Sunlight.
Her fingers warmed. She set the deck on the table and motioned for the man to cut the deck, trying hard not to meet his gray gaze. Were his eyes gray? Or were they a soft and gentle green? She caught herself studying his eyes and quickly looked away. He laughed gently and reached out with a long-fingered hand to cut the deck. His fingers were graceful as they gripped the edges of the cards. He restacked the cut cards and pushed them toward her.
“You’re awfully quiet for a fortune teller. Shouldn’t you be grilling me about my life so you know what to draw on when you lie to me?”
She couldn’t help herself. She lifted her narrowed gaze to glare at him. “You think the cards lie?” She challenged him.
“I didn’t say that the cards did. I said that fortune tellers do.”
She nodded. “Then it’s a good thing that I’m not a fortune teller. Close your lips and listen to what the cards have to tell you.”
She lifted three cards from the top of the deck he’d cut and laid them on the table that sat between her and the man. Her fingers began to tremble as she turned them over. The Tower. The Lovers. And Death. She jerked her hand away from the cards as if they’d burned her.
How could his draw mirror the one she’d done the night before? Had she not shuffled the deck properly? The magic in her hands had felt odd when she shuffled. Had it summoned her reading over again? That had to be the solution. She managed to read for herself and not for him.
That was her fault.
She swiped her hand over the card before he could say anything, and tucked them back into their deck. “That was a failure,” she admitted. “I’m very sorry about that.”
He studied her face. She could feel his eyes trace the line of her jaw, feel it as it passed over her lips and made its way up to her eyes. She felt almost as if he was caressing her face. It warmed things inside of her that hadn’t been warmed by anything other than romance novels in years.
“I guess that you’ll just have to make it up to me, then.”
Her head shot up. He smiled at her, soft and warm. Her lips pursed, an unsaid question on them.
“Let me take you out for dinner tonight. It’s the least you can do for me after that reading.”
She laughed, a rush of air more than any feeling of humor. Was he being serious? Gwen was used to blending into the crowd. Keeping her head down and away from men had kept her safe for decades now. What was it about this man that made her want to say yes?
“I mean,” he began, a soft teasing tone in his voice. “You did just prove me right. Your reading failed after you chose not to ask me any questions. Now, I’d like the chance to ask you a few of my own over dinner. So, what do you say?”
Her pursed lips spread out into a smile, one that said she ate men like him for breakfast. “I would love to,” she said. “I’ll meet you here at six-thirty.”
“I can’t pick you up at your place?”
“I can’t trust a man that appears out of nowhere as quickly as that. You pick me up here and I will let you choose where we eat.”
He seemed to mull over the option she gave him. She wasn’t going to settle for any less. She had to be cautious. It wouldn’t do to have a stranger know where she lived, even if she was leaving soon.
“It’s a deal then,” he said as he extended his hand.
She took it with the intention of shaking it, but he gently gripped her hand and turned it so that he could bring it to his lips. She could have sworn she saw a strange look cross his face when his lips hovered over her skin, but then they pressed against her skin and she lost rational thought. His lips were warm and soft, and the soft kiss he left sent a jolt right down to her core. One that curled into a warm feeling that she’d long ago forgotten.
“Uh, I should go pay for my book,” she muttered, yanking her hand from his grasp and scurrying away to hide among the bookshelves.
Her heart thumped inside her chest. He shouldn’t affect her the way that he did. She shouldn’t be so susceptible, but her mind pointed out the obvious. She was lonely. She’d been on the run for more years than she’d known happiness. Living in tiny apartments and trying not to make friends or take lovers had not built her the kind of life one could look back on with joy. The only thing she was grateful was how far technology had come in the bedroom when one was by themselves.
Gwen paused and looked down at the book in her hands. The dashing, dark-haired man that looked back at her had his hand around the woman’s waist and pulled her possessively close. She shuddered as she remembered why she was running, what waited for her if she stopped too long, if she made a scene. Gwen crammed the book back onto the shelf and slipped out the front door and onto the street.
Men were trouble. She didn’t need one in her life making it more worrisome than it already was. One thing she knew for certain was that she wasn’t going to meet this man for his date tonight. They hadn’t even exchanged names, let alone numbers. There was no way he was going to find her.
***
Cameron grumbled a string of expletives under his breath as he watched the Witch of Caernarfon slip out the bookstore’s door. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. He pushed himself from the table and glanced down. The witch had been so flustered that she left her cards behind. Quickly, he swooped them up and charged behind her.
Outside, he could mingle with the small crowd that walked the street. His height and bulk gave him away, traits of dragons that were hard to ignore, and so he hung back a little. It was easy to keep his eye trained on the blonde waves that fell around her head. Just the sight of her made his heart thump.
When he entered the bookstore, Cameron knew that he could smell witch. It smelled like a grassy day in the sunshine, carrying hints of lavender and sage. He didn’t expect it to lead him to the small blonde woman seated at a table. The sight of the ancient tarot cards beside her told him that his nose was not wrong, but he could barely believe it. Her pale, ivory skin was flawless and her lean body gave way to curves that could easily cause Cameron to lose himself.
