DRAGON SECURITY: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “I know. But I think we need to end this.” He touched my face gently. “And you know that I won’t let anything bad happen to Megan.”

  “Promise me that no matter what happens, you will be there for her.”

  Hayden sobered, his eyes moving slowly over me. “Of course.”

  “You’ll take care of her. You won’t let her go off with Dante or anyone else.”

  “Sam—”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” He ran his thumb slowly over my chin. “You’re starting to scare me a little.”

  I pulled away, turning my attention back to the computer. “I just…all of this talk of terrorists and murder and…it freaks me out a little. I’m just a computer nerd.”

  “You’re more than that.”

  I shook my head. “I joined the Marines and they taught me how to hack all kinds of systems. I left the Marines and joined Megan in her security firm, and I ended up doing all the scheduling and the finances and the computer stuff. That’s all I’m capable of.” I gestured toward the computer monitors. “And I failed her on that, too.”

  “You didn’t fail anyone.”

  “I should have known that virus was there. I should have taken measures against it.”

  “You did the best you could. How were you supposed to know that a corrupted hard drive had a viable virus on it? A virus that someone set off at just the right moment?”

  “I should have known.”

  I started to shake my head, but Hayden suddenly stood, lifting me into his arms as he did. He carried me upstairs, determined to make me stop beating myself up. And the things he whispered to me in the dark? How could I feel inferior? How could I feel ugly when such a man could say those amazing things to me?

  This man who made fun of me and made me feel little…he was suddenly building me up until I felt as though I were capable of anything. And I was eternally grateful for that.

  Chapter 11

  Hayden

  There was something going on with Sam. I should have seen it much sooner—the dizzy spells and the pale skin. I should have known she wasn’t well.

  The bruises on her arms…she thought I hadn’t seen them, but I had. She was in the hospital while she was in New York. And she had all these drugs in her bathroom cabinet that she hid behind bottles of mouthwash and antiperspirant. But I saw them and I googled a few.

  Lupus. She had lupus.

  It made sense. I had very little understanding of what lupus was—only what I’d read on the internet. But the combination of a fanatical mother and a chronic illness? Obviously, that explained Sam’s shyness. She was coming out of her shell now. And I loved having the chance to be a part of that.

  Though, I had to admit, I was nervous about going with her to her mother’s tonight. I’d been hoping for a quiet evening alone, just the two of us, exchanging gifts and enjoying a good bottle of wine. But if this was something she wanted to do, how could I refuse her?

  Only for Sam would I be tying another damn tie around my neck.

  I stared at myself in the mirror, a vague memory of watching my father do this passing through my mind. He was always putting on suits and telling me how a young man should dress properly. In his mind, that meant a suit. But to me that meant something much different. I’d be happy to never wear another tie or another suit.

  I shrugged on the jacket, only the memory of Sam wearing my suit jacket making it palatable.

  The only thing that would make it better was if she’d been naked underneath…

  I shook myself, reminding my rebel brain that we were going to have dinner with a woman who apparently so deeply believed in religion that she didn’t own a television. She attended church as often as possible. And she berated her daughter about her dress and her behavior so constantly that even after years out from under her mother’s roof, she still dressed conservatively.

  Until I forced my way into her life, that is.

  I couldn’t help the smile that burst onto my face when Sam opened her door and she was wearing a soft blue dress that showed more knee than I’d seen last night in her dark bedroom. It was actually still a conservative dress, really. It had long sleeves and the top came to just above the convergence of her collarbones. And the skirt was a lovely collection of layers, each thinner than the one below, but still layer upon layer, making her hips look slightly wider, her thighs a little heavier. It was flattering, really. But I would have loved to have seen just a little more cleavage.

  “For you,” I said, pulling a bouquet of red roses out from behind my back.

  Sam giggled, taking the bouquet and shoving it all up against her face to take a deep breath of the soft fragrance.

  “Lovely!”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  But I wasn’t talking about the roses. I slid a hand around her waist and pulled her out onto the stoop with me, stealing a hot little kiss from her luscious pink lips. She moaned, melting into me before she suddenly pulled away.

  “Don’t distract me!”

  She turned around and bounced into the condo, her hips swaying and that skirt doing this sexy little motion behind her. I felt myself growing hard just watching her, ideas of what I was going to do to her tonight filling my head. I had to shake myself, to once again remind me of where it was we were headed.

  “Do you think your mother will be happy to meet me?”

  Sam peeked around the corner of the kitchen; her eyebrows were arched in a way that was meant to be stern, but just came off as a sort of sexy comical.

  “My mother is never pleased to meet anyone in my life. She thinks I should be living the life of a nun, going nowhere but to church three times a week, which might make sense if we were Catholic…”

  “What are you, exactly?”

  “My mother is Baptist. I’m…I haven’t been to church since I left for boot camp. Another thing my mother holds against me.”

  “Your lack of church participation, or boot camp?”

  “Both.”

  “I still can’t believe you were in the Marines.”

  “A lot of people don’t believe it.”

