by Mina Carter
Dragon Queens Fake Fiancé
Mina Carter
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Copyright © 2017 by Mina Carter
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Also by Mina Carter
About the Author
Chapter 1
A bird in a gilded cage, that’s all she was.
Dropping onto her favorite couch, Cadeyra, Cadie to those few she called friends, groaned with relief as she kicked her shoes off and wriggled her toes. After a full morning of meetings and appointments, she’d finally managed to snatch a little break for herself, retreating to the small sitting room just off her office and firmly shutting the door against the world and all the pressures it placed on her. And since she was the White Queen, ruling over dragonkind, those pressures were considerable.
Kicking her shoes under the couch, she checked the clock on the wall in the hopes that she had time to take off her bra as well and truly relax. But the clock was a bitch, time marching quickly toward her next appointment, one with her advisors regarding the state visit from the prince of a minor country from Eastern Europe. Cadie sighed and reached for the coffee pot on the small table in front of her.
No escape from the bra, at least for now, which was a good and bad thing. Usually taking the damn thing off was the sign she was done for the day… no sense in confusing her body, not when it already felt like she was running on empty.
Pouring a mug of the dark, aromatic liquid, she sat back and cuddled up in the embrace of the comfy, squishy sofa and wrapped her hands around the warm china. Brain out of gear, her gaze wandered to the large floor-to-ceiling window in front of her. The mid-afternoon sun warmed the carpet in neat squares, the smallest of dust motes—impossible to eradicate in a building as old as the palace was, despite the diligence of the household staff—dancing freely in the air. For a moment she wished she was one of them, able to dance in the warmth and light without worrying about anything.
Lifting the mug, she took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee and closed her eyes in bliss. She lived for moments like this—simple things like a comfortable, old chair and time to herself. Most days she was bustled from place to place, constantly watched with every action scrutinized. At every engagement and appointment, she was only shown the newest and the best. Stiff, uncomfortable chairs that had never been sat on and newly decorated rooms. She’d been an adult before she’d realized that not everywhere smelled of new paint.
Her gaze wandered up as she drank her coffee, savoring the sound of people not talking at her, and looked out the window. The sky was blue and clear. Sudden longing hit her. All she wanted to do was walk over, push the window open and fly. Escape the demands of the crown, if only for a little while.
Closing her eyes, she smiled. She could already feel the wind under her wings and across her scales. Buried deep within, her dragon stirred, trumpeting its pleasure at the idea of a flight. It uncoiled enough to push scales against the inside of her skin, ready to break through if she gave the slightest hint that ditching her afternoon’s appointments, including the meeting with her advisors, was in the cards.
For a moment she stayed perfectly still, temptation beating at her. It would be so easy… And when was the last time she flew? It was a few months ago, for sure, in the spring sometime. Her eyes snapped open. Had it really been that long?
A sound outside the door snapped her back to reality. Sending a quick reassurance to her dragon that they would fly again, and soon, she focused her attention on the door as it was pushed open after a short, firm knock. The figure that walked through the door had her breath catching in her throat for a moment before she locked the reaction down.
Sawyer Stone.
Black dragon and one of the feared Council of Twelve, who both policed and kept their kind safe from feral dragons and wyverns, he wasn’t just dangerous, he wore his lethality like a mantle. Tall, broad shouldered and heavily muscled with close-cut dirty blond hair, his craggy good looks had had most of the women at court twittering over him at one time or another. He wasn’t a pretty boy like some of the blacks, but the aura of power that clung to him like a fine cologne more than made up for it. At least in Cadie’s book it did.
Keeping a neutral expression, she leaned forward and put her mug down before the tiny shake in her hands gave her away. If royal white dragons had a weakness, if she had a weakness, then Sawyer was it. He’d arrived at court a few years ago, and instantly she’d been smitten. What girl wouldn’t have been? He was a former soldier, a general no less, and a war hero to boot. Queen she might be, but that didn’t make her any less of a woman.
She’d hidden her attraction though, acting the brat around him and the rest of the blacks sometimes. Anything to hide her feelings for the tall, handsome black dragon.
“Pulled the short straw again, Sawyer?” she asked with a smile, a little joke to hide her nervousness around him as she rose to her feet. The Council of Twelve always assigned her one of their number as a bodyguard, which, since his arrival, had been Sawyer. Occasionally they would assign the lone female among them, Adra, to her… but that was rare and usually when Sawyer was out of town.
He shrugged, walking toward her. Heat hit her, everything female within her taking notice of the way he moved, the controlled slide of powerful muscles under the skin of his big frame as he came to stand before her. She hid her hands behind her back. The nerves were new, the heat was not, but it had increased by a hundredfold since Sawyer kissed her a few weeks ago.
And it had been a scorcher—hot enough to ignite the slumbering fires of attraction within her as he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her breathless right in front of half the council.
