Adored by A Dragon: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 4)

by Isadora Montrose

  He licked her ear and chuckled. “We’ll see.” He raised her until he had almost left her clutching vag, before lowering her again. His powerful arms set the perfect rhythm. A cadence perfected by a lifetime. His marble-hard torso and thighs were slick. Sweat defined each muscle. His scent ramped up her already fierce excitement.

  Without warning her climax exploded. He came simultaneously, flooding her core. She floated on the waves of pleasure, each sparkling ripple meeting his and merging. Fireworks lit the day. Celestial music played. Or maybe that was her dragon bellowing his release.

  “I love you,” they cried together.

  She came back to herself straddling his lap, her naked breasts pressed against his rock-hard pecs. His arms were around her, holding her close, keeping her safe. This too she remembered. The delicious after quakes and the peacefulness that followed their lovemaking.

  “We should get back. I only have the rental for four hours.” His voice was regretful.

  She restored their clothes equally regretfully.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Daniel~

  With every minute on the water, he could see the harmony and connection between them diminishing. Oh, his Angie had her face turned up to the sun and a smile on her pretty lips, but he knew his woman. She was drifting away from him again, just as if their afternoon of courtship was being blown away by the wind.

  “I’ll have to charge you double,” the proprietor of the sailboat rental informed him, shoulders squared, jaw clenched. “I had a reservation for The Seagull, and had to send my customers off with the competition.”

  “We were delayed,” he said.

  The proprietor lost color and took a step backward. What now? Daniel had not intended to be aggressive.

  “You’re certainly owed a late fee, Nate,” Angie said sweetly. “We exceeded our reserved time. I’m sorry about those other people.”

  “My wife is right,” Daniel said briskly. “Our apologies. Do you need my credit card again, or can you just add it on?”

  “I can add it.” Nate’s healthy color returned.

  “May we reserve it for tomorrow?” Daniel asked. “For six hours, since four was inadequate this afternoon?”

  “Sure. Sure. That late fee is nothing personal. Just business.”

  “Good business.” Angie smiled conciliatingly. “We understand. Don’t we, Daniel?” She stepped on his foot.

  “Certainly.”

  “I’m ready for a nap,” Angie murmured. “You better take me home.”

  “To Hyacinth?” he asked hopefully.

  She accepted his arm with a regretful smile. “To the inn. We haven’t resolved all our issues, Daniel. We can’t paper over the cracks with lovemaking,” she whispered.

  “All right. What about dinner? Will you eat with your husband?”

  “Don’t you have to leave tonight? I thought you were due back in Sweden?”

  Daniel’s ire returned. “I spoke to the Eldest this morning. He extended my leave.”

  “Did he?”

  “I have orders to repair my marriage,” he groused. The Eldest had been coldly displeased to discover that he and Angelina were estranged. He was not to return to Sweden until matters were mended between them.

  “Is that what our interlude was all about?” She looked ready to weep. “The Eldest?”

  “Of course not. Grandfather is just concerned that we are going to disgrace the family.”

  “Disgrace?”

  “Imagine my surprise when I discovered our baby is general knowledge among my family,” he responded. He heard the stiffness in his voice. The hurt. “And that everyone knows you have left me.”

  Angie patted his arm. “I had a celebration planned to announce our child to you. Too bad you stood me up. Again. Naturally, I spoke to your mother before I left. I told her then. And of course when I declined my invitation to the Chateau, I told Grandmamma. I certainly didn’t ask either one to keep it a secret.”

  “Well, Grandfather is concerned that I will be the first Lindorm to lose his wife and fireling in one fell swoop.”

  Her hand tightened on his forearm. “Of course he is. Think how it bad it will look to the rest of Dragonry. How it will reflect on all Lindorms.”

  “Think how it will affect the marriage prospects of this year’s bachelors.” Three of his nephews had made a formal declaration of their mate hunts before the Council of the Guild of Dragons. His grandmother’s annual house party was timed so they could meet potential brides.

