“No,” he said, staring into her eyes, as if trying to get a glimpse of her soul. “You don’t, do you?” He eased back, releasing her wrists. “Speak.”
She sat up, trying to angle her body away from his, while rubbing her sore wrists. “I came here, because I have something… Someone I need you to meet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve brought a friend.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, not my thing. One woman is all I need.” He made sure she heard his words, even if she did not understand the underlying message. “Is this friend the dragon I smell? Perhaps you should tell them to come out of hiding? If they want to fight, I am ready.”
He got up, and prowled the room once more. She slid off the bed and ran to the bathroom door, putting herself between father and son. “It’s not what you think.” She shook her head. She had no idea what the man was thinking. But she was sure it wasn’t that his son was hiding in the bathroom.
“In there?” He smiled, and rolled his sleeves up further. “Open the door. I’m ready.”
“Stop.” She took a step toward him. “You will scare him.”
George Lancaster cocked his head on one side, and his voice softened. “So it is another man? You are still a liar, it seems.”
He might as well have slapped her. She reeled from his voice as he said her name. “No!”
“Get out of my way.” George grabbed her wrist. “You should not have come back here. I have spent the last five years living with the shame you brought on my family. Five years of amassing treasure to bring the downfall of those who took what did not belong to them. Do you think I am stupid? Do you think I am the naive man who took you to his bed? Do you think I don’t know why you are here? Why you have been sent?”
“I have not been sent,” she said. “I have no idea what you mean.” But she was starting to understand the trouble she caused that night, and the anger George held for her.
“So what? You simply stole for money?” George asked. “With no thought of the damage you did my family?”
Before she could answer, before she could tell him the reason she had taken this Heartsfire Blade he held so dear, the bathroom door opened, and Charlie walked out.
Chapter Four – George
“Mommy?”
George wheeled around, letting go of her hand as he turned to face the child who stood in his bathroom doorway. The small child looked at him, his eyes wide, his face pale, his bottom lip trembling as he fought not to cry.
“Mommy, are you all right? I heard shouting.”
George took a step closer to the child, who stood his ground, despite his obvious fear. In an instant, the woman had slipped past George, to place herself between him and the child. His child. He could see it in the eyes that looked back at him, and scent it on the air as he breathed in. This was the dragon he had smelled. Not an adversary. But a child. His child. He repeated the phrase. Now he knew why she was here. Now he knew whom the we she spoke of was.
“Please,” she said, putting her hand up to fend him off, even though she knew George could flatten her with his body, or throw her across the room if he chose to. “I can explain.”
“Why did you keep him from me?” George asked, his shock replaced with a growing anger. “How old is he?”
“Four,” she admitted, her eyes avoiding his hard gaze.
“You never once thought, through your pregnancy and birth, through the first four years of his life, that I had a right to know about my child?”
She winced. “How do you know he’s yours?”
He snorted with derision. “Why else would you be here?”
“And you believe me?” she asked. Then it clicked, she had come here expecting a fight. She had thought he would deny this child, and demand a paternity test before he took them in.
“He is a dragon.” He threw that at her and she paled. “Just like his father. I can smell it on his skin, I can hear the beat of his heart in my ears. He is a dragon.”
She swallowed, looking at him and then at the child. He was now convinced that she had no idea what he meant. That being a dragon must make him part of some weird cult. “Do you want me to show you my dragon?” he threatened and he let his dragon come forth, his eyes glowing a deep emerald green.
“No.” She shook her head and the young boy slipped his hand into his mother’s.
“Are you all right, Mommy?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, Charlie bear,” she replied, her hand brushing his golden hair.
“He’s not a bear,” George said quietly, as he heard her speak the child’s name. “He is a dragon.”
“But more than anything, he is my son,” she said firmly.
“No, he is our son,” George said. And you are my woman, he wanted to add, but he did not. Now was not the time to lay his cards on the table for her to see. He needed to find what leverage he could, to make sure she never ran from him again. He would bind her to him in every way he could, and make sure she knew her place. He would never trust her, but he would bed her, and bend her to his will. And breed with her.
She looked down at her child. The understanding dawning there was heartbreaking—if you had a heart. Her eyes misted over. This woman might be many things, thief, liar, whore, but she was now a mother. A mother to his son. But what game had she come here to play?
“Have you come to sell him to me?” George asked, twisting the knife into her heart. “I can think of no other reason you are here now. You have kept him from me for so long. Why else would a woman like you come here?”
She winced as his words, her cheeks coloring as she stroked the child’s head. She cared what her son thought of her. His heart opened, and for one brief moment. George wanted to let her in, wanted to believe the best of her, because this was the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life, the rest of eternity with.
Then it withered, the memory of what this woman had stolen from him returning. She was dangerous and he could not afford to let his guard down. He could not let her see that he would lay down his life for her, for them both if needed. George pulled up a barrier around his heart. He could not let her in; he could not let her ruin everything. Not when he was so close to having it all.
