Olivia visibly cringed when he smiled and little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t exactly built like a football player - all meaty muscles - like she preferred in a man, instead his body screamed tall, lean and strong. She could easily see him as an avid swimmer or basketball player considering his impressive height.
When her eyes moved back up toward his, he dipped his head as if in courtesy.
“May I take that as a yes?” he asked, the corners of his mouth tilting up as he smiled. Olivia opened her mouth to, no doubt, insult him but stopped short when she spotted the four little pearly whites that all but confirmed the man wasn’t merely human.
Fangs.
He had four fangs. Instead of normal canine teeth, like all humans have, his were slightly longer and very pointy.
“No,” Olivia denied. “You may not.” She then turned her attention back to the President.
“Sir, permission to speak freely?” she prompted and then cleared her throat of the profanities that burned to spew forth. She had to remind herself - several times in fact - that she was in the presence of the best of the best and the leader of the free world.
The President smiled and gave her a curt nod.
“You may Master Sergeant,”
“Just what in the holy hell is going on here?” she demanded. “Who is this man and why is he proposing to me?” she added with a nod at Jaxen.
A collective gasp resounded throughout the room and the man seated to Olivia’s right murmured something under his breath. She didn’t catch all of it, merely the “unreasonable female, should have never let them serve,” propaganda she’d faced all her career. She almost chuckled in spite of the anger and confusion seizing her. The men wanted to scream, rant and rave about women and their “feminism,” but who was the first person they’d thrown on this particular chopping block?
The woman. Why? She turned angry eyes on Jaxen and sneered. Apparently because she was the one with the adequate parts to handle the situation.
“Olivia,” the President coaxed her attention back to him by using her given name and not her hard-won rank. She didn’t take offense, she merely accepted the compliment in the air it was given. The President was serious enough to acknowledge her by her name, the least she could do was be civil...for the moment.
“It appears as though a history lesson is on today’s agenda,” Jaxen observed and flashed a tooth grin at Olivia. “Perhaps I may be so bold as to offer that lesson?” He slid his gaze to the President and waited for permission before taking the vacant seat opposite Olivia.
He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, clearly asking if she were ready.
“Oh, by all means,” she snapped. “I’m all ears.”
He smiled again and Olivia inwardly groaned when her feminine genes wiggled in response. She resigned to giving herself a bold, mental lashing later for daring to react to such a barbaric creature.
“Eons ago,” Jaxen stated. “The world as you and millions of others know it, was very different than the way it has been perceived by historians. Humans aren’t the only beings inhabiting this planet...” he trailed off and chuckled when he caught Olivia glaring at him. Of course her first thought had been that this man was a lunatic if he were talking about aliens.
“No, I’m not talking about beings from outer space,” he confirmed her suspicions and she wondered if he’d read her mind. Deciding to leave nothing to fate, she monitored her thoughts carefully lest he could. “I’m talking about paranormal creatures: angels, demons, vampires, were-animals, shifters and of course my kind; dragons.”
“Dragons?” Olivia repeated drolly.
“Those are merely a few,” he added as if she weren’t staring at him like he’d sprouted two heads and a forked tongue. “There are many, many more being discovered as we speak. But anyway, the dragons were among some of the first inhabitants of this planet. There are four factions, or I’ll call them ‘tribes’ for your benefit. One tribe for each element: earth, air, fire and water. Are you with me so far?” he asked.
Although her eyes had glazed over in a red-hot rage, Olivia pressed her lips together so tightly she feared they would crack and nodded her head instead of responding verbally. She feared what would happen if she opened her mouth. This was all some crazy dream or haze tactic and it was best just to let it run its course. She’d suffer the indignity of the situation with her head held high.
“Good,” Jaxen quipped with a pleased smile. “Each tribe has a leader who’s known as the Prince. I am Prince Jaxen Monroe, leader of Earth Elementals. I am the sole leader and Alpha, my reign is absolute,” he added the last part with a low trace of threat and she wondered who’d dared question this man’s claim.