Then… nothing.
He hadn’t mentioned the kiss since, or given any other indication anything between them had changed. Hell, to look at him now, with his polite expression, she might as well not exist as a female. She’d already figured he’d only kissed her to take the heat off her cousin, Calan, when he’d arrived with his mate, Saskia. She’d been so excited that one of them had found their mate, she’d wanted to talk to the other woman, find out all about her… without realizing right away that she was being pushy. Rather than point it out to her quietly, he’d distracted her to allow the new lovers to get away.
Then he dropped Cadie like a hot cake.
Pride still hurt, she lifted her head a little. Perhaps she wasn’t his type? Some men were attracted to her because she was queen, but perhaps he was too much of an alpha male for that? Her mood took a nosedive. Perhaps he didn’t want a relationship where the woman was more powerful than he was? Because, for all the blacks were feared and dangerous, she was a white… and the most powerful of them all.
“The advisors are ready for you,” he said, flicking a glance over her. Somehow, his gaze found her bare feet and instantly she tried to curl her toes under to hide them. He always made her feel tiny, looming over her as he did, but bare feet… that was personal. Like she was practically naked.
“Better not keep them waiting then. Just give me a moment.” Heat hitting her cheeks, she parked her ass on the chair and rooted under the sofa for her shoes only to be stopped by
a big hand.
“Let me,” Sawyer rumbled, on his knees in front of her as he retrieved her court shoes from their hiding place. “Wouldn’t want you to be late.”
What the fuck was he doing?
Sawyer ignored the little warning voices in the back of his mind as he knelt before the tiny curvy little woman who had haunted his dreams for years. She was his queen and he was just a soldier, but he couldn’t get the memory of how she’d felt in his arms or the feel of her lips parting in submission under his out of his head. It was a one off thing, he’d told himself, and never to be repeated. A diversion tactic to allow Calan, her cousin, to escape and get time alone with his new little mate without Cadeyra grilling the woman and scaring her to death.
He located one of the pumps under the chair and snagged it, reaching out with his other hand to capture Cadeyra’s ankle. It was the first time he’d touched her since they’d kissed, and the feel of her silken skin under his fingertips sent a shiver down his spine that looped around and tightened his balls.
She was so tiny and delicate. Her narrow ankle was all but lost in his grip. She was a dragon, yes, and a white… which meant, while not bigger than he was, she was way more powerful, imbued with more magic than any other dragon alive. The only white on the planet, not even other, minor royal lines had whites on the throne but dragons of pastel hues instead.
But her power made no difference here. Her breathing caught as he slipped the shoe on her foot and reached for the other one in silence. He wasn’t worthy of her, not a rough mutt like he was, born and raised on the tough city streets and then shunted into the army before he could land himself in jail… but here he was, despite all that, tormenting himself with dreams of what he couldn’t have.
Locating the other shoe, he slipped it on and rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help the pixie-like queen to hers. She flicked a glance up to his hand, and it felt like an age before she slid her fingers into it. Her touch was soft and delicate, a small smile curving her lips as she rose gracefully to her feet.
The heels were high enough that he’d always wondered how the hell she walked in them, but it made no difference. She was so petite that he still towered over her. He broke their grip before he could lose it and pull her into his arms again, but the smile faded with a hurt look that speared him to the core. He kept his expression blank. If she knew the erotic fantasies about her, about them, that swirled through his head, he’d be done for.
“Thank you.” Her voice was clipped as she bent down to reach for the file of papers on the table, and Sawyer found himself fascinated by the stray curls that had come loose from the neat updo. They lay against her nape, just over the collar of her white shirt, and he itched to brush them away… to kiss the delicate skin at the side of her neck. Before he could do anything stupid, she straightened up and offered him a forced smile.
As soon as he saw it, he felt like a shit. She was hurt and trying hard not to show it. He doubted anyone else, even her cousin Calan, would have noticed it, but he was so in tune with everything about her that he picked up even the tiniest clues. It didn’t matter how quickly she shuttered her expression, he still caught it.
His dragon stomped and snorted, agitated by her distress and demanding to be let out to make it all better. To make their mate not mad at them anymore. The need to sit down on the sofa and have her snuggle into him the way she’d been on the sofa when he’d walked in gripped him. That was the part he loved most about being her bodyguard… seeing her with her guard down. The fact that the feared and revered Cadeyra the White, most noble of queens, was a total cuddlebug when in private. And he wanted her cuddled up to him. Craved it more than he craved air to breathe.
Grimly, he held on to the control that had served him well in the military, where he couldn’t loose his dragon despite any and all provocation. Far from making anything better, letting his dragon out here, in the middle of the palace with everything he hadn’t told Cadeyra would just fuck the situation up beyond all recognition.
