Fake Fiancé Next Door_A Small Town Romance

by Piper Sullivan

Damien had similar fantasies, but they’d all died the night she’d been violently ripped from his arms. He remembered the events so clearly it was almost as if it had happened yesterday.

  After his father’s guards seized Jazz and dragged her away from Damien, he’d turned on his father with murder on his mind. He’d gotten a few good blows in on the old man before the guards subdued him, but his father’s bloody lip and bruised jaw managed to calm him some.

  He’d then gone in search of Jazz, only to learn she’d quickly been whisked away. He’d seen the corpses of her parents and he’d hurt for her. His father had made it abundantly clear that the Prince Heir would never see the betrayers’ daughter again. And the ruthless Dragon had been true to his word.

  Which was why Damien couldn’t grasp the reality of seeing her in person again.

  “You wanted to talk,” Jazz quipped. “So talk.”

  Damien’s heart lurched once at the naughty thought that blossomed. He wanted much more than to merely talk. He wanted her. He craved her. And now that he was Crown Prince, he would damn well have her.

  He abandoned all pretenses and stalked toward her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. She had only seconds to register his intent but failed to head him off. He pounced her on the ledge, her beautiful legs still dangling over the edge of the moss-covered rock.

  Grabbing her by her healthy thighs, he spun her around and began tearing at her shorts. He called upon his inner dragon and used the elongated talons to rip the cotton material to shreds. Momentarily caught off-guard by the slip of pink lace shielding her womanly curls, he bent forward and liberated her of them by the nip of fangs.

  Once she lay bared from the waist down, he buried his face in her brunette bush and used his tongue to find her bud. He took the flesh between his teeth and quickly flicked his tongue across it, teasing a squeal from her. She buried her hands in his thick, black hair and immediately pushed at his head.

  But he refused to relent. Using his tongue, he laved at the juices flowing from her sweet spot and moaned deep in his throat. She tasted like the finest honey, fresh from the hive.

  “Damien!” she insisted, still pushing at him.

  He pulled away from her wet mound and licked his lips free of her juices.

  “You want me to stop?” he teased.

  She wiggled her plump ass in response and pulled at his head.

  “No, I want you inside me,” she snapped. “Now, Damien!”

  “Whatever the lady wants,” Damien yielded. “I’m all for giving you exactly what you need.” He released her hips and moved sinuously up her body, making sure to brush as tightly against her as humanly possible.

  Reaching down, he unclasped his shorts and made quick work of taking them off and tossing them to God knew where. His long, healthy shaft was ramrod straight, pulsing with a want and need untended in many, many years. He didn’t want her to know he was still a virgin; that he’d saved himself for his wedding night as well. He never wanted another woman the way he’d wanted her. Now, he would have her.

  With one quick thrust of his hips, his cock pushed past the dewy softness of her womanly lips, dragging a moan of ecstasy from both of them. She felt like heaven, hell and everything in between. Erotic, hot, moist and absolutely to die for. Her inner muscles clenched, working him from the inside. He pulled out and thrust back in with more force and in response she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled at his ass with her heels.

  “More,” she panted. “Give me more.” More than eager to please her, he grabbed her plump ass and shoved himself as far into her as he could. Her murmurs of approval told him he was on the right track, so he kept pumping into her as quickly as he could.

  Leaning down, he nipped at her neck with his blunt teeth. His tongue snaked out to lavish the rake marks. When it wasn’t enough, he scored her tender flesh with his blunt, human teeth and moaned as her blood rushed into his mouth. He refused to pause long enough and consider the ramifications of what he’d done.

  She bucked her hips, pulling his thoughts back to the more carnal event, her body meeting him thrust for thrust until both of them had reached that celestial peak. Their orgasms came at the same time and each screamed the others name, their voices mingling and echoing throughout the tropical atmosphere.