“And you proposed to me because?” Olivia asked, not realizing until the moment she’d spoken that she truly wanted an answer. She couldn’t deny an animalistic attraction to the man, but yet she sensed something wasn’t quite right with this whole situation. His whole ludicrous story was just a work of fiction.
Jaxen slid his gaze back to the President who answered with a deep sigh. After a few moments of silence, he nodded at Jaxen to proceed.
“The High Council - our kind’s board of directors, as it were - have decreed that each tribe leader take a mate in order to replenish our ranks. Dragons are all but extinct.”
Olivia heard the man, quite clearly, and yet she said nothing for a few minutes. Even though every eye in the room was nervously shifting from her to the Jaxen to the President, she couldn’t fathom when the joke would come out.
“Olivia,” the President prompted her attention. “I would like to say that this is a request but that wouldn’t be the truth. After sharing our enlisted military personnel DNA database with Mr. Monroe, you’re the only one who can successfully carry out this mission. And it is that; a mission. These are your orders Master Sergeant.” His eyes narrowed in a hardened glare. “You are under a direct order to accompany Mr. Monroe to his estate and remain there until the mating ceremony can be arranged.”
Olivia’s heart stopped, her vision dimmed and suddenly the floor rushed up to greet her like a long-lost lover.
Chapter Four
Jaxen shot the man to Olivia’s right a murderous glare and lurched from his chair when his soon-to-be-mate slid bonelessly to the floor.
“Trust me son.” The old man smirked and placed the tranquilizer gun on the table before him in plain sight. “It’s for the best. That woman is one hellcat even I wouldn’t tangle with.”
“I appreciate your concern Admiral,” Jaxen said through gritted teeth. “But I assure you, your actions were entirely unnecessary.” A sudden urge to strangle the man until his eyeballs popped from his square head bombarded Jax but he stomped it down and set his attention on the one thing he came for.
He knelt beside the woman’s prone body and then scooped her into his arms. Although large for a human female, he found her absolutely ravishing. He wished he could reach up and free her auburn locks from the severe military bun but was content to merely cradle her gently to his chest.
The moment the President had ordered her to throw herself on the sacrificial alter, her clear blue eyes widened so much, they looked like a turbulent sea midst a storm. Blues and greens of all shades collided, fighting for domination. Thick, black eyelashes fanned her high cheekbones and even slackened in oblivion, her lips were simply plump slivers of kissable skin.
That was just a few seconds before the old war-monger had popped her with the tranq dart.
He tilted his head this way and that, studying her in detail for the first time. He liked that she was healthy, some would even have called her fat, but not him. No, he liked his women strong and healthy. Her size was a testament to her strength and in that one moment, as he stared down at her unconscious form, he knew he just found his mate. His forever.
“Are you absolutely sure she’s the one?” a rumbling male voice called from the other end of the table.
Jaxen looked up
and stared down at the man. An elderly man, probably late sixties with a white buzz cut and severe iron-starched Army uniform scowled back at him.
“Yes General Adkins,” the President answered. “Her DNA was flagged when she enlisted. She’s not full human, her DNA shows a forty-percent match to Mr. Monroe’s sample. She’s a hybrid; almost one-half dragon.”
Jaxen looked back down at Olivia. This time he noticed the light smattering of freckles brushing across her upper cheeks and nose. She had fair skin, but if he looked deeply enough, he saw the glow no one else could. The aura of ‘other.’ Relief hit him like a tidal wave and it took all his strength to keep himself still instead of crashing to the floor with her.
He’d found her.
He’d found his mate and the savior of his tribe.
But could he subject her to a life she neither knew existed nor wanted for herself?
Once he’d taken some time and thought about the High Council’s orders, he’d realized they had a point. Including all four factions, only twenty or so dragons still survived. If they wanted a continued existence, the time for drastic measures had come.