This was not the witch that he expected to find. The prospect of seducing this woman seemed much more appealing than it had before. His body certainly agreed, growing stiff at the sight of her. The urge to grab her and carry her to somewhere private swept over him. It was an unfamiliar and almost overpowering desire that he had to shove down.
The beast inside of him rose his head in observation while they followed the woman. Its eyes were trained on the witch’s behind, curvy and soft. Cameron’s beast was a quiet animal that rested content and patient inside of him. Most times. It could be devastating when it lashed out, a fact that his older brother had learned the hard way.
Now, his calm and patient beast growled with a quiet ferocity that scared him. He couldn’t tell if the beast was wary of the woman or felt the same way he did.
Owain’s words sauntered through his mind while he watched the witch turn a key in her door. He was supposed to be wary of the witch and what she could do. He had to put a leash on his desires while he dealt with her. If Cameron let his guard down around this woman, she could cause more trouble for his family.
Cameron stepped back, his hand reaching into his pocket to touch the well-worn cards in his pocket. He wondered what it was about the reading that had shaken her. Clearly, the reading had found something. He knew little about the cards, but the imagery said enough. Falling, loving, monster. He worried that the cards had warned her about him.
He meant her no harm, but the witch had been hiding from something. It was no small leap to see him as a threat if she was afraid. The thought made his beast rise again, filling his human body so completely that he was afraid he might burst into his dragon form right then and there. The beast’s desire to protect her was so pure and raw that Cameron found himself very confused.
He retreated, having found her place of hiding already. All he had to do now was wait. It gave him plenty of time to sort through the emotions that the beast had thr
ust upon him so unexpectedly. His head pounded, but his hand stayed firmly glued to the cards in his pocket.
Could it be?
The emotions that the witch had stirred inside of him began to unravel over the hours that he waited outside. Little by little he picked them apart, the attraction, the fierce protectiveness.
There was a chance that the Witch of Caernarfon was his mate. He scowled. That was unlikely. He held rank within the family, if only for being an honorable and patient man, but he was in no way deserving of the prestige that mating the Witch of Caernarfon would bring upon him. She was meant for a family leader, no doubt.
Cameron eyed the door that the witch had slipped into earlier while he pulled his phone from his pocket. If anyone knew how to sort the thoughts and emotions tumbling through his head, Gareth would. Rhiannon had swept into his life so suddenly, a tiny and young dragon with a fierce heart that became his mate.
Gareth would be able to tell him what he was feeling. So, Cameron leaned back and listened to his phone ring. After that, he would figure out a new approach to win the witch’s heart for his family.
Chapter Four
Gwen’s stomach fell through the floor when she realized that she’d left her cards at the bookstore. Tracing her steps could possibly take her back to them, but if someone hadn’t already snatched them up, the man would still be there. She couldn’t afford a run in with him again.
During her walk home, she sorted out why he bothered her so much. Her senses had been so overwhelmed by the reading that she’d missed it at the time.
Her suitor was a dragon.
And, Gwen certainly didn’t need any more of those in her life. They were greedy, possessive, and cruel. This dragon, no matter how pretty he was, was a threat to her. She was thankful that she managed to escape when she had. His hair pegged him as one of the red dragons from Snowdonia, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t working for her ex. It also didn’t mean he wasn’t trying to take her as his own, a social slap in the face to her ex.
Why had she ever laid with a damn dragon to begin with? Her life would have been infinitely better had she never paid the dragon man any attention. He wooed her with sweet words and the promise of a mating bond that never happened. Gwen was no one’s mate. She was no one’s lover. She came to terms with that while she was still with him. It was that realization that gave her the courage to leave him once and for all.
***
Gwen was shoving her meager belongings into bags, trying to ignore the ache in her heart over her lost cards, when she heard a soft knock on her door. Her head shot up. No one knew where she lived. It could be someone asking her to move the car parked out front again, a car that was not hers.
She looked back to the bags that were nearly bursting. Leaving was her top priority right then. Especially when there was a dragon in her town. The knock came again, a little louder this time. Gwen bit her lower lip and turned toward the incessant visitor. The sooner she could turn them away, the sooner she could leave.
Beside the door, Gwen touched her finger to the chicken foot shaped sigil carved into the cheap wood. Her magic flowed around her and sank into the sigil. It was a kind of warding, casting a protective veil over the doorframe that wouldn’t allow anyone with malicious intent to cross into her home.
Feeling a bit safer, she opened the door. Her heart shuddered. The handsome dragon man smiled down at her on the other side of her doorframe. His hand reached into his pocket and she thought her heart might stop. Her magic gathered around her, a spell hung ready on her lips. But, what his hand pulled from the pocket made the words die in her mouth.
Her cards.
“You left so quickly you forgot these,” he said, sweetly. “Were you so excited for our date that you rushed home to change?”
His eyes moved past her and she could see the moment that he realized she was running. His eyes flicked back to hers, solemn now.
