by Lolita Lopez
“There’s no way you have the kind of cash on hand these people wanted, Stig. You were a marine just like Hector. I’m sure your furniture business does well, but there’s no way you’re pulling in those kinds of profits.”
Of course, Stig thought with some sadness. Cora had no idea what kind of wealth he’d amassed over the centuries. To her, he was nothing more than a former marine and woodworker. She had no way of knowing the truth—that he was an immortal dragon. During his lifetime, he’d bought and sold property, invested in new technologies and pharmaceuticals and more. He wasn’t as wealthy as, say, Ignatius or Reynard, but his bank account showed a very healthy balance.
“I would have found a way, Cora.” He should let it go but he couldn’t. He fumed over the situation she’d gotten herself into because she’d been too proud—and silly—to ask for help.
“I know,” she whispered. “I just didn’t want to involve you in something so ugly.”
“I would have gladly mired myself in it. You’re very important to me, Cora.”
Her head snapped up at that revelation. Their gazes locked across the table. Stig couldn’t believe he’d said that aloud, yet he had no urge to take it back. It was the truth, plain and simple. Cora meant a great deal to him.
Other than the handful of marines he still kept in touch with via e-mail or phone, Cora was his last connection to humanity. She was something sweet and sassy and beautiful he wanted to protect. Her genuine love of life kept him tethered to reality. It would be so easy to shut himself away in his isolated fortress and live as many of his Brothers preferred: in solitude. Embracing the loner lifestyle had proven useful over the years. It kept him safe and his life free from complications. It allowed him to keep his mind on his duty and on protecting the dragon community from the Knights who wanted them extinct.
For Stig, it had always been easy to separate himself from the outside world. He liked living alone in the middle of nowhere.
Until Cora.
Sitting here in his kitchen, sharing a home-cooked breakfast, made him painfully aware of all the simple pleasures he’d been missing. There was something alluring about the idea of coming down to a kitchen filled with the smells of breakfast cooked by the woman sharing his life. He hadn’t realized just how lonely his solitary lifestyle was until then.
But those types of ideas were dangerous. Cora wasn’t the girl for him. The rules of the Brotherhood of the Green Hide were painfully clear. Other dragons in the general population might stray across species lines but it wasn’t allowed among the Brothers. The very act that had made the Brotherhood necessary and that had put the Knights of St. George on the hunt for them had been caused by a human woman and a dragon. It simply wasn’t done.
Even if Stig’s blood oath to the Brotherhood hadn’t stood in his way, Cora belonged to another world and deserved things he could never give her. To protect her from the danger that always surrounded him, he should send her away. His dragon was already sniffing around and trespassing into her dreams. It was only going to get worse.
Unfortunately, a very real threat to her existed outside the safety of his home. Until it was sorted out, he had to keep her close.
“You can stay until we sort this out.” Stig rose quickly and cleaned off his plate. “You’ll be safe here.”
Cora stood and caught his hand as he turned to leave. Her touch branded him and sent electric arcs up his arm and across his chest. His breath arrested in his lungs as Cora slid her arms around him and hugged him. Stig didn’t know what to do. His arms dangled uselessly at his sides. Her curvaceous body pressed against him in all the wrong—and right—places. He could so easily cup her cheek and tilt back her head, finally claim that pink pout for his own.
Arms still around his waist, Cora smiled up at him. “Thank you, Stig.”
“Anything for Hector’s sister.” He quickly pecked her forehead and stepped back. “I’ll be in the shop if you need me.”
Lips on fire and pulse sprinting, Stig spun on his heel and left the house. He had to get away from her before he made a colossal mistake.
* * *
Anything for Hector’s sister. The words echoed in her mind, rubbing a raw spot as they bounced around. She gulped back her disappointment and started to clean up the kitchen. For a second there, Cora had been sure Stig was debating whether or not to kiss her. She’d heard the uptick in his heartbeat as she’d hugged him. There was no mistaking his body’s response to her closeness. He wanted her.
But he was afraid. She’d sensed that clearly. Of what, she couldn’t say. There was some line he wasn’t prepared to cross. Cora’s mischievous side wondered what it would take to get him to throw caution to the wind and take the leap. She supposed a little aggressiveness on her part might work.
Was that a good strategy? Probably not, she admitted. Stig didn’t seem like the type to be led into anything he didn’t want. He was principled like that. She mentally crossed off any plans to strut naked around the house or display any sort of seductive behavior. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate or annoy him. She needed to stay in Stig’s good graces. He was the only thing between her, the streets, and some very bad men.
Disappointment seemed to be Cora’s default setting as of late.
She cleaned up the kitchen and headed upstairs to change out of her pajamas. A pair of jeans and a simple yellow tank top were the first things she spotted when she opened her suitcase. Once dressed, Cora found her laptop and cell phone and moved downstairs. A comfy brown leather couch in the living room called to her. She nabbed the corner seat, stretched out her legs, and started making phone calls and typing notes.
The detective in charge of her case gave her an update. There were no leads on the arson at the bakery, nor were there likely to be any in the future. None of the witnesses were talking.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
“I’d rather not say.” Cora didn’t want to risk anyone finding out where she was. The kind of people who would burn down her bakery were the kind of people who probably had someone on the inside. “You can reach me on my cell.”
