by T. S. Ryder
Although it would be worth being shot a dozen times if it meant she could be free from this awful life. Maybe, if she found the right man, she could even be a mother eventually.
Arabella shook off the thought. There was no way that a woman like her could be a mother. The organization had stolen that possibility from her.
She headed for the kitchen, intending to start breakfast for Grayson – because building his trust was a necessity, not because she enjoyed the smile he gave her when he saw the food waiting for him, or the sparkle in his eyes when he teased her about being the perfect housewife – when all hell broke loose.
It started with a single cry that rose to a howl and ended with a second small voice sobbing. Arabella hurried for the twins' room. She entered to see Hudson sitting on the floor, his hands pressed over his ears, his small face twisted up and red as he screamed. Olivia stood on her bed, shaking the headboard. A long howl echoed from her mouth as well as smoke and flame. Her pajamas were torn in two as a pair of stubby wings sprouted from her back and her skin took on a pearly-pink glittery tone.
"Olivia, stop," Arabella called. She hurried past Hudson and grabbed a blanket, smothering a small fire that was once a wooden horse.
The little girl screamed at her and kicked the bed. Arabella reached for her as another burst of red-yellow flame burst from Olivia's mouth. The heat seared over her skin, sending her nerve endings into overdrive. The smell of singed hair filled the room. Arabella pulled back, pressing her lips together to stop the instinctive scream.
Hudson's cries reached a high-pitched crescendo. Tears poured down his little face, his eyes turning to a blue-green color. He was about to Shift, too.
Grayson ran into the room, half-dressed, shaving cream all over his face. He took one look and swooped to Olivia. He seized her around her waist and lifted her from the bed before she could do any more damage, then cradled her against his chest. Arabella scrambled over to Hudson and pulled him into her arms.
"It's okay, it's okay," she said. "Are you hurt?"
A quick look showed that he wasn't, but he didn't quiet. Arabella rocked him as he dug his hands into her shirt and buried his face into her shoulder. She glanced up at Grayson. Would he think that she had done something to his children? He rubbed Olivia's back as she alternatively threw her arms around his neck and kicked him in the stomach.
"Mama!" the little girl cried. "I wan' Mama!"
"I know." Grayson's voice broke as he rocked her. "I know, sweetheart. But Mama isn't here anymore."
Olivia hit him with a closed fist. "I's saw her! She's stood overs me and was singing. Then I's open my eyes and she gone."
Arabella nearly gasped. Had she been dreaming of her mother? It had been a year since Christine Alexander died. How could Olivia still remember her? Grayson sat in the middle of the floor, blinking rapidly. Olivia's cries turned from angry to heartbroken. Hudson buried deeper into Arabella's arms.
A lump rose in Arabella's throat and tears unexpectedly pricked her eyes. It had been seven years since she had last seen her own mother. She had been sixteen. Her memories were hazy. The organization liked the recruits to pretend that nothing had come before them. Over time, it started to feel like that was the case.
The heartbroken sobs from the children continued and now tears ran down Grayson's face as well. Arabella turned away, trying to force down the swell of compassion and emotion rising in her. She had a mission to complete. Her normal life would be forfeited if she allowed herself to gain any sort of connection with the Alexanders that would compromise the mission.
She wasn't sure how long they sat there cuddling the toddlers until the sobs turned to whimpers. First Hudson and then Olivia dropped off to sleep. At that point, Grayson awkwardly stood and Arabella passed Hudson to him. He carried the twins to his bed and tucked them in. They curled against each other, their hands grasping each other in their sleep. Arabella stood in the doorway, fighting the ache in her chest.
He was such a good father. A better father than anybody she had ever known. It was clear before that his children meant the world to him, but now, more than ever, how devoted he was just hit home.
Grayson smoothed his children's black hair, looking oddly vulnerable for such a big, intimidating man. His massive shoulders sagged as he moved away from them and Arabella pretended not to see when he lifted his hand to wipe away a few tears.
"We'll let them sleep a little while longer," he said when he was at Arabella's side. "I am going to stay home today."
"Of course," Arabella agreed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stick around, too. I know you'd like to spend more time with them, but I think it would be good for them to know that me being here doesn't mean you won't be."
Until she took them away from him. Kidnapped them. She tried to push the thought and guilt away. It was her job.
Grayson gave her a weary smile and nodded. "That would be good."
"Let's go to the kitchen. I'll make some tea."
This would have been much easier if she had just been given the assignment to kill him before she got to know him. Arabella struggled to maintain her composure as they went to the kitchen. Grayson sat at the table, his whole body sagging with the weight of fatherhood.
"Sometimes I worry that they've forgotten her," Grayson said suddenly. "I know they will eventually. It hurts to think that they won't remember the mother who loved them so much. But then something like this happens . . . I don't know what's worse."
Arabella set the tea in front of him and hesitantly put her hand over his. "She won't be forgotten. You remember her."
A sad smile crossed the dragon's face and he turned his hand over, squeezing hers gently. "Yes. I'll always remember her. And I am not going to let anybody else die like she did. It's so . . . unnecessary. I just wish people would actually care."
