what happened next. Not that she wasn’t able to guess, but… Yep, Bryn had done exactly what Tegan had thought he would by making his displeasure very clear in a few abrupt words. A scowl creased his brow, and he watched, narrow-eyed, as the brave woman left reluctantly, but not without casting a last longing look at him over her shoulder as she did so.
Bryn Page 2
