He stalked through the restaurant, searching faces, his gut churning insistently the entire time. If anything had happened to her…
Pushing past the queue of party people at the buffet, he ignored the comments about rudeness. She had to be somewhere. Outside, he checked the bar and around the pool. Down on the beach. Worry creased his brow while the pull of the blue moon created havoc with his body, his control.
Every one of his bones ached as if he had a fever and sweat glued his shirt to his chest. He forced himself to stagger along the beach, to push past the pain that made him shiver and shake.
All he could think of was Emma. The way she smiled. The way she pressed him and ignored his bouts of surliness. The way she gave her all every time they made love.
A derisive snort escaped him. Somewhere along the line, Emma had crept into the empty spaces inside him. It was a damn uncomfortable sensation, but he’d come to enjoy her presence.
A flash of red caught his eye, and he hurried along the beach to intercept her. “Emma. Where the hell have you been?” A wave of pain doubled him over. Sex. Shit, now. Jack jerked her against his chest, shuddering at the feminine feel of her. Her sunset hair was ruffled and dirt coated one cheek. He lifted a trembling hand, battling nausea and acute stomach pangs to unbutton her shirt. A quickie to take the edge off, to stave the pain and halt the shift to taniwha. He fumbled, his nails well on the way to transformation.
“We have to go now.” Emma fought for breath, her breasts heaving, her brow moist with sweat. She glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing? Shit! They’re coming. We’ve got to hide.”
The scent of blood distracted him, and his nostrils flared. The coppery tang was coming from her. He seized her hands and saw her wrists were bloodied when she pushed against his chest.
“What happened?” Damn, his voice was changing. Desperation swelled along with pain. Sex. Now.
“Run.” Emma grabbed his forearm. “They’re after me.”
A gunshot punctuated her words, sounding much like the clay pigeon shooters, but Emma took off like a startled gazelle. She sprinted across the sand toward the river mouth. Jack lumbered after her, trying to focus on moving one foot after the other. Waves of torment engulfed him, sharp and intense. His hands had turned. If the transformation progressed much further he wouldn’t be able to come back—not for twenty-four hours.
The soft sand changed to oozing mud. It sucked at his sandaled feet and slowed his progress. Fighting the aches and throbs of protesting muscles, Jack paused to rip off his shirt and yank off his leather sandals. Pearly scales already covered his chest, ranging over more skin with each gathering minute. He glanced at Emma as she darted between two mangrove trees. His brave and determined Emma. He hobbled after her, struggling past the grasping branches of the mangrove trees that gouged his limbs.
The pungent scent of the mud and the salty tang of the water called his dragon soul.
Emma.
Regret pierced him along with sorrow, and in that moment, he realized he cared more for her than he ever had for another woman. And he was going to lose her, if he didn’t scare her to death first.
Jack’s senses sharpened. The thudding of running feet following them continued, the harsh sound of the men’s breathing a signal to hurry.
“Emma,” he growled. “Into the water.”
Her face whitened noticeably. “No, I can’t swim.”
But he could since taniwhas—the species he belonged to—were creatures of the water. “Climb on my back.” He had to concentrate to force out the words.
Emma hesitated but the crack of a firing gun—closer now and not of the clay pigeon variety—galvanized her to action.
Jack ripped off his remaining clothes and waded into the water. “Come.” His low, growly voice was barely recognizable. He glanced at Emma and winced.
“W-what is happening to you?” The clear shock on her face told him the transformation from man to taniwha had progressed enough to traumatize a human. His gut burned, his throat tightened with the need to rail at fate. No time to explain. Their pursuers were still crashing through the undergrowth, coming closer, closer, closer.
He grabbed Emma and tugged her resisting body into deeper water.
“No. No.” She attempted to dig in her heels, panic lending her strength. The men’s shouts sounded near as they searched for them amongst the mangroves.