"You care. And you're a good father to those kids. Your wife would be proud of you," Arabella said, chewing her lip awkwardly.
"I do. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who does."
"You're not. Lots of people care. It's just that some of us can't get over our own problems. We don't know what it's like to look at others and see theirs."
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself." Grayson smiled warmly at her, sparking a flutter in her chest. She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip was firm.
She knew what he was going to do as he leaned closer, his eyes focusing on her lips. Her mind went blank. She didn’t know if she should allow this to happen or not. The mission . . .
Grayson's lips brushed against her own. Her lips tingled, sparks flying through her blood. Arabella leaned into the kiss, all thoughts of why she was here fleeing her mind. All she knew was that she wanted this, to feel this warmth and comfort. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she teased his mouth open. He picked her up and set her on the counter, pressing himself against her.
Heat flared through her, her core tightening. He pushed open her legs and brought her knees over his hips. The kiss broke, and Arabella gasped as his mouth moved to her neck, kissing and sucking at her sensitive skin. Bursts of pleasure and shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. Grayson's strong arms were around her, and she couldn't remember ever feeling so . . . safe in a man's arms. Like he wasn't looking just for some quick fun. Like this was something else. Something more . . . for both of them.
"Are you okay?" he murmured into her neck, his hands roaming her body. "Is this okay?"
Arabella melted against him. "Yes."
His hands narrowed in on her breasts, and he withdrew slightly. "Bedroom?"
She grinned. "Yours or mine?"
With a chuckle, he picked her up off of the counter again. She kept her legs around his hips, holding herself against his body as he carried her towards her bedroom. He kissed her again and again, almost running into the wall a few times, until they were in her room and the door was shut and she was on the bed and he was laying on top of her. Arabella gasped as the sensations runnin
g through her increased.
Grayson grunted, grinding himself against her through their clothing. Her core tightened, moisture pooling between her legs. She clawed at his shirt, desperate now. A stray thought told her she needed to stay in control, but she violently shoved it away. She was tired of being in control; she was tired of always being distant and cold, of not meaning what she said.
"Arabella," the dragon whispered. "'Beautiful lion.' Did you know that was what your name meant?"
She shook her head. "No. 'Beautiful lion . . . ' That's not me."
"Oh, but it is." Grayson brushed her hair from her face. "You are beautiful, and you're fierce like a lion. Gentle like a lioness with her cubs . . . " He pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, and smiled. "Beautiful."
Arabella tangled her fingers into his hair, smiling at the warmth that accompanied the fire rushing through her. Her lover's kisses moved down her body, working their way to her waist, where he lifted the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms to let him undress her, then lifted her hips so he could remove her pants. He didn't ask about the faded scars on her body, kissing them lightly instead. Arabella then removed his clothing, tracing her hands over the contours of his body while he pushed open her thighs and worked his fingers between her legs.
The heat already building in her took on a new frenzy. She found him with her hand, returning the gift he was giving. The sound of his grunts made her chew her lip, repressing moans. Their free hands met, twining in one another. Grayson met her eyes, and the intensity there took her breath away.
Their movements continued until both were crying out, gasping and grunting with their effort to control themselves. With a cry, Grayson pushed her legs further apart and pushed inside of her. Shockwaves ran down her body and she arched her back, pushing him in deeper. The dragon's eyes glittered as he began to move, starting a steady rhythm that had her calling out with every thrust.
Her hands dug into his shoulders, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He kept his hand between them, increasing her pleasure with every passing moment. Arabella's mind danced wildly, thoughts coming and going, her mouth half-open, breathless.
Grayson's back arched. His head fell back and streams of fire rolled from his mouth. His movement became jerky, and she felt everything inside of her come undone. She bent in half, screaming with pleasure. She only ended when Grayson did, collapsing over her. They panted, their bodies cemented together with sweat.
Arabella's eyes drifted closed as she clung to Grayson. She never wanted this to end. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it would, but didn't understand why it had to. She pressed her face into his skin and inhaled his scent.
All too soon, Grayson rolled off her. He found her hand and twined their fingers together.
"Well," he panted. "That was amazing."
"Yeah." Arabella stretched and groaned as her bones took on a jelly-like quality. "I could just lie here all day."
"Me too." Grayson's free hand drifted down her bare stomach. "It's just too bad that we can't. I don't want the children to find us like this."
"The children. Of course. I'll go shower."
Arabella rolled away and stood. Her legs could barely support her, but she didn't allow herself to go back. Guilt twisted her stomach.
They weren't going to be hurt. Not even Kennedy would hurt two-year-old children. When the twins were taken, all Grayson had to do was withdraw his lawsuits and quit his lobbying. Then they would be restored to him.
They were not going to be hurt.
Chapter Four – Grayson
Grayson finished picking up the toys scattered across the living room and glanced up to where Arabella was reading to the children. Both of them were wedged in firmly beside her, studying the pictures in the book. He couldn't stop himself from smiling as he took in the sight. She looked so natural, so at ease. He really had made the right choice. She was able to easily read the children and give them what they needed.