  Damien loosened his grip on her ass cheeks and collapsed on top of her, covering her sweat-sheened skin with his own. They both still wore their shirts, but it didn’t matter. He’d finally taken the woman his love. Although he’d drank from her, he hadn’t officially mated her, but they had nothing but time. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and sighed in contentment. He finally had his mate in his arms and he’d never again let her go. Not while he drew breath. He meant to make her his Princess and nobody would dare stop him.

  Jazz kept her arms wrapped snugly around Damien’s neck. She breathed slowly, willing her racing heart to slow down. For years she’d fantasized about being with him and now that it had finally happened, she didn’t know whether she felt satisfied or scared. Questions - so many ugly questions - filled her mind. Why had he come? Who was he taking as a mate? Why make love to her when he was on the cusp of marriage?

  Had he come to finally tell her ‘goodbye?’

  Suddenly a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach interrupted the whirling thoughts. In her mind’s eye she saw the tiny bud of light illuminate. Fitted safely within her womb, she saw the conception of her and Damien’s child like a new bud, loosening in its long journey to completeness. The revelation hit her like a freight train at full speed. She was pregnant. With one beautiful - yet careless - act, she’d potentially endangered all of their futures. The Prince’s new mate wouldn’t stand for another Dragoness carrying the Prince’s child.

  She shoved him off her and scrambled to her feet. Searching for her underwear and shorts, she gasped when she saw what he’d done to the latter. They were destroyed. She’d have to slink home in nothing but her shirt and panties. Hopefully Sera wouldn’t be around or she’d never hear the end of it.

  Mimicking her actions, Damien located his own clothing and hurriedly redressed. He wore a confused expression, but Jazz didn’t pause to explain. She couldn’t tell him. Not when he was on the verge of starting a new life. He’d feel obligated to marry her and she wouldn’t be a bride of circumstance; no matter how much she loved him and yearned for him. She refused to trap him.

  “Jazz?” he called softly as she headed toward the elephant ears. “What’s wrong?”

  She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. She knew that one glance into his moss green eyes and she’d spill her soul at his feet. He’d filled out very nicely in the time they’d been apart. Whereas he’d once been a tall, gangly teen-aged boy, he now wore muscles like most men wore their clothes.

  His broad shoulders flowed down to firm, rock-solid pecs and God, don’t get her started on the eight-pack abs that led to narrow hips. His long legs had filled out as well and she marveled at the mere strength he’d shown while he’d taken her so forcefully.

  Forcefully and completely.

  God, she felt the warmth of his seed as it slipped from her body and ran down her legs. No matter how badly she wanted to hate him, her body still reacted at being so close to him. Every ounce of her body told her to turn around and mount him like the stallion he was, but her hand automatically went to her stomach and she sobbed lightly.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “Damien, I can’t talk to you right now,” she informed him a bit louder.

  “Alright,” he conceded and she heard the disappointment in his voice. “I’ll come by Sera’s later this evening.” She heard his footfalls as he moved closer to her. He closed the distance until they stood back to chest. He leaned down and she shivered when his warm breath brushed across her exposed neck and ear.

  “You will talk to me then,” he ordered. “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  She felt a brush of wind and knew he was gone. Chancing a quick peek over her shou
lder, she sighed in relief when she saw that she was indeed alone. She immediately felt his absence like a hole in her heart. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she collapsed to the ground and wept with all the sorrow she’d bottled deeply inside her.

  Chapter Three

  She stayed crumpled on the ground so long she lost track of time. The sun had already made its way past noon and well into the afternoon. She wiped her gritty eyes and allowed the seductive call of the pool wash over her. Standing on shaky legs, she shed the rest of her clothing and dove into the cool, crisp water, dividing the surface with a fluid, swan-like motion.

  She allowed herself to sink to the bottom and doubled in on herself again. Her dragon begged for release; she wanted to emerge and play in the rippling water. But Jazz suppressed the change, knowing full well that once the dragon took over, she’d be powerless to reign it back in for a while. It would require time she didn’t have.

