by Jane Jamison
She didn’t know what to say. Or if she should say anything at all.
They continued on, taking a path off the beach and onto a trail meandering through the thick forest. The sounds of the animals soothed her as she drew in the aroma from several blooming flowers. Sunlight filtered through the trees, giving the world an ethereal feeling.
“It won’t be long. Just up the path to the top of the hill,” said Montana.
She hoped so. Worn out and frazzled, she was ready to be where she could relax. The food and hot shower called to her.
And the bed. Don’t forget about the bed.
I wonder if it’s big enough to hold four people.
“There it is.”
She snapped out of her sinfully carnal thought and felt her mouth drop open. “This is your home?”
“Yep. This is our home, sweet home.” Branson’s tone spoke of pride.
The house was more of a mansion than what she would’ve called a home. Yet not as austere. The entire building was a gleaming white with the green forest providing a backdrop around and behind the structure. Three stories rose toward the heavens with wide columns standing watch over the front. Although it could’ve served as any head of state’s residence, it had a modest feeling to it. Like the White House, except more inviting. Still, it was an incredible sight.
“How in the world did you get this built here?” She glanced around to find a fountain off to the side, the sound of the water a distinct accompaniment to the roaring sea below a nearby cliff.
“It wasn’t easy,” answered Anthony. “But anything’s possible once you put your mind to it.”
“Especially when you throw a hell of a lot of money at it,” added Montana.
“It was worth it,” chided Anthony.
“All this is yours? I mean, the house and the entire island? No one else’s?” Only billionaires owned private islands. The men had to be independently wealthy.
“Every inch.” Montana sounded as proud as Branson and Anthony.
“And there’s no one else on the whole island?” Was she really and truly alone with three sexy men on a secluded island? Or was she dreaming? Or, worse, had she died and crossed into a different plane of existence? That at least would make seeing a dragon more likely.
“Follow me. I’ll show you to your room while Anthony fixes you something to eat.” Montana moved his hand to the small of her back and urged her forward.
She felt like a princess walking into her new palace on the arm of her prince. “What’s the name of the island?” Before joining the cruise, she’d studied a few maps, getting herself acquainted with the area in case a passenger had questions.
Anthony pushed the wide, tall doors open and waved her into the foyer. Although she’d expected a massive foyer with a cathedral ceiling that would make her feel out of place, she was mistaken. The cathedral ceiling was there, but due to the many windows on the front of the house, light filled the area, making it more inviting. The rich, warm tone of the hardwood floors drew her farther inside. She took everything in, turning in a circle like a vacationer taking a guided tour.
“We call it Dragon Island.”
Chapter Three
Arielle pivoted toward Montana. “Dragon Island?”
“That’s right,” answered Branson.
“Why Dragon Island?” It was too much of a coincidence to be true. She would’ve sworn the other two men had shot him hard looks. As though he’d said too much.
“Why not?”
“Was there a reason, though?” Surely, there was a reason. Who would name an island after a mythical creature? “Is the island shaped like a dragon? Or maybe islanders who used to live here swore they saw dragons?” She didn’t care that she sounded crazy. She had to know.
“Dragons?” The corners of his mouth drifted upward. “You mean like real, fire-breathing dragons? No. Although there are a lot of stone statues around the island that look somewhat like dragons.”
“There are?” Maybe she was getting somewhere.
“Yeah. There was a race of people who were indigenous to the island a long time ago. You know, back when mankind used to worship all kinds of gods.”
“So you think they might have worshiped a dragon god?”
“I don’t think so.” He must’ve noticed the disappointment on her face. “But who knows? We should really check into that, Montana.”
“I can’t believe you own an entire island but don’t know the history behind all the statues.” She cringed inwardly at how harsh she sounded. “Can I see one sometime?”
Branson motioned toward the stairs. “I’ll be glad to show you around, but I’ll bet you’d rather get that shower, right?”
Anthony started down the wide hallway. Beautiful, yet casual furnishings dotted the long walkway. “I’ll get started with the food, but take as much time in the shower as you want.”
Montana steered her toward the curved staircase that wound upward going to the second story then stretching upward to rise to the third level. “I’m going to put you into one of my favorite rooms. I think you’ll like it. If you don’t, just let me know. We’ve got twenty-four other bedrooms.”
“Twenty-four?” Her gaze dropped to the lush flooring. Were her feet dirty? She’d hate to think she might mar the beauty of the carpet. “If it’s only the three of you here, why so many?” She blushed, realizing how rude she sounded. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“Don’t worry. We put in twenty extra for our visitors. Every so often, we’ll have a clan meeting here.”
She froze, letting Montana go ahead of her. “Twenty? There’s the three of you so who’s the extra bedroom for?” She had to know and didn’t care if she was being nosy.
Montana turned back to her as Branson drew beside. The three of them could’ve stood on one step and still had room.
“For someone special,” answered Branson.
Montana’s smile was anything but mocking. “Yeah. Maybe that someone special is you.”