She was his mate. He’d known that from the moment he’d laid eyes on her his first day at court. It had been the day he’d finally succeeded his mentor, taking Micah’s place on the Council of Twelve on the old dragon’s death. Micah had lasted longer than most. Life as a black wasn’t a safe one and even less so for one of the twelve. They were the dragons responsible for maintaining law and order amongst their kind and protecting the monarch. But all life eventually came to an end, and so Sawyer had been forced to bury his mentor, a man who had been the father he’d never had, and succeed him in the same day.
Then, as if the fates hadn’t put him through the wringer enough, he’d stood in front of the white queen to swear loyalty to her, only to find out the diminutive, delicate little monarch was his mate.
Elation had quickly been followed by agony when her expression didn’t alter to reflect the joy that had surged through him the instant he’d recognized what she was. Within a heartbeat he’d realized she didn’t feel the mate link. Not for him. Not then and not in the three years that had followed. She was his mate but he’d never had the slightest hint from her that he was hers. It was pure and utter torture. Only his military training and an iron strength of will had kept him from going mad. So… a neutral face to her teasing was the best he could do to avoid opening Pandora’s box.
But that kiss… it haunted his dreams, leaving him hard and aching when he woke from them. The memory of her in his arms had morphed into dreams of her under him in his bed, her silver-blonde hair a halo around her head on his pillow or as soft as silk as he ran his big hands through it.
“Shall we?” Her terse voice brought him back to the present as she tucked her files under her arm and preceded him from the room. He hurried to catch up with her although his rapid pace wasn’t so fast that he passed up the opportunity to admire her ass in the fitted slacks she wore.
Even dressed in business attire, a fitted shirt and pants teamed with heeled courts and her distinctive hair piled up out of the way, there was no mistaking her regal bearing. Just as there was no mistaking the light of intelligence in his little Cadie’s golden eyes or the iron will that matched it.
As Sawyer had discovered as soon as he’d met her, and many a courtier had discovered to their dismay, Cadeyra the White was no mere figurehead monarch. She was queen in the truest sense of the word, right down to the battle armor hung in pride of place in the palace armory. He’d never seen her wear it, but he knew Micah had trained her to fight in both human and dragon form.
The idea of her fighting filled him with both fear and curiosity. Fear because the idea of her getting so much as a paper cut brought out the protective side of his nature and made him want to carry her off to his “lair” and keep her safe from everything. And curiosity because very few dragons alive had seen a white on the battlefield. It was supposed to be an awe-inspiring sight. That thought quickly morphed into a second… that of them sparring together and him taking her down to the mats, pinning her beneath him. Leaning down to brush his lips over hers…
Chapter 2
A discreet cough brought him back to the present for the second time, and he realized they were standing outside the queen’s council chambers. Cadeyra watched him with a quizzical look in her eyes.
“Are you sure you feel okay, General?”
Shit. She’d used his rank, the equivalent of his mother using his full name when he’d done something wrong. Which meant he was seriously in trouble.
“I’m perfectly fine, Your Majesty.” He gave her a neutral face to look at. There was no way she needed to get even a hint of what was going on in his head. As a black and one of the twelve, she couldn’t relieve him of his position but she could assign him away from the court and from her presence. He didn’t want that. Couldn’t afford that. Being near her was the only thing keeping him sane. Just about…
Getting himself together, he stepped forward and pushed open the doors in front of them. Cadeyra hung back, as he’d drilled into h
er. Even though they were deep inside the palace he never took chances with her safety. He’d spent way too long in the military before being called to service at court to let his guard down.
All of his senses on alert, he pulled his dragon up to just under his skin and stepped into the chamber beyond. Scanning the room and its occupants, he took note of each person, their placement and body language at the same time he used his dragon’s excellent sense of smell to filter all the scents in the room. He noted everything, no clue or lingering trace scent unstudied… like the fact that one of the advisors at the back had eaten lasagna the night before, or that Garrick Mahan sitting next to Calan, Duke of Vacossin, wore perfume that was definitely not his wife’s.
Sawyer caught the duke’s gaze. Calan, a black and also Cadeyra’s cousin, nodded slightly. The small quirk of his lips told Sawyer that he’d clocked the perfume as well. Although all the occupants were weredragons, only blacks had the precise sense of smell that could pick up such tiny trace scents. It was what made them such lethal hunters. The presence of the other black allowed Sawyer to relax a little. Between the two of them, they could deal with any threat to their queen, and there was no one Sawyer would rather have at his back in a fight—as a human or a dragon.
Satisfied the room was secure, he stepped to the side to allow Cadeyra to enter. Everyone in the room rose to their feet as she swept in, back straight and head held high… every inch the queen.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” she inclined her head in greeting.
Taking her place at the head of the table, she sat quickly, allowing everyone else to resume their seats, and took a while to organize her papers. It might have looked like she was disorganized, but he’d seen her use this tactic many times before to allow others time to get settled and collect themselves before the meeting started.