  “Money speaks loudly,” she said dismissively. “And Lindorms are pretty much made of money.”

  “Is that why you married me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then do not malign those virgins who are looking our boys over. Like you, they are seeking not wealthy husbands, but true-hearted dragons who will love them forever. We Lindorms have a right to be proud of our reputation for probity, honor, and loyalty.”

  She literally did an eye roll. As if she were one of those seventeen-year-old maidens, unimpressed by his stiff assurances. “Yes. Yes,” she said dismissively. “I know. You guys are stuffed to the eyebrows with all the nobler virtues. Unfortunately your virtues have become too much of a good thing, Daniel. At least for me.”

  “My feelings have not altered, Angelina.” He knew he sounded austere and old-fashioned. But it was not his nature to confess his deepest feelings on a crowded sidewalk.

  “It’s not our love that is the problem, Daniel. I do love you. And I believe you love me. It’s just that I cannot go back to being a tiny fraction of your life. I want a new marriage. A fresh start. And I think West Haven is the right place for both.”

  “That isn’t possible.” He could feel his chest both swell and tighten. His entire career was premised on living in Sweden. Who ever heard of a part-time admiral? “You are being unreasonable.”

  She pinched his arm. Hard. “Lower your voice, Daniel. I will not quarrel with you in public.”

  They walked the rest of the short distance to the inn in silence. Not the comfortable silence they had enjoyed on the boat, but a tense coldness that made his stomach burn. Angie seemed to droop. Sadness or fatigue? Pregnant women tired more easily and between the stressful swim and the vigorous sex, she might have overdone things.

  “Robin is in her office,” the cheerful young woman at the front desk told them. “I’ll tell her you’ve gone upstairs.”

  “You might as well come up with me, Daniel,” Angie said ungraciously. “I won’t sleep until we’ve had our fight.”

  He followed her up the narrow, dark, winding stairs. “I’m surprised the owner has such a dangerous staircase.”

  “They are the old servants’ stairs.” Angie grinned impishly at him. “In the nineteenth century, everyone knew that domestic servants could see in the dark and had great balance. Just imagine carrying heavy buckets of water and loaded trays up and down.”

  He could not return her smile. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I would prefer it if my dragoness did not go running up and down it at all. Think of the risk to our baby.”

  “I’ll be fine. And I won’t run.”

  “Except from me!”

  “It got your attention!”

  “Am I then so hard to speak to?”

  “You’re barely ever home, and when you are, half the time you are on the phone to command or your grandfather. It seems we never talk anymore.”

  “Neither my grandfather nor my father are getting any younger. Family affairs are my responsibility.”

  She flung herself pettishly onto a spindly settee. “Your father and grandfather have a great many sword bearers more than willing to do their share. It’s true that they rely on you, but at the expense of your cousins and nephews. Maybe it is time you and your Uncle Hammond stepped aside and let younger Lindorms take a turn at being heroic.”

  “May I?” He waved a hand at the other chairs. The entire room was furnished in the frailest of Victorian antiques. As a
dragon he could detect that these were real antiques and not reproductions. Made of finely carved hardwoods. With genuine silk upholstery. And every piece more ornate and fussy and delicate than the next.

  “Try that blue one. Robin created it for her partner.”

  He settled himself in Sullivan’s chair. It looked almost as fragile as the settee Angie was now reclining against, but it did not wobble and it was surprisingly comfortable. “I’m not ready to spend my days in idleness.”

  “Idleness? With a newborn in the house? Not hardly. You could have hobbies. West Haven has a shipbuilding firm that would make you a racing yacht. Or you could teach scuba diving.”

  “Sailing, scuba diving, and sleeping in the sun, while the Guild of Dragons is attacked at every turn?” he protested.

  “Vladimir the Enforcer is dead*,” she responded. “I need you more. And so does our child.”

  “When you cut the head off a hydra, seven more appear,” he said gloomily. “If it isn’t the Russian mafia, it will be something else.”

  “My argument still stands. The Eldest delegates. So does your father. It is time you did the same.” Her eyes remained shut.