She couldn’t speak. The air around them thickened as though someone had turned up the heat to its highest level. Who knows how long she might have stood there if Branson hadn’t put his hand on her back and eased her forward?
“Let’s go, sweetheart.” Montana started up the steps with her beside him.
* * * *
Sweetheart.
Arielle pulled the oversized, fluffy bathrobe around her. That was what Montana had called her. First beautiful and now sweetheart. Of course she knew she shouldn’t read anything into it, but it was so damn hard not to. Especially when she remembered how Anthony and Branson had looked at her.
At first, she’d thought that they were just lonely. After all, three men all alone on an island? They had to get lonely, right? Then it hit her. As wealthy as they obviously were, they could have female companionship anytime they wanted. All they had to do was fly to a closer, more populated island and bend their finger. The women would flock to them in droves.
But once more she wondered. How did they contact the charter companies with no phone or Internet? Did they have special couriers who checked in with them every so often?
She would’ve loved to ask, but realized she might be butting in where she wasn’t welcomed.
Keep your mind on your own business.
After all, that was how she’d ended up in trouble in the first place. By sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
The shower had been amazing. Almost as good as sex. With multiple rain showerheads and a stall large enough to hold a small party, she’d luxuriated in the warm water coursing over her black-and-blue body. She’d felt how battered her body was, but it had still been a shock when she’d looked in the mirror over the marbled countertop. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to see her naked anytime soon.
Damn.
She skimmed her hands over her dirty pants and dug out the small bag. What was she going to do about the jewels? Should she tell the men and see wh
at they said to do? She could trust them. At least, she thought she could. They’d treated her with respect and kindness from the first moment they’d met her. In fact, they’d been perfect gentlemen.
Maybe too perfect. Damn.
Mind on your own business.
Maybe if she kept repeating that, she’d stop thinking about them in a carnal way. Yet with the warm shower heating her up, she’d let her imagination take over. She’d closed her eyes, her hand sliding between her legs. Then, once she’d figured out how to aim one of the showerheads lower, she’d let her fantasy run away with her. Thankfully, none of the men had come into the bathroom and seen what she’d been doing.
Damn.
Leaving the spa-like bathroom, she went back into the huge bedroom. Like the foyer and the rooms she’d seen off to the side, the bedroom was decorated simply. Yet even she could tell that the furniture was of the highest quality.
Where can I put the jewels?
She searched around the room, finding one hiding place and then discarding it. At last, she got down on her hands and knees and started searching. Maybe if she put the bag at a low level, they’d be less likely to be found.
She crawled around, looking into small cracks and crevices. Finally, when she was about to give up, her gaze fell on the central heat and air vent. She crawled over to the vent and tried her luck at the screws holding the plate against the wall. Thankfully, the screws weren’t on very tight, and she soon had the vent cover off.
“This is perfect.” Placing the small bag inside, she returned the cover to its position and then twisted the screws as tightly as she could. By the time she was finished, her fingers hurt, but it was all worth it.
“Arielle?”
She startled at Anthony’s voice. “Yes?”
“I’ve got a plate full of sandwiches. You can eat them in your room or you can come downstairs. Whatever you want to do is fine with us.”
They were such nice men. Men who probably would never dream of taking a woman and throwing her on top of the really large bed. A bed that would easily hold four people. Four naked people who were writhing in ecstasy.
Damn.
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll get dressed and come straight down.”
But what could she wear?
“Sounds good. By the way, you can find some new clothes in the closet. Feel free to choose whatever you want.”
“Okay.” They had women’s clothes in the closet? Did they have female guests often? Suddenly, she wasn’t as anxious to get downstairs.
Damn.
* * * *
Montana knew he’d seen her drop something. No human would’ve ever noticed while so far from her, but he’d shifted just enough to bring out his dragon’s sensitive sight. As she’d poured the rest of the jewels into the bag, one had dropped out of her hand.
He bent down and lifted the small blood-red ruby out of the sand.
Holding it up, he knew there was no doubt. It was a real ruby. Now where would a girl working on a cruise ship get a ruby?
She had more jewels, too, if the small bag he’d seen her put inside her pocket was any indication. Which again begged the question of how an employee on a cruise ship would have so many valuable gems in her possession.
He stared at the ruby as though it would give him the answers he needed. How many people could one ruby help?
Having lived over nine hundred years, he and the other two men had gained an incredible amount of wealth. Possessions like the island and their home were important to them, but they gained more from giving to others through foundations and anonymous contributions. Building schools in Third World countries was his passion while investing in deserving students’ higher educational needs was Branson’s love. Like them, Anthony enjoyed pitching in both with his time and his money in developing clean water resources throughout the world.
He didn’t like to think that she might have stolen the jewels, but what other reason could there be for her having them?
“What’d you find?”
He jerked his gaze up to see Anthony and Branson coming toward him. He held up the ruby. “She’s got jewels, all right. We might have a thief on our hands. Unless you two can come up with another reason why she’d have a bag of jewels on her.” He’d told them what he’d seen before coming to the beach.