Ah, of course. She had been sent here to do whatever it took to stop him. If that meant using their child, she was willing to do it, and his heart hardened further. Along with another part of his anatomy. She might be here to trick him, but he sure was going to indulge his many fantasies while she was under his roof.
“I came here to ask you to protect him,” she said.
“Of course you did,” he said with a mocking smile.
Tears threatened once more, and he was tempted to believe her. But she had fooled him once, he reminded himself again.
“I swear it’s true.” She took hold of the child’s small hand, and held it tight.
“From who?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you have stolen from other people who now wish you harm.”
“Charlie is hungry. Maybe we can talk while he eats.” She inclined her head slightly to the left, and he read its meaning. Whatever she had to say, she did not want to say it in front of the child. Because she didn’t want him to be afraid—or because she didn’t want him to hear? She had only asked for protection for the child. Was she planning on dumping him and then running off to have a carefree, childfree life?
Not happening. George was old-fashioned; he believed a child needed both parents. And besides, she was his mate. He was willing to use any means at his disposal, even emotional blackmail, to make sure she stayed. Their family might never be a perfect one filled with love. But breeding another child with her would be a great pleasure, and Charlie needed a sibling. He did not agree with only children.
George smiled at himself. For a man who had grown used to a solitary existence in his adult life, he sure was opinionated on family. He’d never admit it to anyone, but a family was the one thing he wanted more than anything. A mate and a herd of children was what he craved. He would g
ladly have traded the Heartsfire Blade for that, he admitted to himself. If she had come to him and asked for it, he would have given it to her if she needed it. His clan would have understood. But to have it stolen, by his mate, that was hard to live down. Betrayal at its worst.
“Let’s go downstairs and see what we can find in the kitchen,” George said, glancing down at the small child who still looked at him as if he were the bogeyman. He was going to have to work hard to win the child over, since George had no idea what his mother had told Charlie about his father.
“Thanks. OK, Charlie?” she asked. Charlie nodded. “We’re going to get something to eat.”
“And then we can go home?” Charlie asked.
“No, Charlie bear. We can’t go home.”
“Because of the bad men?” he asked.
“We’re safe here.” Poppy picked him up, kissing his cheek. “Yes, George is going to keep you safe.”
“What about you, Mommy?” Charlie asked. The small child clung to her as she followed George back down stairs.
“Mommy can take care of herself,” she said, but her voice held a lie. Whoever was out there, whoever had forced her to seek refuge with a dragon, scared her. George made it his business to find out who and why. In fact, he was going to make it his business to find out everything he could about this woman. Starting with her name.
“Who are you?” he asked her abruptly. They had reached the kitchen and he switched on the lights, making Charlie blink and rub his eyes.
“My name is Poppy Madison,” she answered.
“Is that your real name?” George asked, as he went to the fridge and took out a covered plate that held the dinner Alfie had prepared for him. He placed it in the microwave and began to heat it.
“Yes.” Poppy sat Charlie on a chair and came closer to him. “I promise you, that while I’m under your roof, I won’t lie to you.”
George looked at her sharply. “Who did you steal the blade for?”
“Please. I can’t tell you,” she insisted.
“Then you have broken your promise,” he accused, as the microwave pinged.
“No,” she said, sounding tired. “There is a difference. I am not lying to you.”
He let it go. This was not the time to force her to tell him the truth. There would be time for that later, when the child wasn’t around. He removed the plate of hot food and placed it on the table before Charlie, and then fetched a knife and fork for his son, who bent forward and sniffed the food.
“What is it?” Charlie asked.
“Steak. Potatoes. Broccoli and green beans,” George answered, peering over and looking at the food. Alfie was right, it did look dried up, but still good enough to eat.
Charlie pulled a face. “What is steak?”
Poppy hid a smile. “It’s meat. And you are going to eat it. So let’s cut it up and then you can feed yourself. Then you need to sleep.” She pushed the child’s unkempt hair out of his eyes. As she did so, George paused to take a real hard look at them both.
Poppy’s hair looked as if it hadn’t seen the inside of a salon for months, years even. Her clothes were well worn, and mud-stained. On her feet she wore hiking boots that were also well worn. Charlie’s clothes were no better, but they were in better condition than Poppy’s. Wherever these two had come from, wherever Poppy had been in the last five years, it was not living the high life on money earned from stealing the dagger from him.
If he didn’t know better, he would guess they had been living rough. As he watched his son eat, he made coffee, allowing his anger and surprise to begin to dissipate. They were here, in his life. He needed to embrace this chance.
Instead of forcing her to tell him why she had stolen from him, he should try to win her over. She was, after all, his true mate. Bonded to him in this world and the next.
Since she stole the Heartsfire Blade from him, he had been single-mindedly trying to get it back, and trying to track down the woman who stole it. Now she was here, confusion threatened to consume him. Should he try to tame her, or control her? And then there was the other question that hammered in his brain every time he caught the scent of her.
How was he supposed to control himself when he craved her so completely?
Chapter Five – Poppy
He watched her. And when he wasn’t watching her, he was looking at their son. She longed to ask him what he was thinking. Was he going to give them sanctuary?