  She ducked back into the kitchen, taking the roses to the sink so that she could trim the stems and set them in water. I walked up behind her, pressing myself against her back as I reached for the bottle of whiskey behind the cereal.

  “A little fortification,” I said when she gave me a side stare.

  “You’re driving.”

  “Yeah.”

  I poured a healthy slug into a glass and handed it to her. She laughed, but then she downed it in one swallow.

  Impressive.

  “Okay,” she said a moment later. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Yep. Let’s go, grandma.”

  She slapped my arm, but then she laughed, falling into me as I pulled her close to me. We walked out of the condo wrapped in each other’s arms, stealing a few kisses as we stumbled toward my car. I kissed her properly as I held the passenger door closed, not allowing her to get in until she kissed me back. And what a kiss it was!

  The drive to her mother’s house wasn’t terribly long. She lived in one of the small Houston suburbs where the houses were all cookie cutter copies of the ones beside them. I pulled into the drive, my hands shaking just a little. It felt like I was about to put myself in front of the firing squad; I didn’t like it. But then I looked over at Sam and saw her self-consciously tugging at her skirt.

  “Don’t,” I said, sliding my hand over hers. “You look beautiful.”

  “I should have chosen something with a longer skirt…not that she would have approved of that, either.”

  “You shouldn’t dress to please anyone but yourself.”

  She glanced at me, her lips parted to argue.

  “I know I teased you, but that had nothing to do with what you were wearing.” I leaned close, nibbled at her bottom lip for a second. “Didn’t you ever have some little boy punch you in the arm because he wanted to sit next to you
during story time?”

  “Do you want to sit next to me during story time?”

  “Very much.”

  She sighed as she kissed me, her lips so soft and sensual that I was getting to the point where I thought I might have to sit out dinner for fear of losing a little control. But then she pulled back and pushed her door open, reluctantly climbing out of the car, at the same time causing a rush of cold air over me. Talk about cold showers.

  We held hands to the front door, which was wrenched open before we could even finish our little walk.

  “Took you long enough. Do you really have to put on such a show in front of my house where all my neighbors can see?”

  “Hello, Mother,” Sam said, leaning in to kiss the woman’s cheek.

  I watched the two women, shocked, to be honest, at how young and beautiful Sam’s mother was. She couldn’t have been much over forty and she had the same soft auburn hair and light eyes that Sam had. She wore an unflattering gray sweater over dark slacks, but it didn’t hide the fact that she still had curves that were very much like her daughter’s. They could have passed for sisters in a different world, a world where Mrs. Wagner didn’t wear a permanent scowl on her face.

  “Mother, this is Hayden Dubois. He works with me at Dragon.”

  Mrs. Wagner didn’t even look at me. She simply turned and led the way into her house.

  “That place is a bed of corruption. I’ve told you time and again that I don’t like you working there.”

  “I know, Mother. But I like working there. I like working with Megan.”

  “And those people!” Mrs. Wagner shook her head. “I never should have allowed you to be friends with that girl. The things she’s exposed you to! And that Peter…is there no wonder that God saw fit to smite him down?”

  “Mother—”

  “I told you, people with money lose their sense of morals. You’d have been better off going with me to church instead of spending time with them. Now look at you. Not going to church, fighting in the heathen military, and now bringing home one of Megan’s warriors.” She shook her head, clearly disapproving. “I knew your soul was tainted, but I thought I could save you from going to hell. I guess I was wrong.”

  “Mrs. Wagner, you have no—”

  Sam touched my chest, shaking her head vigorously in the negative. I frowned, looking down at her in confusion. But I respected her enough to keep my mouth shut—even if I wanted to tell that woman a few things.

  Sam took my hand and drew me to the dining room table. It was set for dinner with chipped plates and cracked glasses.

  “Not the nicest dinnerware, I know,” Mrs. Wagner said, catching my glance. “But I don’t believe in wasting money on finery. I get by with what I have. Everything else goes to the church.”

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Wagner.”

  “It used to embarrass Samantha, didn’t it?”

  Sam blushed a little, but she shook her head. “Of course not, Mother.”

  “You would never invite that Megan to dinner.”

  “I did. You wouldn’t allow it. You said you wouldn’t waste your resources on someone who had everything she could ever desire already.”

  Mrs. Wagner smiled. “You do remember things quite clearly, don’t you? Too bad you don’t remember the Bible verses I read to you every night.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  It was getting to be too much, this back and forth between them. I could see Sam growing smaller and smaller with every word out of her mother’s mouth. But every time I tried to say something, she cut me off, shooting me a look that begged me to behave. It was getting hard, let me tell you.

  We dined on an overly wet meatloaf and chunky mashed potatoes with overcooked green beans. I picked at my food, watching Sam over the top of my wine glass—filled with some sort of Kool-Aid.

  “How long have you known my daughter?” Mrs. Wagner suddenly asked.

  “Three years.”

  The woman studied me a long moment, then shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. How long have you known her carnally?”

  “Mother!”

