Dragon VIP: Peridot (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 8)

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Dragon VIP: Peridot (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 8) Page 1

by Starla Night




  Dragon VIP: Peridot

  7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires ~ Novella

  Starla Night

  Copyright © 2017 Starla Night

  All rights reserved.

  This novella was originally published in 2017 as “Her Perfect Christmas Dragon” in the anthology All She Wants for Christmas. It was revised and republished as Dragon VIP: Peridot in 2018.

  Created with Vellum

  Blurb

  Disgraced. Damaged. Dull.

  Dragon-shifter Peridot has been called all that and more. Exiled to Earth, he will prove himself and answer his boss's question: What is the mysterious "spirit" of Christmas?

  One woman can give him that answer. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to forget his past and taste her forbidden sweetness...

  Curvy. Klutzy. Cinnamon-scented.

  Karmel knows all about silent longing. She's the queen of falling -- on her face, usually, in front of the guy she most wants to impress. But when a little Christmas magic turns Peridot into her rescuer, she discovers the ice-cold business dragon conceals a hot-blooded male. And he makes her sugar plums dance the cha-cha.

  Except for one little thing...

  Can Karmel teach Peridot the true meaning of Christmas, or are they both about to get burned?

  Contains holiday spirits, cookie disasters, and mistletoe. Heat up the kitchen and unwrap this fun novella today!

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Peridot

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  What’s Next?

  Seduced by the Sea Lord ~ Brief Excerpt

  Also by Starla Night

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks so much to Angela McCallister and Hard Candies Publishing. This is a better story because of you!

  Peridot

  Also known as the “Evening Emerald,” this rare, gem-quality form of olivine occurs in only one color: olive-green. Found in lavas carried up from the mantle and in meteorites, it keeps its shining color even under artificial lighting.

  Peridot symbolizes strength.

  When set in gold, it protects its wearer from nightmares.

  ~ Wikipedia, Peridot; Gemstones.net, Olivine, The Old Farmer’s Almanac, Birthstone Meanings and Months

  Chapter One

  Freezing rain shook the thick salon windows two days before Christmas.

  “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” Karmel sang.

  Jack Frost was not nipping at her nose because she had it buried in the fur ruff of a freshly-groomed Corgi. The fog-shrouded December evening was frightful, but the Corgi’s clean ruff smelled delightful.

  Karmel hummed as she tied a bright red-striped bow on the collar and wheeled the grooming station in front of the motion-sensor camera. She squeezed the dog and silently counted to three. “Smile, Rose.”

  The Corgi, Rose Pudge, woofed agreeably.

  Click.

  The pet salon’s camera posted their selfie to the Instagram account.

  Karmel wheeled the grooming pedestal out of the danger-zone and rubbed the well-named, pudgy dog. “What a good girl. Let’s go find your owner.”

  Rose Pudge jumped off the grooming pedestal and pranced to the lobby.

  Her owner Olivia, a reed-thin elementary-aged girl in matching red fingernails and a velvet holiday dress, cooed over the pup. “Rose Pudge is clean like I dreamed. Thank you so much, Misses Karmel.”

  “You’re welcome.” Karmel led her to the door and unlocked the glass door. Ice-crusted freezer air made her shiver. “Next time, keep her inside the day of your party so you don’t have an after-hours emergency.”

  “I will. Thank you!” Olivia hopped across the greasy, gray sidewalk slush. Her pup’s polished claws scrabbled the dark pavement.

  “I’ll bill your account!” Karmel waved. “Happy Howlidays from Pleased Puppers Pet Salon!”

  The girl waved back. They disappeared into the back seat of an old Lincoln parked under the street lamp.

  Karmel locked the door again. She ran a hand through her hair. Her chipped nails tangled in the riotous brown curls. Oil, she would oil her hair again and tame it before going out. That way, she’d looked like she’d put in an effort to meet—

  Oh, god. What time was it?

  The clock above the cash register chimed six.

  Karmel swore. But she couldn’t just leave. Less than six months into her dream job, she had to prove she was the most responsible groomer.

  She hurried through the grooming suite, grabbed the broom and dustpan, and finished her clean up. Done. Yanking the strings of her apron, she stowed it in her cubby and double-checked the closing procedures. She’d started them when the Corgi had shown up covered in turkey grease and flour.

  “It’s an emergency,” the poor girl had cried. “She got outside into the garbage cans and Gran won’t let me take her to the Christmas party. And I can’t leave her. She’s my best friend.”

  “I understand,” Karmel had said, heart sinking as the girl’s tears had dried. “We can’t separate best friends at Christmas.”

  And she’d capped up her travel mug—which was decorated with a worn Santa Claus face although it got year-round use—and hurried into the grooming suite in her green wreathe leggings. Her sleigh bell earrings jangling with cheer.

  Although she didn’t feel cheerful. Not when she knew she’d be late.