Knowing he didn’t have another option, he allowed the image of his dragon to form in his mind. Muscles and bones lengthened, his face changed, elongating to fit the sharp teeth and fangs that developed in his mouth. His nostrils changed shape, as did his eyes. A long tail formed, making him appear larger than his normal six foot two. His arms and legs changed into strong, webbed limbs suitable for swimming.
Fully shifted, the taniwha resembled a water beast, half dragon, half Loch Ness monster in appearance, capable of inflicting mortal wounds to enemies. He waded deeper into the water, and Emma started to cling instead of attempting to flee.
Jack filled his lungs with air and began to swim. He kept just below the surface instead of diving into the watery depths as he normally would if he was on his own. Emma needed to breathe but if he kept his body low, she wouldn’t be too visible. He headed for the mainland, his heart heavy.
Once they arrived on the other side, things would change with Emma. Her hands gripped him, fingernails digging into his hide, but after her initial gasp, she hadn’t uttered a word.
Shock, he thought. She’d fear him now, and he hated the idea. Too late, he realized he wanted her in his life. He shied from the word love, but it felt uncomfortably close to the emotion he swore he’d never let into his life again.
***
Surreal. She was shooting through the water on the back of a beast. And that beast was Jack.
George Taniwha Investigators and Security.
Emma’s heart thumped erratically, her breath catching as the waves rushed over Jack’s back and splashed her chest. She scrubbed the water from her face and coughed as she swallowed a mouthful. Despite her fear, exhilaration echoed her distress.
The taniwha part of the company name was real. She was riding on the back of a dragon. Jack was a taniwha. He’d shifted and grabbed her before escape entered her head. She wrinkled her nose. Could be worse. She’d glimpsed his teeth. Children’s storybooks hadn’t exaggerated the sharp fangs.
Another wave slapped her in the face. An undignified screech emerged, and she wrapped her hands around Jack’s neck. The water level crept higher. Reality check! She was in the middle of the bloody sea. God, she hated deep water.
Instinctively, she clung tighter, curling her fingers into the slippery flesh of the taniwha—Jack. Bands of panic clamped her chest, stealing her breath. She was gonna drown and no one would ever learn of her fate. They’d go back to the island. Yes. Great idea. She glanced over her shoulder and her shoulders slumped. The three men brandishing guns on the shoreline put a realistic spin on the situation. They didn’t seem worried about the guests, although most were at lunch or at the clay pigeon shooting and wouldn’t notice the danger in their midst.
No, returning wasn’t an option.
She gripped Jack with her knees and kept her gaze off her the endless expanse of water. How fast did a taniwha swim anyway? Faster than a boat?
Emma concentrated on the mainland, all the while praying they’d get there quick. She wondered about George and his sons. George’s wife Meri. Were they all taniwha? Did they look like Jack?
The taniwha changed direction without warning, and Emma dug her fingers into the dragon’s hide for greater purchase. Alarm almost choked her until she realized Jack was heading for a part of the coast covered in bush. The first thing she intended to do was get her feet on solid ground. She might even kiss the solid surface. The waves increased in size without warning.
Emma shrieked as one broke over her head. Panicked, she struggled, one hand loosening its grip on Jack to flail to the surface. Air. She need
ed air now.
A growl filled the air, vibrating through her ears in sharp warning. Then, her head cleared the water and she sucked in a hoarse breath. Another wave crashed to shore but this one struck at shoulder level.
The taniwha swam then stood at the water’s edge, four powerful limbs taking them to shore. Emma attempted to scramble off the creature’s back but Jack roared. She froze in place, unsure of what to do next.
Jack lumbered up the beach with her on his back. He was a pretty color—reminding her of the inside of a green-lipped mussel shell—pearly gray with hints of pink and green. The color was the one attractive thing about the dragon. Emma found it hard to believe Jack and the taniwha were one. Jack was a man to die for. The taniwha was…had a face only a mother could love, yet they inhabited the same being. Her mind stuttered and the blip in her thought processes cleared.