“Sure.”
The call ended and Cora returned a message from her insurance agent. There was some question as to whether the policy would pay for the total loss since Cora had technically been engaged in illegal activities, albeit under duress. That piece of information left her even angrier at herself. What the hell had she been thinking? Why hadn’t she been braver and told those punks to go to hell? Why hadn’t she been smarter and reported their sorry asses to the police?
But what was done was done and there was no changing it. She’d made her bed. At least she’d be able to start over in a new city. Where or how she’d build her new bakery, she had no idea. She’d find the right place eventually. She had to because the thought of never again waking up early to knead dough or decorate cupcakes or mix up some of her grandmother’s famous pastries was unimaginable. Baking was in her blood.
Her business dealt with, Cora called and texted a few friends to let them know she was okay. She hedged on the location with them as well. She couldn’t be too careful.
With her to-do list complete, Cora set aside her phone and laptop and wondered how to spend the rest of her day. Used to the hustle and bustle of the bakery, she found the house incredibly quiet, almost unnervingly so. How could Stig bear the solitude? Perhaps he found the animal residents of the surrounding woods company enough. The thought of said animals goosed her memory. She eyed the kitchen and shoved off the couch. Last night, she’d heard something odd down in his basement. She’d meant to tell Stig about it but he’d left in such a hurry. The thought of bothering him now wasn’t all that appealing. His abrupt departure had made it fairly clear he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat.
Cora stood in front of the forbidden door. There could be something down there, something hurt and in need of help. Curiosity triumphed over sense and Cora twisted the handle. The unlocked door creaked ominously as she drew it
open and stepped through the doorway. Steps led down into darkness. She cautiously felt the wall on either side of the staircase but detected no light switch.
She retreated from the darkness into the safety of the kitchen and located a flashlight in one of the drawers. She flicked it on and carefully descended the stairs. Moist, pungent air engulfed her. She listened intently for any noises but heard only the faint drip of water. A plumbing leak?
The light beam bounced side to side. She expected to see a basement of some kind, four walls and shelves, but there was nothing. As far as she could tell, there was only the stairwell leading down to a cement floor.
Her internal alarm clanged loudly. This wasn’t right. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her worst fears were realized. The staircase dead-ended at a large metal door with a keypad.
Cora’s blood went cold. This wasn’t a basement. This was a holding cell.
As if the fires of hell nipped at her heels, she rushed up the steps. Panting and shaking, Cora slammed the basement door. She dropped the flashlight back in the drawer and ran back into the living room where she promptly flopped down on the sofa and tried to reconcile what she’d seen.
What was Stig keeping down in that basement? Was it something illegal? He obviously didn’t want anyone to know about it. Oh God! What if he found out she’d been down there?
“Calm down.” Cora spoke sternly to calm her nerves. Stig was a standup guy. He’d been a marine, for crying out loud. Surely there was some other explanation for what she’d uncovered. It was likely to be simple and not in the least bit sinister.
Of course, she couldn’t ask him because he’d pretty much forbidden her to go down there. What was that saying about curiosity and cats?
Her gaze fell on the limestone mantel. There were pictures of Stig with similarly burly men she’d never met. Framed photos of Stig and Hector and other marines took center stage. They’d been taken on various deployments and during their downtime stateside. In most of them, Hector and Stig were side by side, arms slung over one another’s shoulders as they grinned.
The sight calmed her. Whatever was going on down in that basement, in that holding cell, she had to trust him. Hector had trusted him implicitly. She had to believe her brother’s judgment of Stig’s character was true. Those men had fought in the fiercest of battles and had depended upon one another for their very lives. Surely Hector would have seen Stig’s malicious side if he had one. And yet, she still had to know what was going on.
Cora took a steadying breath and made her decision. Tonight she’d ask Stig about the basement.
Chapter Three
Stig gathered the last pile of sawdust with his broom, scooped it up, and deposited it into the large can in the corner. He made a quick sweep of his shop, ensuring everything was in its place, and switched off the lights. He yanked on the nylon cord attached to the overhang door and brought it firmly down into place. During the day the open garage-style door allowed the swift breezes to cool the otherwise-sweltering shop.
He left out the side door, locking it behind him, and headed toward his house. The scent of freshly baked bread greeted him, reminding Stig he hadn’t eaten since that amazing breakfast Cora had prepared for him. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts that lunch had skipped his mind. Helping Cora out of the shitstorm she’d created and figuring out how to live through the next week with her in the house had proven more important.
“Cora?” Stig expected to find her in the kitchen but she was nowhere to be seen. He’d come through the living room and had seen her laptop and cell phone but not her. Maybe she was upstairs.
Stig washed his hands and cut a slice off one of the loaves of honey wheat bread resting on the counter. On the way to the fridge for butter, he peeked into the oven and discovered a bubbling pan of lasagna. She’d raided his garden for fresh veggies to make the salad sitting on the top shelf in the fridge. Dinner was going to be quite the feast.