  The male she was meeting already did not approve of her. But Karmel was the best person to answer his research questions. His boss needed to know the meaning of Christmas. He’d promised a big donation to her favorite pet rescue to meet him tonight, so she’d crammed him into a schedule already creaking at the seams.

  Speaking of seams… No time to change now. She tucked loose threads from the faux-fur muffs into her holly berry-red dress sleeves.

  Pet salon owner Monica had been the first to compliment Karmel’s everyday Santa fashion when December arrived. Like a broken clock, once a year Karmel’s elfin hats, holly earrings, and red-and-green wardrobe fillers were in style.

  If she could ever consider a bunch of well-worn thrift shop finds stylish.

  Especially to a male who worked at a fashion design company.

  So long as he was still waiting for her…

  She locked up the cash register, unplugged the gleaming lights, and jammed her travel Santa mug in her overstuffed purse. Karmel passed in front of the motion-sensor camera.

  Click.

  She tackled the chunky camera frame. Where was the power button? Oops, her photo of an arm-half-jammed-in-her-coat-sleeve was uploaded to Instagram. The salon’s followers would discover a disheveled employee sandwiched between their favorite floofy pups.

  There was the power button! She fumbled to flip it—

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Karmel jumped.

  An older, well-dressed woman rapped on the glass door. “You in there? Hey! You in there!”

  She walked away from the still-on camera and checked—the Open sign was dark, as were the front shop lights—and she approached the glass to point at the hours decal. “We’re closed.”

  “Let me in. I need to talk to you.”

  “C
ome back on Friday.”

  “Are you going to make an old woman—one of your customers—suffer in the cold?”

  She was so tempted to say yes.

  The woman saw it. She banged. “I want to speak with your manager!”

  “She’s not here.”

  “You let me in right now!”

  Karmel cinching her coat around her waist and shouldered her purse. Then she turned the key and cracked the door. “Please, ma’am, we’re—”

  “I have a dispute and you need to resolve it.” The woman pushed her way in and stood in the lobby’s center with her arms crossed, her mouth pinched in anger. “You told Olivia you put a grooming ‘on her bill.’ She’s a child. She doesn’t have ‘a bill.’”

  Deep breath. “No, but Rose Pudge is a valued customer of Pleased Puppers Pet Salon, so we’ll catch up at her next appointment.”

  “Now, you didn’t tell me that when I dropped her off.”

  “You didn’t come into the salon.”

  “So, you can’t enter into a business contract with a child. You should be ashamed of yourself for making a child a debtor over a bath.”

  It had been more than a bath.

  “It’s fine,” Karmel assured her, easing toward the door. “She’s not in debt. Her parents bring Rose Pudge all the—”

  “Don’t you dare bring this to her parents. You’re the one who made the mistake. I want it stricken from the record.”

  “Stricken from the record?”

  “You take your fraudulent fee off her record right this instant or I will report you to the Better Business Bureau.”

  Karmel didn’t think she was in the wrong. Monica had a good relationship with her clients, including Rose Pudge’s owners, and handled all unusual circumstances.

  She also didn’t want a complaint. “I can’t—”

  “Where’s your sense of charity? It’s Christmas. Don’t be selfish. You need to give this grooming for free because that’s the charitable thing to do.”

  Karmel’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry?”

  “I said don’t be selfish. Your sign next to the door says you give charity. I don’t see you giving me charity.”

  Karmel turned to follow her gaze to the sign. A happy dog in a bright red doghouse was adorned with a Santa hat.

  Her jaw closed with a click. Now she was mad. “Yes, we accept donations for ‘Home for the Howlidays,’ a multi-shelter mission to find every rescued pet their ‘forever home’ before the New Year. It’s something I organized. Would you like to donate? On top of your payment for Rose Pudge’s grooming.”

  The woman stared at her. “So you’re not giving me the grooming for free?”

  “No.” Karmel’s heart thudded hard. “And if you have a problem with that, you call the owner. Her number is on our cards.”

  “You can’t get treat me like this. I’m a customer.”

  “And we’re closed.” Karmel held the door open.

  Icy December air gusted in.

  The woman made no move to leave. She didn’t even look cold in her open-toe white high heels and navy blue pants suit. Her gray hair was curled up as if she’d paid her own visit to a classy salon. She looked normal but the inflexible jut of her chin said otherwise.

  “Please leave,” Karmel said stiffly.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you fix your mistake.”

  “I can’t do anything. You need to talk to the owner.”

  The woman’s lips twitched like she’d won. “So call her. I’ll wait.”

  “Ma’am—”

  “What’s the matter? You don’t want your boss to find out your customer disservice two days before Christmas?”

  “No, I have a prior appointment.”

  “You’re not getting rid of me with lies.”

  “I do.”

  “Who’s this ‘other appointment’ that’s so much more important than your job?”

  A dangerous male voice answered from the street behind Karmel. “Me.”

  A delicious shiver ran up her back.