That thought stuck in her head, and made fear creep though her body. He would give Charlie sanctuary, she had no doubt about that. How could he not, when he knew his blood flowed through the child’s veins? But Poppy? Poppy was simply the woman who had given birth to that child.
She chose to ignore the theft of the Heartsfire Blade. She was tired of going around and around in circles in her head, trying to decide if she should tell him all that she knew about the people who had made her steal it. It dredged up too many memories she had spent years trying to bury, shoveling dirt on all the hurt, pain, and betrayal she felt over the whole episode.
If she told George Lancaster she had been played, she would not get any sympathy. More likely he would pour scorn on her for being so stupid, so naive, so… trusting. Like a gullible fool, she had been sucked into one of her brother’s plots and schemes once more. Hadn’t she spent the whole of her childhood learning what a despicable human being he was, always willing to use others for his own gains?
“The boy should sleep,” George said, as he finished his coffee. He had made some sandwiches, which she had forced herself to eat. Not because there was anything wrong with them, but because her stomach churned with nerves.
Since they had slid off the road, she had been intently focused on getting here. From finding George Lancaster’s address, to getting on the bus, to making sure Charlie had food. Now that she was here, the consequences were starting to pile up. She had placed herself and Charlie in the hands of a man who was shrewd and deadly when it came to business. That much she had learned from searching the internet while looking for his address.
Meeting him had reinforced what she had read. He wasn’t the same man she had met five years ago. Yes, he still made her insides squirm with desire when he looked at her, and his body was still the same, muscles hewn from stone, that his expensive shirt could not disguise. But there was a hardness to his expression, and guilt swept over her. She had to admit to herself that she was the cause of that hardness. Stealing that damn blade had set them both on a path, hers to the top of a mountain, his to the top of an empire. Neither were paths they would likely choose if they were free to make their own decisions.
But no matter how many times she told him she was sorry, it was never going to be enough. She would have to make the best of the situation, and if he let her stay, she would learn to tolerate the snide comments, she would learn to shoulder the accusations he threw at her. Anything to stay with Charlie. The small boy, now half asleep in his chair, was worth every sacrifice she had made so far, and every future sacrifice she might have to make. Even the ones demanded by George Lancaster.
“Do you want to carry him?” Poppy asked, as Charlie nodded his head toward the table.
George looked at her as if she might have an ulterior motive—she’d get used to that, and she could not blame him—but where Charlie was concerned her motives were always pure. Poppy hoped to one day make George see that, but right now she was just too damn tired.
“It’s been a long couple of days, and I ache in every muscle,” she admitted. “I don’t want to risk dropping him.”
George nodded and moved to stand next to Charlie, who looked up at the big man, the stranger he had only just met. But instead of being shy, he raised his arms, and George lifted him up. Cradling Charlie against his chest, he looked down at the child and inhaled his scent. Was that why Charlie was so relaxed in his father’s arms? He could smell that they were family.
The sight wrenched her gut. Would she lose her son to his father? Two dragons… She rea
ched out and grabbed the countertop, her knees weak. George moved fast, his left hand reaching out and grabbing her elbow to keep her upright.
“I’m OK.” Poppy inhaled deeply. “Just tired.”
“Come.” George released her, and she felt the loss of his presence as he turned his back on her and walked away with their son. It was the weirdest sensation for Poppy. She had been the center of Charlie’s world for so long, and he had been the center of hers. Now that had changed, irrevocably. It would never be just the two of them. Those days were gone.
No matter what happened, she could never run again, never take Charlie away from his father. As she followed George back upstairs, she accepted her fate, whatever it would be now she had handed her son’s safety over to George Lancaster. He would protect Charlie.
As George opened the door of what must be a guest bedroom, and laid Charlie down on the bed, she watched a wave of tenderness wash over his face, only to be replaced almost instantly by a hard, resolute expression. Poppy quickly took over, taking off Charlie’s shoes and his jeans, leaving him to sleep in his T-shirt. Then she kissed him goodnight and pulled the covers up over him.
George stood back, watching her, and when she had finished, he leaned forward and murmured, “Goodnight, Charlie.”
He left the room, pausing at the door, waiting for her to follow. Poppy took one last look at her son, and prayed he would be safe. If she had broken into the house, what if someone else did the same? What if someone kidnapped him? Was there anywhere safe in the world?
“He will be OK,” George said. “The alarm is on.”
Poppy nodded. “Good night, Charlie bear,” she whispered and then left the room.
George turned and walked down the hallway. Poppy stood watching him, not knowing what she was supposed to do. Did he want her to follow?
Realizing she wasn’t behind him, he stopped and turned to her. “Come. We need to talk.”
Obediently, she walked after him, her insides churning and her breathing ragged as she wondered what fate he had in store for her. She was at his mercy. Running wasn’t an option. Steeling herself to accept whatever punishment he might decide to issue for… well, everything, she followed him, only stalling when, instead of going downstairs, he stopped at his bedroom door.
The Billionaire Dragon's Secret Son (Howls Romance) Page 3