  “Are you going to sleep all doubled up like that?”

  “I was thinking of it.” Her voice slurred.

  He scooped her off the little sofa. “Which is your room?”

  “Second door on the left.”

  Daniel elbowed the door open.

  “Model ships,” she said sleepily into his chest.

  “What?” he asked indulgently.

  He laid her gently on the bed and covered her with the quilt he found on a chair. “Thank you.” She couldn’t open her eyes. “You used to make model ships when you were a boy.”

  “So I did.” He still had his collection. Organized from the coracles of the earliest Northmen, through their longships, right through to the enormous ships of the steam and diesel ages. It was his sole concession to his innate desire to hoard. Not that he had added to it in years. Or built any. But in his youth, he had been quite an expert.

  “You should go to the museum,” she murmured. “They have a fine collection.”

  He waited but his wife was fast asleep. He tiptoed down that narrow stairway.

  *Dragon’s Possession

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Daniel~

  How could Angie believe their marriage was over, want to live apart from him, when she obviously walked in and out of his mind? She had brought up his love of model ships to give him occupation while she slept.

  He wouldn’t have minded sharing her bed, but neither of them would have napped much, if at all. The activities which had made her sleepy had invigorated him. He was restless and dreading the hours until he could take her to dinner.

  Main Street was still bustling. If anything it was even busier. The little rabbit shifter sheriff was working his way methodically down a line of illegally parked vehicles issuing tickets. A deputy was doing the same on the other side of the road.

  “Afternoon, Admiral.” Babcock paused in his endeavors. “How’s it going?”

  “Good afternoon, Sheriff.” Daniel leaned over the smaller man to speak in his ear. “Isn’t that a waste of time? I mean, those tourists will just drive off on the ferry and ignore their fines.”

  “Not if they want to leave Mystic Bay, they won’t.” Babcock’s grin revealed buck teeth. “No off-islander with an outstanding ticket is allowed on the ferry.”

  “Oh?”

  “All ferry embarkments are supervised by a deputy,” Babcock said ingeniously.

  “Clever.”

  “We have signs up encouraging folks to park in the lots. There’s only one-hour parking on Main Street and that’s posted too.” Babcock moved down to the next car, inspected the chalk mark on its rear wheel and began to scrawl on his yellow pad.

  Daniel tagged along. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. “Good income stream?” he asked politely.

  “Indeed. But all these vehicles are obstructing the fire lanes and EMS. If they want to break my bylaws, there’s a price to pay,” Babcock said sternly. “So, what did you and the missus think of the Spicer house?”

  Belatedly Daniel recalled that Melissa was the sheriff’s wife. “It’s quite something,” he said cautiously.

  “Too exposed, if you ask me,” Babcock gave a mock shudder.

  Its exposure was exactly what Daniel liked about it. “Needs a lot of work,” he hedged. “And it has bad energy.”

  “Yeah. Melissa was thinking of a cleansing ceremony,” Babcock said. “I dunno. It would take some powerful juju to get rid of those Spicers. They are sorcerers, you know. And not above using black magic.”

  “That explains the vibe.”

  Babcock tucked another ticket under a windshield wiper. “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” he muttered.

  Daniel did not think the sheriff meant the errant driver. “Are you trying to make a point?” he inquired softly.

  The sheriff held up a hand as a thickset man dressed in plaid shorts rushed up to the late model SUV he had just ticketed.

  “I’ve only been here half an hour,” Plaid Shorts cried.

  “Two hours and twenty minutes,” Babcock returned. His entire demeanor changed. He gazed up at Plaid Short’s angry face and his voice became harder and flatter. “You can pay your fine to me, at the police station, or to the deputy who will be supervising the ferry departures.”

  Daniel was not surprised when, despite his grumbling, Plaid Shorts yanked out a wallet and extracted bills. The little rabbit had an air of authority belied by his slight stature.

  Babcock wrote Plaid Shorts a receipt and clipped his ticket with one of the many devices dangling from his belt. “Thank you, sir. There is plenty of parking in the lot down by the dock.”