He knew he probably should have hired a live-in nanny long before, but he had convinced himself that he could do it all – watch after his children and change the world. Life had other plans, though, and once it became clear that Henry's health was deteriorating . . .
But now he had Arabella. She had handled Olivia's tantrum earlier that day with a lot of grace. Even though she had suffered some minor burns – nothing worse than a sunburn – she didn't run away screaming like he expected her to. He had wanted another Shifter for the children's nanny, but Arabella seemed to be the most qualified option. And with good reason, as it turned out.
Grayson joined them, putting Hudson on his lap. His weight made the couch sag toward him, pulling Arabella closer to his side. She shifted slightly, adjusting herself but her warmth remained. Olivia crawled over her to wedge herself between Arabella and Grayson. He kissed the top of her downy head.
Arabella finished the story and smiled at them. Grayson’s heart gave an unexpected flop and he looked away. Her light, floral scent made him want to bury his face into her hair and drink it in, but he couldn’t do that in front of the children.
Still, these feelings that were developing in him when he was around her . . . it was a sign. Christine had been gone for a year. It was time for him to move on and find someone new. Goodness knew there was no lack of Dragon women who would love the chance to be romantically connected with him. He hadn't wanted any of them. It had always felt like a betrayal to Christine to even think about being with another woman. With Arabella, though, everything just fell together. Making love to her just felt right. As much as it still ached to think of Christine, thinking of another woman no longer felt like a betrayal.
"Well, I think it's time to start supper," Arabella said, putting the books aside. "Do you want Daddy to read to you, or do you want to play with watercolors?"
Olivia wiggled away from Grayson instantly. "Water! Water!"
Hudson clapped his hands and pointed at Olivia. "Yup!"
"Okay, then. Daddy, can you set them up to paint while I get the food going?"
Grayson grinned and opened his mouth to comment on her calling him 'daddy,' but a quick glance at the twins told him that it was a bad idea. She must have known what he was thinking, though, because she gave him a quick slap and shook her head, a fetching blush rising up her cheeks.
She hurried to the kitchen while he spread out some newspaper and got the children's watercolor books set out. When they were fully engaged in it, Grayson went to the kitchen. It was an open-concept area, separated by a large island, so they could still see the children.
"Need help?"
"Nope. I'm good." Arabella gave him a quick look. "You know, this is the first time I've seen you in anything other than a suit. It suits you."
Grayson laughed at her pun and shrugged. "I wasn't always rich. I made my billions on the stock market. I've got a good head for numbers and such, but I was away from home a lot. When the mine opened . . . Well, our house was directly upstream from it. It's amazing that the children survived long enough to be born given what happened. Sometimes I think it was Christine's sheer determination to keep them safe that killed her. She suffered a lot more damage than she should have while they escaped without harm."
"Dragons can do that?"
"Our women can. We're not sure exactly how it works. But anyway, since I'm rich now, I might as well actually do something for others, right?"
"Good," Arabella replied, pulling some chicken from the fridge. "You know, when I took this job I thought you were going to be one of those people with a house bigger than you needed with servants to cook and clean and do everything for you. I hate that sort of person. The one who can afford to have caviar every night and then whines about paying taxes."
"I do, too." Grayson leaned against the counter. "That's why I decided I was never going to be like one of those people. That's not to say I don't have caviar every night, but I don't whine about paying taxes."
"Ugh, did you really just do that?" Arabella sho
ok her head. "When I was a kid, I lived in this dingy little place that ought to have been condemned. My parents both worked and they couldn’t afford to pay for somebody to watch after me, so I was on my own. Spent a lot of time playing video . . . " She trailed off and sucked her lips between her teeth. She bent her head and threw the chicken in a frying pan, avoiding eye contact.
Her sudden silence surprised Grayson. He wanted to ask more about what her childhood was like, but it was clear she didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't going to press for her to share something she wasn't comfortable with. They were closer now, but it was a new closeness and he didn't want to jeopardize that.
Olivia and Hudson both got up and wandered away from their paintings. Hudson pointed and grunted and Oliva nodded. They joined hands and tottered from the room, Olivia talking a mile a minute.
"How is your friend Henry doing?" Arabella asked.
"He's doing pretty good right now. Dragons can heal from a lot of things. He was badly poisoned where we used to live, but, with regular treatments and dialysis, things are getting better. His kidney function is improving, which is good."
"Good. I'm glad. It's good that dragons can recover from these sorts of things."
"Partially. I doubt he'll ever have his full strength back."
Arabella glanced at up him. She opened her mouth, then shook her head and went back to her work. She dumped some leftover rice from the previous night in with the chicken and then added some sort of sauce. She then added some carrots and peas, mixing it all together.
Grayson frowned. It smelled good, but visually it left much to be desired. "What are you making?"
"It's a family recipe," she said. "Chicken rice wraps. The kids love it. Here, have a try."
She scooped up a little on her spoon and blew on it before holding it over to him, keeping her free hand beneath it. Before Grayson could assure her that he was sure it was going to be lovely, she pressed it against his mouth. Her fingers brushed his lips and Grayson had the urge to taste them instead of the food. Sparks of electricity passed between them and both of them froze. The heat from the rice wafted over Grayson's face.