“You were going to leave without even a goodbye?”
“Yes,” she said boldly. She stood her ground, knowing what she was dealing with now. He wouldn’t be able to walk past the veil of magic that stood between them. All she had to do was get rid of him.
The only problem was that her body didn’t agree with her mind. It ached for her to reach out and brush her fingers against his as she reclaimed her lost cards, if only to see how his skin would feel. It ached to reach out and push the fallen strands of red hair away from his face.
Shit, what was wrong with her? Did she have a death wish? Did she want to be a dragon’s plaything again?
No. She wouldn’t let it happen. She carefully snatched the offered cards from his hand. “I forgot that I have an appointment out of town. I can’t make the date tonight.”
There was no sound of true apology in her voice. She wasn’t sorry. She was surviving.
“That’s a shame,” the dragon man claimed. “Maybe we can spend the night in, then.”
His form pushed past her into her apartment. Her stomach dropped through the floor. Her spell should have kept him out. She should have been protected against him. Panic lurched through her body and her magic surged. The building shook around her. The dragon man’s head rose and his eyes met hers. An emotion passed through them. One that she’d never seen on a dragon’s face before.
Guilt.
***
His mouth flapped as he searched for words to explain. It wasn’t like Cameron could explain his mission to her. She was the mission. Yet, his beast was angry with him for causing the panic that they both saw on her face. He invaded her home and made her feel unsafe. His beast shamed him for his brash actions.
He hoped his beast would understand that they needed to protect their family. If this witch could do that, then Cameron would do what he had to. Yet, even he knew scaring her wasn’t going to help.
Cameron held his hands up, trying to look harmless. It was easy among his own family, but without bigger dragons like his brother nearby, he did cut an imposing figure.
“Look,” he started. “I’m very sorry if I scared you. I’m acting a bit rashly because I saw a pretty woman and I thought I would miss my chance. Can you forgive an idiot?”
A small laugh escaped her. Even she looked surprised by the sound.
“Will you allow me to stay? Just for a short while? I’d like to prove that I’m worth the pain.”
Her eyes moved toward her half-closed door and the sigil carved into the fake wood. He didn’t know what it did, but it seemed that he must have passed a kind of test because she turned back to him and gave a curt nod.
“Stay,” she said softly, like her own body was betraying her. “You have three hours, dragon.”
He carefully kept his jaw from dropping. It really was no surprise that the witch pegged him for what he really was. He knew that she had dealings with his kind before. Maybe not his family, but dragons were hard to miss.
Cameron watched the witch move toward the plush couch, her thick hips swaying back and forth in a rhythm that seemed to hypnotize him. She spun and fell onto the cushion, her head tilting to the side and soft eyes rising to meet his.
“How do you plan on impressing me, dragon man?”
He didn’t know. She had his normally collected mind in a blender. His thoughts wouldn’t leave her thick hips or the soft curve of her neck as her hair fell away from it. His feet closed the distance between them and leaned over her, his hand gripping the back of the couch as his face hovered over hers. From there, the smell of herbs enveloped his senses. His eyes fell to her lips. They were plump and slightly parted with her surprise while she looked up at him with reservation.
“I’m sure that I could find many ways to impress you,” he whispered into the small space between them.
Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “I’ve had dragon before,” she said. “I’m no longer impressed with its flavor.”
His beast rose, growling jealously. It surprised Cameron. The thought of this lithe, blonde witch laying with another dragon drove
him mad. His hand tightened on the couch until he heard the wood frame beneath the upholstery groan. His hand snapped back and he straightened himself, surprised at his own behavior.
Cameron was the voice of reason. He prided himself on being able to diffuse tense situations with his cool and collected behavior. He was the patient predator, content to wait in the brush until his prey let its guard down. The way he was acting now was so far out of character for him that he was thrown for a loop. He looked down at the witch with the false smugness painted across her face. He could smell that beneath her faux bravado was a layer of panic and fear.
That made his beast angry. It made the creature want to curl around her protectively. Cameron had a moment where the world swayed around him and things started to come together. This couldn’t be what he thought it was. He had to be wrong.
“Let me stay here. Let me prepare a meal for the two of us. I will impress you by earning your trust,” he said.
Her eyebrow rose, high and elegant. It was clear that she didn’t think she was going to trust him anytime soon, but, if Cameron was right, she would have to learn far faster than either of them thought possible.
“If you think that will happen in the span of a single night, then you have a quick lesson coming your way.”
“I did return the cards you lost; did I not?” Cameron motioned towards the well-worn deck on the low table beside her. How long had she carried them? How many cities and towns had those cards served? “They look cherished and I didn’t want you to have to move on without something you must have carried with you for decades.”
“What do you suggest we dine upon?” She asked as her fingers toyed with the hem of her long skirt. It had ridden up to reveal the smooth lines of her pale legs. He ached to reach down and run his hands up them, to feel the shape of them beneath his hands. That wouldn’t earn her trust, so he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I wasn’t prepared to eat in for two.”
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