by Anna Lowe
Her eyes sparkled, and she licked her lips, making him sick.
Oh, I like that, she purred into his mind. A man who knows what he wants.
Marco bared his teeth. Only Olivia could mistake disgust for desire.
I know what I don’t want. You.
She chuckled. And yet, you’re still touching me. Oh, please don’t stop. On the contrary, querido. Hold on nice and hard. That’s something I learned from Enrico. A little pain only makes life more exhilarating, don’t you agree?
Marco dropped her hand and stepped away. You make me sick.
He’d seen pain — real pain — in a dozen war-torn regions around the globe. Physical pain, and worse, emotional pain. He’d seen mothers sobbing in grief. He’d witnessed grown men weep at the destruction of a lifetime of honest labor, and children who couldn’t muster the energy for tears at all, because they knew it was no use.
Pain wasn’t a plaything. And neither was power.
“Yes, Marco,” Duarte piped up. “How long do you intend to stay? As I understand it, you and Senhorita Sampao departed Lisbon in quite a hurry.”
“Ah, yes. The beautiful American.” Olivia’s voice dropped. “Word travels fast. I’ve been away, but I hear you and she have been extremely…busy. I must get to know her.”
“Yes,” Luigi agreed. “I hear the young lady is new to shifting, but she has great…potential.” His eyes slid to Duarte, who nodded slyly.
Olivia shot them both a sharp look, and their faces became masks.
Marco’s blood ran cold. Laura had a hell of a lot of potential. She also had a spelled gem that had been handed down through generations, and a gorgeous, coppery hide when she shifted. All the signs of a Fire Maiden.
He studied Luigi closely. How much did he know? The man was a Lombardi, a clan as desperate to find a Fire Maiden as the Guardians of Lisbon. Whoever controlled the Fire Maiden controlled the city.
Or the island, his dragon growled.
Marco looked out the window. Madeira slumbered in splendid isolation, and its dragons were more concerned with maintaining sovereignty than extending their power. But to outsiders like the Lombardis, Madeira could provide an initial toehold — and a convenient stepping stone to Europe. Lisbon was within striking distance, as Marco and Laura had proven in their long, overnight flight. The Lombardis could start in Madeira, seize Lisbon, and eventually, take measures to broaden their reach toward Spain, France, and beyond.
He caught himself there. Was that farfetched, or was it exactly what the Lombardis were thinking?
If so, he doubted they would entrust their plan to Luigi, who was too much like Duarte — young, brash, and more concerned with his own interests than the family’s.
Which meant what, exactly?
Marco backed slowly toward the door, suddenly desperate to get to Laura. Whatever was going on, he had to get her away from these three.
“Yes.” Olivia nodded sagely. “That’s what I hear as well. Senhorita Sampao has great potential.”
Marco made a show of shaking his head. “She’s coming along — slowly. But potential? Hardly. She’s been practicing for weeks, yet she can barely land.” It hurt to insult Laura’s efforts like that, but Olivia could smell a lie a mile away, so he had to stick close to the truth to be convincing.
“And yet you choose to train her.” Olivia flashed a naughty smile. “Or are you making the most of her other talents?”
Duarte snickered, and Luigi licked his lips.
Marco glared at Olivia. “Leave it to you to think of using anyone for personal gain. But then again, you know nothing of honor.”
“And you do?” Duarte challenged.
Olivia laughed. “Marco has his own notions of honor.”
He spun. What the hell was she suggesting?
Olivia arched one perfectly penciled-in eyebrow. “You’ve inherited a seat among the Guardians, yet you refuse to serve on that sage group.”
Her tone made a mockery of sage group, as did her haughty bearing.
“Those seats should be earned, not inherited,” Marco shot back.
“And what exactly are you doing to earn it? From what I hear, you’ve been keeping to yourself ever since you got back from playing soldier.”
The last thin threads of Marco’s control snapped, and he stalked up to Olivia so quickly, her eyes flashed in a rare hint of fear.
“War isn’t a game, and soldiers don’t play,” he hissed, gripping her upper arm in warning.
A mistake, because her eyes lit up with interest, then open desire. She put a hand on his cheek and stroked softly.
“My, my. Did I hit a nerve, querido?”
It took everything Marco had not to hurl her across the room. The painful truth was, she had hit a nerve. The guiding principle of his life ever since he’d left the Foreign Legion was not to get involved. What was the honor in that?
On the other hand, the Guardians of Lisbon were hardly an inspiring vehicle through which to change the world for the better. His cousin Cornelia was proof of that.
He found himself gripping Olivia’s arm harder and harder, wishing she would cry out in pain. Then he let up, repulsed by his own anger. A good soldier never let anger guide his actions. Never.
Releasing Olivia — practically thrusting her away, in fact — he turned to give Duarte and Luigi a final glare of warning.