Which was why when Samuel suggested Jax contact an old war buddy his, Jax had reluctantly done so. Samuel’s friend had then initiated Project Fallout, a centuries old organization formed shortly after the birth of man. Their primary function was to ensure the prolonged survival of all races of creatures. Within minutes of Jax’s conversation with the anonymous man, he’d gotten a call from the President of the United States.
Apparently the President did indeed have a Book of Secrets and Project Fallout was an entry he’d been apprised of as the military had a secret database that cataloged all foreign DNA when a soldier enlisted. As he’d listened to the President’s explanation of their procedures, Jax’s head had spun. He didn’t care how they did it, all that mattered was that he found a mate.
As an added incentive, the High Council had ordered that any leader who refused or failed to take a mate would be usurped and killed. Jax rather preferred to keep his head and his life, hence his current situation.
“Maybe you should take her to your estate before she regains consciousness?” General Adkins suggested, interrupting Jax’s frantic mind.
“Yes,” Jaxen agreed. “Perhaps it is for the best that she be home when she awakens.” His chest seized at the word “home” and the thought of her being there with him.
Chapter Five
Olivia came awake with a start and moaned as the pain in her head overrun every other body ache. She sat up and with eyes still pressed tightly closed, she reached up to massage her temples. She’d suffered from chronic headaches all her life, the gentle finger massage was usually the best way to alleviate the pain. Aside from narcotics, it was the best she could do and remain conscious to attend her duties.
It wasn’t until she realized the sunlight streamed in from her left instead of the right, that she recalled the crazy dream of dragons and direct orders to marry a dragon prince. Squinting her eyes, she pried them gently open and studied the room. She didn’t remember getting home or in bed. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember much of anything from the day before.
Had she blacked-out? Had she crashed at the barracks?
“I apologize for your discomfort My Lady,” a gentle British-accented voice called from across the room, prompted Olivia to bolt from the bed, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. She frowned when the short, balding man stepped through the open doorway carrying a tray with some fancy teapot and cups. “I am Samuel and I am here to see to any needs you should have.”
He sat the tray on the chest at the foot of the bed and stood back with his hands clasped behind his back; apparently awaiting her orders.
“Where the hell am I?” Olivia demanded and winced as the pain in her head ratcheted another notch.
The older man smiled and bowed in a formal fashion.
“You are at the Monroe Estate, My Lady,” he informed her softly. “My Lord brought you in last night. He says that I should tell you that it wasn’t him who sedated you but someone by the name of Admiral Johnson. He also says to please make yourself at home, the mating ceremony isn’t until midnight.”
Mating ceremony? Olivia’s heart stuttered once and she sat heavily on the side of the bed before he legs gave away. It was real? The crazy dream, the dragon prince, the President’s direct order to marry? What alternate universe had she dropped into?
She remembered the man, Jaxen Monroe, and his participation in this farce. She needed to talk to him, she decided suddenly. Her gaze went to where the small man still stood and another pain shot through her skull. Maybe she needed an aspirin first, then a conversation.
“Samuel?” Olivia prompted and the man smiled with a nod. “I need three aspirin and a meeting with Mr. Monroe, in that order please,” she demanded politely.
“Of course, My Lady,” Samuel agreed but shifted from one foot to another almost nervously.
“Is there a problem?” Olivia asked, doing her best to temper the authoritative demand in her voice. She’d adopted it early in her career, it held the perfect combination of “don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-make-you-do-a-thousand-push-ups” and “I’m-not-your-moma-but-you-will-listen-to-me.” The commanding air worked on her soldiers, but this man wasn’t under her command and therefore deserved a mediocre amount of respect.
The corners of Samuel’s mouth curved and he cleared his throat lightly before gesturing toward her.
“Perhaps My Lady would like to dress first?” he suggested and Olivia’s eyes immediately fell to her lap where she realized - in horror - that she wore nothing but an over-sized white t-shirt and her panties.