After gulping down the butter-slathered bread, Stig started upstairs. He needed a shower, a change of clothes, and a plausible lie to explain why he’d be unavailable to entertain her this evening. That was bound to be difficult. Cora was the curious type. She’d start asking questions, and what the hell was he going to tell her?
Stig darted into his room and grabbed clean clothes. Having one bathroom and a guest in the house proved more inconvenient than he’d imagined when building his home. He should have sacrificed the extra space in the bedrooms for that second small bathroom.
Without thinking, Stig barged into the bathroom. The steamy interior and Cora’s gasp of surprise registered at the same time. She stood mere inches from him, naked as the day she’d been born. Water droplets followed the sloping curves of her perky breasts and the smooth plane of her belly. She moved a delicate hand in front of her sex, shielding the smooth skin from his view. It didn’t matter. He’d seen it all last night.
“Stig?” Cora stared at him questioningly. Black hair hung in loose, damp curls around her beautiful face. On impulse, Stig reached out to touch her hair. He wound the locks around his forefinger and brought them close to his nose. The scent was bright and sweet and one he would forever associate with her.
There was no controlling his beast once her scent filtered through him. Fire poured through his veins and blazed straight to his lower belly. His groin tightened as his cock awakened and sprang to life. In that hazy, lust-filled moment, Stig thought only of tasting those full pink lips.
“Come here.” His voice was thick and rough. Cora obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. He hauled her tight against his chest and cupped her face. He wasted no time tilting back her head and claiming her mouth. Pliable and sweet, her lips parted and welcomed his searching tongue. His hand slid to the back of her neck as he devoured her soft mouth. She mewled like a kitten and grasped at him.
Stig’s hands roamed the silky skin of her back. He trailed a finger along her spine and clasped a plump cheek. His hand slid along her hip and dipped between their bodies. He palmed her bare mons and elicited a shudder. Cora pressed against him and kissed him hungrily.
It would be so easy to haul her off the ground and place her on the bathroom counter. All he had to do was unzip his jeans and sink into her wet sheath. He could have her, hard and fast, right there, right now.
With a painful groan, Stig tore free and pushed her gently to arm’s length. “We have to stop.”
Almost instantly Cora transformed from a woman confident in her sexuality to a woman embarrassed. She reached for the nearest towel and quickly covered herself. Stig’s gut clenched. That was the last thing he’d wanted.
“Cora…wait.” He reached for her as she tried to shove past him.
“Let go.” She shook free and glared up at him. “I’m not interested in whatever lame-ass excuse you’re about to lay on me.”
Taken aback by the fire in her eyes, he tried to reason with her. “It’s not like that, Cora. I just…hell…I don’t know what I’m saying.” He wiped his face and tried to find the words. “You make me feel, Cora, feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Cora blinked, clearly stunned by his emotional statement. She frowned in confusion. “Then what the hell is the problem?”
“It’s complicated.” How could he explain he was afraid his dragon’s need to mate might be clouding his judgment? How could he tell her about the bloody feud ignited centuries ago because a dragon male had fallen in love with a human woman and gotten her killed?
“Because I’m Hector’s little sister?”
Although her guess wasn’t quite the problem, it gave him a good out. “Yes.”
Cora sighed with frustration. “Then you need to sort that out. I know boys have weird ideas about what’s okay and what’s not when it comes to sisters. The problem is you guys never stop to ask those sisters what the hell they want.”
She spun on her heel and left. He winced at the sharply slammed door. Well he’d completely fucked that up, hadn’t he?
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Shaking his head, Stig shut the door to the bathroom and shed his dirty clothes. A shower did little to clear his mind. He couldn’t argue with Cora’s points. She was right on all counts. He was stuck in the worst of places. Coming to terms with his feelings for a best friend’s sister was one thing. Telling that little sister he was actually an immortal dragon shifter? Not so easy.
As if about to brave the lion’s den, Stig cautiously entered the kitchen. Cora radiated anger. She slammed down plates and silverware and hefted the steaming dish of lasagna over to the table. The dish thumped loudly against the pot holders she’d placed to protect the tabletop.
He’d have to be an idiot to take a step farther. And yet…and yet there was something so incredibly alluring about Cora in her current mood. A pink flush colored her face and highlighted her cheekbones and lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle. Every huff thrust her breasts against the low neckline of her green tank top.
The urge to pull her close and apologize overwhelmed him. Stig questioned whether that would smooth over their tiff or cause more problems.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Cora snapped at him from behind the island.
Stig stiffened at her biting tone. He squashed the snippy reply on the tip of his tongue. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. You’re right. You should have a say in whatever this is that’s happening between us.”
Cora noticeably relaxed. “Thank you.”
Stig took a guarded step forward. “Cora, it’s not just about Hector and my feelings about becoming involved with a friend’s sister. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Serious things. Dangerous things.”
“Like the holding cell in your basement?”
Stunned by her question, Stig gaped at her. His stomach lurched. He was torn between anger and fear. “You’ve been down in the basement?”
Cora tipped her chin up as if to show him she wasn’t scared. “I heard weird noises last night. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a wounded animal.” She swallowed and braced her hands against the counter. “What’s going on, Stig?”