They were the same, and she really, really liked Jack.
Problem solved.
They crashed through low scrub and bush until Emma couldn’t see or hear the sea. The secondary regrowth gave way to larger trees—punga, karaka and manuka. The dragon continued with its uneven lope, taking a small overgrown path. Ferns brushed against them and the leaf litter cracked under its feet but Emma couldn’t hear a single bird.
The taniwha—Jack—never hesitated. Gradually, the shadows gave way and they emerged into a clearing. Jack stopped, and she cautiously pried her fingers free and slid across his slippery back to the ground. They eyed one another but the taniwha broke contact first. He lumbered over to a punga and stripped several of the branches from the fern tree. After laying them on the ground, the taniwha turned to her and gestured with a clawed arm.
Okaay. It appeared they were staying.
“I’m going to find help.” Emma turned to leave.
A roar echoed through the clearing. Strident like a clap of thunder directly overhead, the bark of sound made her leap in fright. She took another step and the taniwha sidled closer and herded her back to the leafy bed on the ground.
“All right,” she snapped. “I get the picture.” Maybe there was something of Jack in the taniwha after all. They were both bossy.
Emma sat on a fallen log and glared. The dragon’s mouth widened, and she could have sworn the creature was smirking.
Day passed to night and the temperature dropped. Emma shivered, fighting the need to sleep, her head dropping to her chest before she jerked awake again.
Suddenly, Jack grunted. He ambled over and scooped her off the log before she could scramble away.
“I don’t think—”
He growled and flashed his teeth.
“All right!”
Jack placed her on the fern bed and positioned himself beside her.
“You could have told me instead of scaring me half to death. I thought you were trying to drown me,” Emma stated with a trace of defiance.
Jack grunted, the sound coming close to a bark of amusement.
Emma turned away. She wouldn’t sleep—she knew it—but she might as well pretend.
The twitter of birds woke her at first light the next morning. She rolled over, away from the clammy warmth to see Jack, still in taniwha form, studying her warily.
“Morning,” she mumbled, self-consciously finger combing her messy curls. “When do you change back? You do change back, right?”
Jack grunted. He seemed to do that a lot but she was no linguist. Each grunt sounded much the same.
He walked heavily toward a path the other side of the clearing then stopped to glance at Emma.
She sighed. “All right. I’m coming.”
They walked for hours, navigating heavy bush, scrambling up and down hills. By late afternoon, Emma was footsore, tired and desperately hungry. When they reached a clearing and a bubbling stream, she stopped, refusing to go a step farther without rest.
She glared at Jack, half expecting a thunderous protest but he shrugged and strode into the stream where he spent ten minutes splashing like a playful child. Then, he stepped from the water and stood before her. His skin glowed in the sunshine. He shimmered.
Emma blinked as the air around him shifted. The length of his jaw changed, becoming smaller before her eyes. “He’s transforming,” she whispered, amazement coloring her voice as his long tail disappeared.
Soon, all that remained of the taniwha was the whiff of fish and mangrove mud that lingered in the air.
Jack took a cautious step toward Emma. She hadn’t behaved in the way he’d expected. She hadn’t screamed, at least until she’d realized he intended to swim to the mainland. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“You make a very ugly dragon.”
Jack scowled. “There is nothing wrong with my taniwha appearance. I look the same as all the others.”
A slow grinned danced across her face as she scanned him. “You’re stark naked.”
“That’s it?”
“Um, I’m glad we didn’t drown?”
That was it? Reaction buckled his knees, and Jack sank to the ground.
She closed the distance between them and crouched beside him. She placed her palm on his forehead and frowned. “Are you okay?”
“The last woman who saw me in taniwha form panicked. She fled the scene and was so traumatized she crashed her car into a tree. It was my fault she died.”
“Oh, please,” Emma scoffed. “How was it your fault? You made her drive? You made her crash?”