  Like a petulant child she emerged from the pond and searched out her remaining clothing. She briefly ran her hand through her short, brown curls and shook the excess droplets from it. Knowing the frizz was coming, she found her bandanna and re-wrapped it best as she could and headed off down the path toward home.

  She stopped cold in her tracks when a dark silhouette stepped from the cover of foliage, standing firmly in her way. She didn’t recognize the man, but she sensed the dragon shimmering beneath the surface. She opened her mouth to demand her let her pass, but a familiar voice floated toward her.

  “My, my, we’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t we?” it whispered. “He won’t be happy to hear about your tryst.”

  “Who is ‘he’ and why are you here?” she demanded and suddenly a blow to the back of her head rendered her unconscious.

  Damien paced the parlor’s marble-tiled floor, anxiety eating a hole in his stomach. It was well after nine p.m. and Jazz had yet to make an appearance. Sera had acted shocked to see him when he’d shown up earlier, but in her eye’s deep recesses, Damien saw a flicker of knowing that told him she’d expected him.

  She’d welcomed him into her home and lavished him with attention until he wanted to slit his own throat. After an hour of gibberish, he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask for Jazz.

  Sera had graciously excused herself to fetch the girl and never came back. He’d been alone ever since. That had been four hours ago. He’d fought the urge to leave; to head back to the pool and find her. He was fully prepared to drag her back to Sera’s kicking and screaming if need be. He’d make her talk to him if he had to camp out on her doorsteps until she broke down and heard him out.

  Now, a gnawing fear had taken root in his belly. Something was wrong, he could feel it. And when Sera stepped into the parlor doorway, he knew the stricken look on her face confirmed his fear.

  “What’s happened?” he demanded and closed the distance between them. At six-feet-six-inches tall, he towered over the Elder and he used his height to his full advantage. “Where is she?”

  Sera’s eyes filled with tears and a cold ball of steel bloomed in Damien’s stomach. Had something happened to Jazz? Was she dead? No, he refused to think such thoughts. He reached out and grabbed the woman’s upper arms and shook her gently. He used every ounce of self-control not to rattle her teeth.

  “Talk to me dammit!” he roared.

  “She’s, she’s - she’s gone,” Sera stammered between sniffles and sobs. “According to Bridget, Jazz never came back from her walk.” She raised her eyes to meet his dead on. “She never came back from your meeting.”

  Damien didn’t miss the accusatory glare and he growled low in his throat. The mere audacity of the woman angered him beyond belief.

  “I love her,” he admitted between gritted teeth. “I would never hurt her nor would I allow anyone else to.” He lowered his head until his eyes were level with hers. “I certainly don’t appreciate the doubt.” His voice rumbled with his dragon undertone. He knew his eyes had lit with emotion as his vision had changed. The Elder immediately bowed her head, whether in shame or fear, he couldn’t tell.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally admitted. “I’m just so afraid for her.” Her eyes rose to his once more. “She and Bridget are the only family I have. They are my daughters. It doesn’t matter whether Jazz is biologically mine or not, I’ve raised her,” she declared and squared her shoulders. Damien couldn’t help but admire her strength and spirit. She had been the one to whisk Jazz to safety all those years ago, so he owed her a great deal.

  Had the girl remained at the royal estate, Draken probably would’ve either had her killed or exiled. Considering their females were in short supply, exile would’ve been the more rational action.

  Damien released Sera’s arms and sighed heavily. Rubbing his hands together to keep them from trembling, he coughed to clear the rising fire in his throat. He winced when he realized how close to edge he’d been and with an Elder at that. As new Prince and heir to the Water Elementals, he couldn’t afford to alienate anyone, especially the dragons’ ruling council.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know you love her, I do too,” he admitted softly and tried not to welter when she pinned him with her best protective mom glare. He’d never met his own mother, but he knew from watching Jazz and her own all those years ago, the maternal instincts of the Dragoness was a potent and deadly thing. He could only imagine how far Sera would go to protect Jazz and Bridget.

