by Starla Night
And she knew his.
She crossed her arms. “What are you doing here? This is a restricted campus.”
He smiled disarmingly. “You’re looking teacher-ish.”
“I am a teacher.”
His gentle fingers caressed the tendrils that had escaped from her sensible bun, lingering by her pearl earring. “It looks good on you.”
Need twisted need between her thighs.
She squeezed them together. “What do you want, Pyro?”
“I wanted to see you.”
Another wave of heat flooded her. His rough voice rasped and his words caressed her like liquid sex. Rough and fearless masculinity. He wouldn’t run from administrators or change his lessons. Carefree, his true self filled her with longing.
But that wasn’t smart.
“Here I am.” She tightened her elbows. “Now what?”
“Now, we dance.”
He stepped forward, catching her by surprise, and lifted her onto her toes. His hands made two solid brands on her thick waist. He moved her effortlessly, humming an unrecognizable tune as he floated her around the courtyard.
In another life, she might have laughed. Giggles bubbled up inside.
He’d come to see her. He liked her. He teased and danced with her.
She’s nobody I care about.
And here he was.
His hard thighs caressed hers. His abdomen pressed against hers. His commanding grip was firm and powerful.
Campus security guards rustled nearby.
She was an idiot. Getting excited for silly reasons when she should be getting nervous about the rapidly approaching trouble. Security could detain him. She’d have to explain his presence to administration. He’d probably fly off, abandoning her once more.
“Seriously, Pyro.”
She fought to keep the smile off her face. Oh, she couldn’t help it! Despite everything he’d done, he was a hot guy teasing and dancing with her. Hot guys just didn’t do that. Even though she knew he was bad news, she couldn’t quell her excitement.
She must be a masochist. “Why are you here?”
“You didn’t come to the bar yesterday.”
No. No, she hadn’t. She tightened her arms. “And?”
“I need your help.”
Excitement thrilled through her. A hot, desirable, dragon shifter needed her help.
No, no, no. He’d needed her help before. Boy had she helped him.
“Help breaking into another rival’s warehouse?” she asked cynically.
He stopped and gripped her shoulders to look directly into her eyes. “Amy, I truly regret what I did to you the other night. Sard Carnelian stole our ideas and kidnapped a treasured friend. He will never be brought to justice. I used you to gain access to his building in a way that I could not and take revenge. This abused your trust. I apologize.”
Her hurt feelings abated. “You said I was a nobody, and you didn’t care about me.”
“I don’t remember that.” His lids half-lowered. “I remember our kiss.”
She flushed with heat. She remembered that, too. In intimate detail. “It was when we were cornered by Syenite and the other dragons.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Those words had nothing to do with you.”
“It was the worst night of my life.”
“I know.” His sincerity shone in the mesmerizing red and brown threads of his irises. “Can you forgive me?”
She shouldn’t. She really, really shouldn’t.
The dark blue flash of uniforms trooping down the cobblestone walk said their private time was over.
“What kind of help do you need?” she asked, already knowing she would try to help him.
“I have to marry a human female or risk being married to the Empress.” He rested his finger under her chin. “The human woman I wish to marry is you.”
Chapter Nine
Shock and then hunger reflected in Amy’s sweet, forgiving eyes. He was her obsession and temptation just like he’d been for hundreds of other women. She’d go off with him. Do whatever he wanted. Marry him.
She just needed a little push.
“Say yes,” he pushed.
She licked her lips and tucked her loosened hair behind her ears. Her gaze flashed behind him at the noises of humans stomping on the stone. “This is sudden.”
“You know my situation.”
“Why me?”
“Because you know me.” He nuzzled her. She smelled so good, like flowers and feminine arousal. “You know all about me. Come away with me now to Las Vegas.”
“Vegas!” She jerked back. Unhappiness marred her features. “Vegas is … people drink on the streets and gamble. It’s not a good place.”
“It’s a great place. Marry me.”
She blinked. “I can’t.”
Of course she could. “Why not?”
“I don’t have any clothes, anything ready—”
“I’ll take care of that.”
“And I, um, can’t.”
“Amy—”
“I can’t talk now.” She pushed him back a step. Worry fought with determination. “I have to finish teaching the afternoon’s classes.”
“Forget classes.”
She snorted as if he’d made a funny joke. “I have to go. You have to go. Security guards are coming.”
His scales shivered under his skin, crackling for a fight. “Let them.”
“No! This is a very elegant school, Pyro. And you will only raise the wrong kind of questions.”
He cracked his knuckles. “I don’t mind answering.”
“You cannot jeopardize my job. Go.” She pushed him. “I’ll meet you.”
The urge to tease her fought with the self-preservation to take off and make her happy. He lifted off. “Tonight.”
“Tonight!” She waved and turned to meet the trio of guards. “Hi. Sorry about the disruption. My friend was unaware of school rules.”
Friend.
The guards looked around, never bothering to glance up as Pyro hovered barely over their heads.
She knew and wiggled her eyebrows at him to go.