“Damn.” Branson had a good heart and always believed the best of everyone. “She doesn’t seem like someone who’d steal.”
“We don’t know that she did. Still….” Anthony wasn’t as trusting as Branson. He was more cautious when meeting new people.
Montana pocketed the gem. “I’m with Branson. She just doesn’t seem the type. Besides, if she is a thief, she sure had a shitty escape plan.”
“I’m thinking she didn’t fall overboard.” Anthony started back toward the house. “Maybe her escape plan got fucked up and she got thrown overboard.”
“Or she had to jump.” It gave him a sour taste in his mouth to think she was involved in anything wrong. “This is messed up.”
“Why? Because you feel something for her?”
Branson wasn’t the serious one of the bunch, preferring to keep things lighthearted, but every so often, he showed an insight that unnerved the other two. Montana didn’t have to ask to know that Anthony had also felt some kind of a connection.
“I don’t know,” answered Anthony. “I do know that she’s got an extra something I like. Plus, I have a gut feeling about her. A gut feeling that I haven’t gotten in a long time. Maybe never.”
“What about you, big guy? Did you get a vibe from her?” Branson was back to his usual kidding self. “Did she tickle your fancy? Or straighten your rod?”
Montana hated it when they called him big guy. After all, he was only an inch shorter than Anthony and two inches shorter than Branson’s six-foot-two-inch frame. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Maybe my ass,” joked Branson. “We’ve never experienced an attraction like this to any girl, much less all three of us at the same time. It has to mean something.”
“That we fell in love with a thief? Yeah, that’s great. Just great.”
He hated thinking it might be true. After all these years, centuries, they’d finally found one woman they were all attracted to. But it was more than sexual attraction. When they spoke of feeling something for her, they meant it on an instinctual level. Rather like how some shifters, especially werewolves, could sense their intended mate, but in a less tangible way. As much as he disliked it, whenever they found the woman they wanted to share, they’d have to feel it in their bones, in their gut, and in their hearts. He glanced at the other two and was thankful they weren’t in dragon form. If they had been, they might’ve telepathically heard the sappy way he’d been thinking.
“So what’s the plan, guys?” asked Branson. He scooped up a shell from the beach. “We can’t keep her here forever.”
“Why not?” If she was the right one for them, why not keep her with them? It wasn’t as though it hadn’t been done before.
“Stop thinking that shit, Montana,” warned Anthony. “Dragons don’t do that anymore.”
A long time ago, dragons would kidnap the woman they wanted straight from her village. That was how the tales of dragons attacking villages got started. Not that the three of them had ever burned a village to the ground, but tales had a way of growing, adding elements to the stories that weren’t true. As far as he knew, only a few rogue dragons had taken their mates without the woman’s consent. Screw the knights in shining armor who supposedly slayed the dragon to save the damsel in distress.
“I’m not. At least, not seriously. So answer Branson’s question. What’s the plan? She’s going to want to contact someone soon. If we don’t watch it, we could have her cohorts in crime heading to our island.”
They’d taken great pains to keep their island secluded with only a few maps showing its location. The workers who had built the house had been flown in, their access to where they’d been taken kept secret so that the
y couldn’t tell anyone else where the island was. To have their privacy endangered would be a travesty.
“She can’t contact anyone as long as we don’t let her.” Anthony trudged up the path. “I don’t like lying to her, but until we know what’s going on, keep your phones locked away.”
“And if she has partners in crime and they show up? What then?” Branson tore a branch off a bush as he passed by it.
“Then we handle them however we have to.”
“So you’re ready to mate her even if she is a crook?” Thinking about it wasn’t making him accept the idea any better. If their mate were a thief, they’d have to do their best to get her to change her ways.
“We do whatever we have to do.”
Montana closed his hand around the ruby. If she were a crook, then she’d have to change. Either that or they’d have to give up on her as their mate. Maybe with their vast resources, she’d no longer feel the need to steal. The ruby dug into his flesh as he followed them into the house.
* * * *
“This house just gets better and better.” Arielle skimmed her hand over the silk shirt she’d found in the closet. “One of your girlfriends has great taste in clothes. Not that I could ever afford anything like this, but I’ve been around enough people with money to know quality when I see it.”
They’d given her a tour of the house that had taken almost an hour. Aside from the plentiful bedrooms, the place had a media room and an Olympic-size swimming pool. Now they were on the back veranda, taking a moment to enjoy the sunshine and the English-style garden. Bees and other insects flew around the buds beginning to open. She leaned back in the white rocker and wondered what it would be like to call a place as grand as this one home.
“The clothes don’t belong to any girlfriend.”
It shouldn’t have, but her heart did a quick flip-flop. “Oh. Then one of your sisters or another female relative?” Please let it be a sister. Or an aunt.
“Nope, wrong again.” Branson leaned against the porch railing and swatted at a bee that had decided he was more alluring than the flowers. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we have an assortment of sizes in the closet. They’re there in case anyone needs them.”