  Plaid Shorts drove away. Babcock shook his head at the car ready to back into the space, and waved his ticket pad at the driver. “Can’t talk right now. I have work to do,” he informed Daniel. “But you bear in mind that it takes good magic to drive out evil.”

  There was nothing to do but move on and wonder what, if anything, the rabbit was implying.

  The bunny was correct about one thing. Nothing was so far away in Mystic Bay that driving was necessary. Out of town was different, but most folks weren’t going that far.

  The Archibald Drake Memorial Maritime Museum was only a few brisk strides down the street. Daniel wandered into the building and paid his admission. In every room, throngs of tourists were exclaiming over the artifacts.

  Fortunately he had a plain view over their heads. He consulted his map, did a quick once-over of the Native American gallery before heading to the basement where the model ships were housed. The wood and glass cases were full and skillfully lit. The collection spanned several centuries. Some had been made by sailors, others created by shipwrights to sell their work. All were fascinating to a man of the sea.

  Small children ran excitedly back and forth. A uniformed security guard told them firmly not to touch the glass cases. But the dioramas with their miniature people and sea mammals were too tempting. Smudges dotted the glass on those displays. Daniel clasped his hands behind his back and conducted his own survey.

  He took his time. For once he had nothing else to do. He was patient. How not? Dragons were natural predators. And a lifetime in the navy had honed his ability to endure tedium. Operations usually consisted of long stretches of watchful waiting and twiddling one’s thumbs, followed by short spurts of intense activity. Which wasn’t much different from hunting.

  Not that there was anything tedious about ships. He began again with the big modern naval destroyers intending to work backward in time. These scale models were accurate to the minutest degree. But because they had been made by the ship builders for the defense force buyers, they did not have the folksy charm of the sailor-made ones. Just the same, he found their miniature hatches and torpedo ports utterly absorbing.

  “Excuse me, Admiral,” the secu
rity guard touched his arm. “Could you please come with me?”

  Although the fellow had spoken softly, heads turned. Daniel nodded. “Certainly.” He followed the man, sniffing. Not a shifter. But there was something non-mortal in his scent that Daniel could not immediately place.

  The security guard spoke into his radio. “He’s on his way up, sir.” He led Daniel to the elevator and turned keys in the elevator car. “Third floor. Mr. Benoit will be waiting for you, sir.”

  A burly man as tall as Daniel met him on the third floor. He was dressed casually in khaki shorts, a short-sleeved button front shirt, and sandals. His left calf terminated in a silicone prosthesis that left the metal rod which replaced his ankle joint exposed. His dark hair as close cropped as Daniel’s own.

  He held out a huge hand. “Welcome, Admiral. I’m the director of security, Anton Benoit.”

  Daniel shook hands, and identified the man as an American black bear. His posture and attitude screamed military veteran. “How do you do? Why am I here?”

  “Come along to my office,” Benoit said genially. “And I’ll tell you.”

  It was a corner office with a view of Main Street on one side and the ocean on the other. It was simply furnished, except for the wall-to-wall bank of monitors to the side of the desk. Benoit had a massive office chair, but he sat down in one of the armchairs facing his desk and waved Daniel to the other. So this was a friendly chat.

  “Why am I here?” Daniel asked again.

  “Mystic Bay is a small place.” The bear grinned at him. “Word gets around. I’m creating the town’s first search and rescue squad from scratch. I figured you would be a great addition to our volunteer force. Frankly your background would be an asset. Most of my people are raring to go, but have more enthusiasm than skill. A veteran of Special Ops would give us some much-needed expertise. And another dragon would fill out our air patrol nicely.”

  “What’s your own background?” Daniel asked.

  “United States Marine Core. Joint Special Forces, sir,” Benoit returned. He waggled his left foot. “I’m no good in the water any more. Too clumsy without the prosthesis. And it can be submerged. We have the mer-patrol, but for those occasions when only humans will do, we need someone who has been trained to search systematically. And who can scuba dive.”