“Visitors need to be announced at the main office,” the lead guard said, his voice full of censure. “No exceptions.”
“I know. I told him. He only dropped by for a moment.”
“No exceptions.”
“It won’t happen again. I promise you.”
The guard leaned forward. “We don’t tolerate deviations from the rules here.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“No deviations. You have my word.” She eased into the building, basically running from the guards, until they finally backed off. Her last glare at Pyro was filled with warning.
Eh. Fine.
Pyro flew from the school.
It irritated him that she had to basically apologize for his existence. Such was the lot of a low-class dragon. Aristocrats did as they liked. Lower caste got out of the way. Apologized for living. Endured the worst.
It wasn’t that different, whether human or dragon.
On the other hand, look at how easily he’d earned her forgiveness. A few sweet words, heartfelt promises, and she was back to swooning with arousal.
Amy wasn’t hurt by the warehouse incident. Probably she’d gotten an offer from Sard out of it. He couldn’t trust her.
But he also couldn’t stop the curling hope that he was wrong. That she was different.
And, dammit, that was the whole reason he was angry to begin with.
He killed time with Darcy while he waited for school to get out.
“Tired of your stalker?” Darcy rested on a stool facing the loud sports bar. His dark beer sweated against the coaster. “We finally changed locations.”
Pyro tossed back his whiskey in one gulp. The fiery amber liquid burned his throat. “I’m marrying her.”
“Congratulations. Where’s my invitation?”
“I’ll
send you a postcard.”
“Lame.” Darcy smiled into his drink while Pyro ordered his third shot in the hour. “I am glad, though. You finally found the right woman.”
A sliver of unease curled around his spine. Darcy would pity him again if he confessed that no, he was just taking the first offer to make his siblings happy. He tightened his grip on his shot and said nothing.
They talked about other things until Darcy had to leave, and then Pyro finished his drink and pushed back from the bar. Reaching for his leather jacket, he slid his hands into the pockets and felt paper.
Notes. Invitations. Offers to take his mind off the long night, the empty apartment, and tomorrow.
He crumpled them.
Why couldn’t he stop his secret hope that there was more to life than just pain? That someday, he would meet Darcy’s “right woman” and find the love he had always been denied?
That Amy might just possibly be that woman?
No. He couldn’t even hope for such a thing. That was way too dangerous.
He dumped the notes unread into his glass and headed out. Not home. Not a louder bar, a more desperate clientele, an armload of women intrigued by his alien attributes and all too willing to “try him out” for a night.
To Amy.
His cock pulsed.
Probably because he hadn’t slept with her. Once he slept with her, he’d get over this weird fascination. She’d reveal her avarice, just like the others, and disappoint him once and for all.
If she didn’t…
No, she would. Keeping a hold of this belief protected him when it happened. That protection was the only way he’d survive.
She was just stepping foot off the school grounds and getting into the passenger’s seat of a white Mercedes when he landed in front of her. “Amy.”
“Pyro!”
“School’s out.”
She hugged her bag to her chest. “Um, I was thinking we’d meet at home.”
He stepped forward. “Why wait?”
Her lips parted. The flush of hunger and scent of arousal made his own cock clench. She might protest but he knew the truth. He had her. Right where he wanted her.
“Amy?” The driver, an older woman, leaned across the wide seat. “Who’s this?”
“A f-friend.” She tucked her hair behind her ears as she looked between the two of them, flustered. “Don’t worry, Corrine. He’ll give me a ride home.”
“Are you sure?” Corrine’s gaze raked him head to toe, and her expression pinched. She clearly disliked him on sight. “I’ve never heard of this ‘friend’ before.”
“It’s fine. Sorry. Thanks.” Amy closed the door, sealing Corrine inside, and strode to Pyro.
He pulled her to his chest and flew into the air, taking her breath away and keeping it.
“You stuttered,” he noted, stern.
“Well, I didn’t know what to call you.”
Irritation surfaced. It wasn’t the first time a person he’d liked or trusted had struggled to introduce him as someone who mattered. “Oh?”
“You proposed, but I didn’t say yes, but that’s more than a friend, and we’ve kissed, so yes, I didn’t know what to say.”
Her flustered self eased the tension knotting his shoulders. “So make it easy. Say yes.”
“But I hardly know you.”
“You stalked me for weeks.”
“One week. And that was different, and I already apologized for invading your privacy.”
He twirled them in the air, oriented on their destination, but flying more gently than their last wild ride. “What are you so afraid of?”
She bit her lip. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Why would I make fun of you?”
Her eyes darkened. She shrugged and rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m nothing like the women you normally date.”
“That makes you special.”
“Why?” She squinted at him with worry. “Why am I special?”
He was stuck for an answer. The lines he used without thinking failed and he was forced to confront her very real, very honest question. “Because you asked that question. And because you are.”
She didn’t look reassured. “You tricked me once before. How can I ever trust you again?”
A stripe of pain lashed his heart.