Bemusement filled Jack as her wide, bright smile bloomed. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Hope bloomed and his cock rose in a silent demand. She looked damn sexy with that snooty, superior expression on her face.
“So what do we do now? Have we got enough to fry Mahoney’s ass?”
“Don’t you care that I change into a dragon when the moon is full?” He’d leave the explanation about sex for later. The issue was clouded enough already. No, he’d give her the worst now. “When the full moon approaches, I need sex several times a day to help me maintain human form.”
“It doesn’t have any bearing on our case,” Emma said, but her cheeks flushed a bright red. “Can we get Mahoney for running the sports-drug racket and selling illicit movies? We have to do something. He’s a creep. Besides, I don’t want our images for sale on the net.”
He didn’t want that either. They’d get back every damn copy and destroy the master. But maybe he’d keep one for private viewing. “I love you,” he said, his gut bucking with uncertainty.
“You do? About time!” Emma dropped to the ground at his side. She plucked at the white flowers of a manuka tree, before looking up to flash him a blinding smile. “It took you long enough to work it out for yourself. The sex part is fine with me. I enjoy sex with you.”
Was that it? Didn’t women get off on this emotion stuff? He stared at Emma, willing her to tell him she loved him, too. She wasn’t a casual girl. She must feel something for him. They hadn’t had sex, dammit. They’d made love.
“So, are we going to charge Mahoney?” She dug deep inside her shorts pocket and pulled out a foil pack of pills. “I took this from the room where they held me.”
Jack straightened in alarm. “What did they do to you?” She seemed all right, but he knew about hidden wounds.
“Tied me up.” She shrugged. “I managed to get loose, and I threw a rock at the guy they left to look after me.”
Shit, she’d even escaped by herself. Why did she need him around if she could rescue herself? “We have enough to make life difficult for Mahoney,” he said finally.
“Good. Let’s go.”
“I need clothes.”
Emma surveyed him with a long, leisurely gaze then bared her teeth in a wide grin of unholy delight. “Does this happen a lot? I mean you look pretty without clothes but doesn’t it get a little cold?”
Jack reached over to stroke her cheek. “Not if I have a willing woman to keep me warm.”
“I won’t share.” Her eyes narrowed in warning. “I expect you to conc
entrate on me. No other women.”
“Other women?” Jack didn’t mind admitting it—he was having trouble keeping up with her today. She wasn’t reacting how he thought she should. In other words, she was confusing the hell out of him.
“We are getting married. Right?”
“You haven’t told me you love me.” Jack didn’t have to pretend confusion. Marriage? With Emma? The idea didn’t scare him as it would have a week ago. In fact, the more he thought about it, the better the notion sounded.
Marriage and Emma.
That would mean no one else could steal her away.
“You silly man.” Emma’s blue eyes were full of laughter and something else. Tenderness. Caring. Her expression made him hope for a future and maybe children. “Jack Sullivan, I have loved you for months. Haven’t you noticed that women fall over themselves to go out with you? Why wouldn’t I want you? Come on. If we don’t hurry, we’ll have to spend another night outdoors.” She stood and held a hand out for him to take. “You need clothes.”
“I have a friend who lives not far from here. He’ll help us, and we can report to George.”
“Great. I hope he has food.” Emma couldn’t believe Jack didn’t know how she felt about him. He grasped her hand and tugged until she fell against his naked chest. His eyes glittered as he stared at her and her heart thudded with sensual awareness. Oh, yeah. She loved him like crazy.
A taniwha.
It didn’t matter. Living with a man who changed into a less than pretty dragon worked for her since the sex was great. Hot. Mind-blowing. Awesome. In fact, it made her hot just thinking about touching him. As she’d come to know him more her liking and respect had grown. She grinned as another thought occurred. Was that why George and the rest of his operatives appeared exhausted at certain times of the month?
“I love you, Jack.” Emma pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.
He hugged her and deepened the kiss.
Flight of Dragons Page 89