  Sam stood, glaring down at her mother. Mrs. Wagner wouldn’t look at her.

  “Why don’t we go get dessert?” Sam suggested in a barely controlled voice.

  Mrs. Wagner offered a mild excuse and followed Sam into the kitchen. Not a minute later, I could hear them yelling.

  “What are you doing? He’s a guest in your house and you ask him a question like that?”

  “Well, look at yourself, Samantha. You’re dressed like a harlot straight out of the Bible.”

  “I’m dressed the same way all other girls of my generation dress. This is the modern world, Mother, not Biblical times.”

  “You’d be better off living in Biblical times. Your father— Your soul was darkened just by the manner of your conception. But you could have turned to the Bible. You could have become something better. But you followed the wrong path.”

  “I’m not a bad person, Momma. And I wanted this night to be special. I wanted you to meet someone who is very important in my life. Why couldn’t we just have a nice night?”

  “Because you bring sin into my house. Am I supposed to just turn a blind eye to it?”

  That was about when I’d had enough. I got up and marched to the kitchen door, ready to pull Sam out of there, a polite excuse on my tongue. But just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they suddenly did.

  “You were such a good girl. When you were little, you were so good. You said your prayers every night, sat with me at church so quietly—so pious, so unlike all the other little girls your age. Everyone admired you and talked about what a well-behaved child you were. But then you met that Megan Bradford girl and you began acting out, rolling up the hem of your skirts and wearing bright colors. You became a whore just like the rest of them!”

  Mrs. Wagner turned away from Sam. She gripped the edge of the sink and held on as if she were stuck in the middle of an earthquake.

  “I thought I could save you. I thought you would be what I’d tried so hard to become. But you’re nothing. You’re just like your father!”

  Sam paled. But she didn’t move or try to defend herself. She didn’t even cry.

  “I’m sorry, Momma,” she said softly. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry for what that man did to you. But he’s not my father. He never earned that title. If I’m like him, then that’s only because you pushed me away when I needed you the most. You never got over what he did to you, and you were never the kind of mother a child deserves to have. You spent so much time waiting for evil to come out of my soul, you never saw how much I loved you. You never saw how much I needed you. Can you blame me for looking for love somewhere else?”

  Sam went to her mother and touched her shoulder, but Mrs. Wagner shrugged her touch away. I could see how deeply that hurt Sam, but she simply nodded.

  “I love you, Momma,” she said softly before crossing the room.

  I slipped my hand into hers and followed her out the door.

  If it was possible to truly hate another human being, to hate them with every bit of your being, I hated Mrs. Wagner in that moment.

  But one look at Sam and the opposite emotion washed through me. I’d never been more impressed, more proud, or more in love with anyone in all my life.

  She was one hell of a woman.

  “Do you have a winter jacket?”

  Sam was lost in thought, her eyes glued to the window in the passenger-side door. She glanced at me almost as if she’d forgotten I was there.

  “Why would I need a winter jacket? The coldest it gets in Houston is maybe thirty.”

  “Do you ski?”

  She laughed. “I barely jog.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  “Here? I don’t know if you know this, but the last time it snowed here was more than seven years ago. It doesn’t really snow in Houston.”

  “But it snows in Colorado.”

 
; “It does. But we’re in Houston.”

  “Not for long.”

  I pulled into the garage under my building, bringing her to my apartment for the first time. As stupid as it sounds, I was nervous about it. I’m not a sentimental man. I don’t have a lot of furnishings and decorations in my place. But I have a collection of weapons—swords and knives and guns—that she might find a little unnerving.

  “I need to get a few things. You can come up if you want.”

  “Are you inviting me up to your place?”

  “I am.” I leaned over and kissed her softly. “You want to see it?”

  “Dying to.”

  She blushed a little and I put it down to her overwhelming shyness. I touched her face, sliding my hand slowly over her jaw.

  “You are so beautiful,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry for the things I’ve said to you.”

  “I feel beautiful when you look at me,” she said softly. “I always have.”

  I kissed her and took in everything about her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let her go. I wanted to protect her from the craziness of her mother, the pain that the world held for her. But I couldn’t do that. I could, however, whisk her away on a little vacation, a getaway from the craziness, and I was definitely going to do that.

  “I have a cabin near Aspen. I was planning on going up there for a few days to do a little skiing, a little hunting. But now…I just want to take you with me and forget the world for a few days.”

  Her smile was bright. “I’d love that.”

  I felt like a little boy who’d just gotten everything he wanted on Christmas morning. I pulled her out of the car and kissed her again before taking her up in the elevator to my little one-bedroom apartment. She didn’t bat an eye when she saw my swords hanging on the wall over the fireplace. Nor did she react to the knives, except to run her fingers over a few of the blades. When she saw the guns, she squealed.

  “You have a Colt Derringer? That must have cost a fortune!”

  “Worth it.” I came up behind her and lifted the gun carefully from its display case. “This is a Colt third model Derringer, factory engraved. This one was manufactured in 1885 and was very gently used.”