He hardened. “You’ve got no choice but to trust me. Or don’t. Tell me right now whether you want to go or whether you want me to drop you right here.”
She rested her hand on his shoulder, under the leather jacket. Her cold fingers branded his skin.
Their shadows were the only thing that moved on the desert wilderness below.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Decide.”
“Are you really going to drop me in the middle of nowhere if I say no?”
An angry part of him wanted to say yes. He’d do it. Just drop her. Since she thought that’s the kind of jerk he was, he’d prove it to her.
The other, more intentional part gnashed its teeth. “Just say yes or no.”
“Can we just…”
He tightened, preparing for her answer.
“Can we just go on a date?” Her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleamed with hopeful liquid. “Like, out to dinner; maybe see a movie, grab dessert. We can talk. Be awkward like everyone else. You know?”
“A date?”
“A normal, ordinary date.”
He picked up the speed. “We can do whatever you want.”
“Great.” She relaxed in his arms and was suddenly much more delicious to squeeze against his hard body. He snugged her closer. His jaw brushed her ear. Her breath caught.
Oh yes. He could enjoy this.
“Um, where are we?” she asked. “It looks like Eastern Washington.”
“Somewhere over Idaho.”
She gasped. “Where are you going?”
“My house.”
“But … I mean, where do you live?”
“The top of the Stratosphere.” In the vast distance, the outline of the Strip appeared. “Las Vegas.”
Chapter Ten
Las Vegas. Nevada.
“We’re not in Oregon?” Amy squeaked. Her voice was ripped away by the sonic forces of their crazy flight. “We’re in another state?”
The pilot of her new misadventure grinned. “You got it.”
God. He’d tricked her again. She’d thought they were going on an ordinary date in Portland and he’d let her believe it. He wasn’t even sorry.
“I don’t want to…” go to Vegas.
Amy cut off her protest because it was a lie. Her heart thumped with the force of her longing.
She wanted to go to Vegas. She’d always wanted to go to Vegas. Now, she was going with a crazy hot male who made the most outlandish action logical. Her world was turning upside down. And it was possible, just possible, that if she stayed around him a little longer, he would bestow upon her one more mind-blowing kiss.
Which didn’t happen to a girl like her. She’d been so surprised during their first kiss that she’d forgotten to really experience it. A mistake she would not repeat. Kisses from a male like Pyro needed to be hoarded. Meticulously collected like rare, beautiful specimens. Pinned to a board. Treasured and savored over the long, lonely nights she’d inevitably spend alone.
Especially once he came to his senses and realized he was nuts for proposing to her. He had hundreds of women. Thousands. And walking around Vega near scantily clad, gorgeous showgirls would remind him exactly how much Amy didn’t measure up.
So, she should enjoy this as long as she possibly could. Every part of it. Every little bit.
But she couldn’t help pointing out, “My highly organized life has been chaos ever since you walked into it.”
He laughed. “You’re welcome.”
They passed the borders of the scrub desert and descended on the city of impulses and urges. Sin City. Her city of dreams.
Her parents’ city of nightmar
es.
The last big fight she’d had with them was when her high school band had taken a performance trip to Las Vegas. Plans to stroll around the fake streets of the Paris eating a croissant, sail little gondolas through the Venetian, and watch the musical fountains cascade at the high-class Bellagio shattered with their final, unalterable refusal.
“But Las Vegas is like visiting the whole world in one city,” she’d begged. “I’ll never ask for another trip in my whole life. I swear.”
“Vegas is no place for kids,” her dad had said sternly, repeating her mother’s refusal word for word.
“But I’m almost an adult! And just because someone else makes bad choices doesn’t mean I’m going to. Please? I’ll be so responsible.”
Her parents had put both feet down and stomped. Their vocal disapproval had almost cost her bandmates the trip, too, which had isolated her even more. She quit band early to focus on college admissions.
Now, Pyro floated her over the city that symbolized every dangerous sin her parents had ever tried to protect her from. She squinted into the hot desert winds to drink in the shining gemstones. From up here, it looked innocent and pretty.
“Can you slow down?” she asked.
He did, giving her a helicopter view rather than the sonic rocket.
She picked out the dark pyramid of the Luxor, castle turrets of the Excalibur, the rollercoaster around the skyscrapers of the New York, New York, and the shining Eiffel Tower of the Paris. These hotels smooshed together like the monuments of the world had been plucked from their origins and dumped into one little patch in the middle of a vast, empty desert.
Far to the south gaped the Grand Canyon, another trip she’d never gotten to take because it was too dangerously close to the city of greed and bad choices.
Live a little.
She gripped onto her crazy hot dragon alien and lived.
He flew for the narrow silver tower at the far end of the Strip standing alone like a rocket ship to the future. As they approached, a second, smaller disc appeared above the tower in sharp relief.
Pyro aimed at the second silver disc. In the center, a small portal opened. He descended into a silver shaft. Blue and purple lights blinked along the inner walls. He landed on the bottom and a door slid open.