“Where the frick are my clothes and who undressed me?” she screeched uncharacteristically.
“My Lady -”
“Call me Olivia or Livy,” Olivia uninterrupted Samuel. “Just stop with the ‘My Lady’ nonsense.”
“My apologies, ma’am,” Samuel murmured softly. “But it’s impossible for me to address you in such an informal manner.”
“What about Miss Livy?” she asked. “Will that work?” Somehow she didn’t think ‘Master Sergeant’ would be acceptable either. She wasn’t in a military setting and she idly wondered if she ever would again. Had her entire life just shifted wildly out of balance? Had she really wasted her entire life training for something she’d so easily be snatched out of?
“Of course,” Samuel agreed with a smile and nodded happily. “Yes, ‘Miss Livy,’ that is acceptable. My Lord took the liberty of removing your uniform so as not to damage it. It’s been cleaned, pressed and hung in your closet. There are other clothes in there for you as well, should you not require the military uniform. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get your medicine and let My Lord know you seek an audience.” With a curt bow, he backed out of the room, leaving Olivia fuming in both anger and denial.
She waited until she was sure she was alone and then stalked over to the closet. Wrenching the maple-colored french doors open, she studied the closet contents with a critical eye. It wasn’t necessarily a large, walk-in, but it was roomy enough to accommodate a tall, six-drawer dresser nestled neatly among the rack. True to Samuel’s word, her dress uniform hung neatly in the center, encased in a clear, plastic cover to protect it from dust and such. However, surrounding it were other articles of clothing ranging anywhere from jeans and t-shirts to dress slacks and cashmere sweaters. She reached in and began shifting through them, shocked when she saw her size on each tag. How had he known her size? It wasn’t as if she were a universal six two. Fourteen and sixteen tall were difficult sizes to find straight off the rack.
She usually had to special order her clothing from a big and tall store. But apparently Mr. Monroe had better connections. She selected a pair of soft, dark denim jeans and an emerald green, long-sleeved t-shirt.
She rummaged through a few drawers until she found some socks and searched the floor until she found a pair of white tennis shoes - yet again, in her s
ize.
By the time Samuel had returned, she was fully dressed, auburn hair tamed in a high ponytail and temper on full, rolling boil.
She curbed her tongue and decided that instead of shooting the messenger, she’d just wait and devour the source.
She followed Samuel through a few winding halls and corridors, not taking the time to marvel over the exquisite interior of the estate. Her mind wasn’t on polished, marble floors or beautiful wood ceilings.
They stopped directly outside a large, wooden door sporting a large outline of a dragon’s head. Its mouth was open in full roar fashion and mock flames were carved in the wood around it. Samuel knocked curtly and waited until a voice from within called out before pushing open the door, proceeding her into the large, cavernous office.
Two walls were lined in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a large fireplace nestled among the ones on the right wall. Four large windows faced out over the estate grounds and the man himself sat behind a massive desk, his back facing the windows. He stared intently at the screen of his desktop computer, his fingers deftly flying across the keyboard. Without looking up, he waved a hand to dismiss Samuel and gesture Olivia to sit in one of the cushy chairs facing the desk.
Instead, Olivia turned and sat in one of the leather chairs situated before the fireplace. She didn’t miss the way Mr. Monroe’s mouth curved in a comical smirk at her small defiance. She might have been ordered to marry the man, but nobody demanded she allow him to boss her around.
Although no one had lit a fire, the area still radiated that cozy air and Olivia soon found herself relaxing despite of her situation and anger.
Chapter Six
Jax studied Olivia from the corner of his eyes. Pure, unfiltered rage rose off her like steam. He could only imagine the thoughts and feelings coursing through her mind and body. She’d lived her entire life subjected to a narrow band of beliefs and now within a matter of hours he’d managed to tear it all down with flick of his wrist or swipe of his tail.
Fake Fiancé Next Door_A Small Town Romance Page 54