  “I knew it,” Sera confessed, but not triumphantly. Her revelation was filled with resignation more than anything. “Is that why you came? Are you here to claim her as your mate?” she asked, peppering him with her excited questions.

  Damien only managed to nod the affirmative when he suddenly found himself enveloped in a very tight and very uncharacteristic embrace. He awkwardly patted Sera on the back.

  Sera pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Damien shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other; not really sure how to react to such a feminine action.

  Suddenly Sera’s eyes widened owlishly.

  “She thinks you’ve chosen someone else,” she blurted and set about pacing the parlor floor. “She may have run away,” she stated. “Then again, I can’t see Jazz running from anything. She’s the bravest woman I’ve ever met. I just don’t understand,” she mumbled as she paced.

  “Mother!” a young woman called and rushed in to join them. “Mother, we just received this,” she informed and shoved a gnarly sheet of paper into Sera’s hands.

  Damien’s gut seized with fear. Looking over the Elder’s shoulder, he instantly recognized the emblem adorning the letterhead.

  “That son-of-a-bitch,” Damien spat and turned toward the empty fireplace. He waited for Sera to finish reading the note, but knew what it said. He’d been afraid of this very thing the moment his father had died. It was why he’d taken so long before coming for Jazz. His faction was in upheaval, one dragon fighting another. They were like rabid dogs seeking out the weakest members.

  His father had been right all those years ago, there had been a coup in place. He was just wrong about Jazz’s parents being involved.

  “I can’t believe this!” Sera declared and turned on Damien. She waggled the note under his nose. “Did you know about this?”

  Damien steeled himself to tell Sera the truth whether she wanted to hear it or not.

  “I suspected a coup,” he confirmed. “The four factions are at war and Jazz isn’t the only one caught in the middle. I just never thought he’d be involved.”

  Chapter Four

  Jazz moaned at the fierce pain plaguing her head. It felt as if a mariachi band was playing at top volume inside her brain. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them when the blaring light threatened to burn them from her skull. Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and she realized her level of thirst. A Water Dragon couldn’t go very long without contact with their natural element.

  She wiggled until she was in a sitting position and looked down at her body. Thankfully
whoever had kidnapped her had thought to clothe her but she didn’t understand their choice of the white robe. It was a garment usually reserved for mating ceremonies and christenings.

  Her normally smooth skin had withered a bit and small, shiny scales had erupted to salvage the remaining water in her body. How long had she been here? Wherever here was, she amended.

  “Hello?” she called softly, coughing when her parched throat balked at the effort. “Somebody, please? I need water,” she pleaded.

  Creaky hinges heralded a door opening, the ear-splitting noises echoing repeatedly throughout what sounded like a very large, open ceiling room. Then footsteps approached her from behind. She pulled the lapel of her robe more tightly against her throat and bowed her head. She was scared, tired, thirsty and hungry. She wanted to go home but more than that, she wanted Damien. A light fluttering skittered throughout her womb, almost as if the baby shared her need for the Prince. Slowly and carefully so as not to draw attention, she slid her hand down to the small bump already protruding from her stomach.

  She suddenly wished she’d told Damien of the miracle they’d created. Has she thrown caution to the wind and just told him, she wouldn’t be in this situation now. She wasn’t afraid for her life, her terror was all for the small life growing inside of her. By all rights, the child was the legal heir to the Water Elemental throne. It didn’t matter if she and Damien were legally and completely mated or not.

  Illegitimacy didn’t exist among their kind. Just as their ceremonies and rituals for marriage wasn’t the same as the humans.

  Suddenly a bucket of barely-warm water hit the top of her head, washing over her like the heavy rush of a waterfall. She moaned as her body began pulling the life-saving droplets through her pores like a vacuum. Slowly, as if one at a time, the small opalescent scales receded leaving behind only lush, hydrated skin.

  By the time her body had finished regenerating, the robe had dried completely. Her short, curly hair still hung in limp spiraling strands, but for the most part she was a tad more comfortable.