  Peridot.

  He strode into the pet salon and owned it. The lobby felt like it stretched to accommodate his form.

  Six feet of implacable male filled a tailored suit. Fine loafers. Shiny gold Rolex. On his head, perfectly styled blond hair. Hard jaw. Glittering green eyes.

  And, if his human form wasn’t intimidating enough, he could always shred his clothes and shapeshift into a clawing, biting, scaly dragon.

  Peridot stood beside Karmel. His tone, like his gaze, could fracture ice. “Your business closed long ago.”

  “I know. Sorry. It’s a long story. After the last person leaves, I can lock up.” She glared at the problem.

  Peridot’s gaze turned on the woman like a laser.

  She twitched. “Are you her manager?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not leaving until I talk to a manager.”

  He strode around the argumentative customer, turned, and formed a wall with his implacable chest. “Leave.”

  She stepped back, toward the door. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I-I’ll call the police!”

  He leaned forward. Curling his lips in the facsimile of a smile made him look even colder. “Good.”

  The older woman gasped. “You can’t talk to me like that.” She backed over the threshold.

  Peridot stalked her onto the sidewalk.

  Clear. Finally.

  Karmel stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. The lock clicked.

  The older woman ruffled herself. “How dare you? You won’t get away with this. I’ll have you fired!”

  “Happy Howlidays,” Karmel told her vindictively and turned on her heel.

  “I’ll ruin your Yelp page. You’re getting zero stars!” The older woman stomped down the street and entered the Lincoln. It squealed away.

  She and Peridot were alone on the darkened sidewalk haloed by fogged-in streetlight.

  Karmel’s heart should have calmed, but it thudded even harder. “Well, uh, should we go?”

  “Go?”

  “To dinner. Your reservation. I’m supposed to tell you how to ‘get in the Christmas spirit’ over drinks and—”

  “Canceled.”

  Oh.

  Dear.

  She was late. She was a mess. She’d fought with a customer. And she’d made him miss their reservation. All the worst ways Peridot could see her, he was seeing her. As usual.

  He turned and walked away.

  “Wait!”

  He paused.

  She cleared the lump in her throat. Her hands shook with residual stress from fighting with the woman. “I’m sorry. About everything. It’s been a long day. Can we reschedule?”

  He half-turned. Street lamps haloed his profile, masking his expression in silhouette, but his tone was slightly surprised. “Reschedule?”

  “Now. If you want. If it’s not… If you want.”

  “Now you are not available.” He turned three-quarters. “You are meeting with your friend, Eva, for decorating the venue of your Holiday Charity Cookie Exchange.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” She got out her phone. There were three missed calls. From Eva. Karmel dialed and held it the ringing phone to her cold cheek. Her nose was drippy.

  Peridot strode away.

  Karmel caught up and continued toward the downtown. “She’ll understand. She’s used to this.”

  He walked abreast of her. “Eva is used to being less important and having her appointments dropped for another person?”

  “Less import—what? No! That’s not—”

  “Karmel?” Eva sounded out of breath. “Are you okay? Peridot called me.”

  “Yes, it’s a long story. Can we get together in…?” She pulled the phone away from her ear to check the time. “…a couple hours? I’m running late.”

  “Oh god, were we decorating today?”

  Karmel felt a little better. “Yes. Did yo
u forget?”

  “I totally forgot.”

  She glanced up at Peridot to say, See, it’s fine, but he focused forward on the spires of skyscrapers, honking cars, and growing crowds of bags-laden shoppers as they descended into downtown Portland.

  “Well, the cookie exchange is tomorrow afternoon, so I thought it would be less stressful if we decorated tonight.”

  “No, you’re right. Um, Karmel, I kind of also forgot to get the decorations.”

  Karmel’s belly dropped. “Forgot?”

  “We had finals and then Syen got the last couple days off and…” Eva trailed off.

  Her stomach rolled. She did not have time for shopping and Peridot. “Can you go get them now?”

  “Bargains-R-Us is closed. The other megastores will be packed. And, er, I’m not in the country right now.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Australia.”

  “Australia!”

  “I always wanted to see Sydney. Christmas in a bikini is a dream.”

  The lump was back in her throat. “So you won’t be here? At all?”

  “No, we will. Just, you know, not early.”

  She made her goodbyes and hung up. Responsibilities weighed down her shoulders. Yes, organizing a cookie exchange for charity had been her idea. But her friends had encouraged her. She’d envisioned it as a fun holiday event with friends. They’d helped with flyers and planning, but one by one, her friends had dropped out. Eva was the last to go. Now it was only Karmel.

  A vision of herself, alone in her apartment’s grand lobby, decorating a sad plastic tree at midnight popped into her brain. She pushed it into a dark corner. That was the future. She had to focus on the now.

  She put her phone in her jacket pocket, took a deep breath, and smiled up at the male walking beside her. “Good news! I’m free after all.”

 

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