Whatever you two are plotting, forget it, he let his burning eyes shout. Then he stalked to the door. The moment he opened it, the noise of the party washed in, and people turned, curious. Marco fought the urge to slam the study door behind him. Instead, he zeroed in on Laura, and the moment their eyes met—
His blood rushed, then settled, and the protective stones he’d surrounded his heart with wobbled, one by one.
Forcing himself to take measured steps, he crossed the ballroom. Everyone on Madeira knew he’d once been engaged to Olivia, and half the guests had to have been eagerly watching the study door for some hint of a scandal. Well, they weren’t going to get one. He would be calm, collected, and completely unaffected by the encounter.
Or fake it, at least.
“Is everything okay?” Laura touched his arm.
His heart rate settled at the contact, though he knew they weren’t safe yet.
“Yes. No.” He shook his head, not sure what to say. Finally, he took Laura’s arm and nodded to Finn. “I’ve had enough of this party. How about you?”
Olivia appeared at the study door, watching them closely. She ran a hand up the doorframe and curved her hip to the side in a come-hither pose Marco ignored. Duarte appeared behind her with a smirk.
Laura tensed, then murmured in Marco’s ear. “I suppose it wouldn’t be good etiquette to spit fire at another guest?”
Marco chuckled in spite of himself. “Unfortunately not.”
Laura looped her arm through his. “In that case, let’s go. I’ve had enough too.”
Like Marco, Laura kept her eyes straight ahead as they whisked out the front door. Finn brought up the rear, looking menacing.
“Kind of a pity,” Laura whispered.
Marco cocked his head.
“I was hoping for a second dance,” she added.
He laughed out loud, and the sound carried back into the house, giving him an unexpected sense of satisfaction. “Me too. Rain check?”
Laura nodded firmly. “Rain check.”
For a moment, his soul lifted. Maybe the world wasn’t as dark and gloomy as it felt.
But then Olivia stepped to the doorway behind them. He didn’t turn to look, but he could feel her eyes on his back.
Até a próxima, Olivia purred, letting the words carry into his mind. See you soon.
Marco scowled. God, he hoped not.
Chapter Thirteen
Laura, like Marco, didn’t say a word throughout the long, winding drive home. He seemed to need the silence, and she didn’t want to pry. And anyway, she’d seen — and heard — enough.
What Dona Leonor ha
dn’t filled her in on, Paloma did. Olivia was Marco’s ex-fiancée, but she’d left him for a man three times her age — Dom Enrico, one of the richest dragons on Madeira.
“What Enrico was thinking, nobody knows.” Dona Leonor had shaken her head sadly.
Paloma had grimaced. “What Olivia wants, she gets. Marco was lucky to get away while he could.”
Dona Leonor smiled at Laura. “A good thing, too. He finally found his true mate.”
Laura had paled at her words. Who?
But Dona Leonor’s eyes had sparkled. You, my dear. You.
For a moment, Laura couldn’t move, though her dragon didn’t hesitate. Of course he’s our mate.
Deep down, she knew it. But what exactly did one say to that at a cocktail party?
In the end, she didn’t have to, because Paloma went on with more juicy details about Olivia. There’d been countless affairs…scandals…attempts to grab power…
No wonder Marco had hardened with hate at the sight of her.
“I swear the entire island exhales every time she leaves,” Paloma finished, then sighed. “Sometimes, I hate how old-fashioned Madeira is. The men have all the power. But knowing Olivia, that’s a good thing.”
Laura’s new friends also filled her in on Duarte and the Lombardis. She couldn’t blame Marco for looking so furious when he’d exited the study.
Marco shifted gears, and the Land Rover spun around another tight corner. Without thinking, Laura placed one hand on his knee and the other on her gem. She’d never seen Marco so worked up before, but the contact seemed to help him calm down.
Finn and Adriano followed closely, then turned off where the driveway to Marco’s property split. While Adriano and Finn continued one hundred meters to the garage, Marco parked outside the house. It was late, and everyone had agreed to call it a night.
Or so Laura thought. But when she and Marco stepped from the car, they both paused and looked out.
“Gorgeous,” she whispered, taking in the view.
The vineyard extended downslope, where Finn flicked on a light in the guesthouse. Beyond that, the hillside fell away to the sea, an indigo expanse that glittered under the light of a quarter moon.
Laura tipped her head back, taking in the cloudless sky. Marco did too, and their hands brushed.
She held her breath. Over the past days, something had shifted between them, and their dance had been the culmination of all that. Every move Marco made, she’d matched effortlessly, and they had complemented each other perfectly. Of course, Marco had sparked crazy desires in her from day one, but that was a purely physical thing. Now, she wanted him even more — a desire that stemmed not just from her body, but her soul.
She was his, and he was hers. They were mates. Even if she didn’t know all the details of what that meant, she felt it deep in her bones, the way she’d learned to sense the wind or the points of the compass.
Heat rushed through her veins, and fantasies rushed through her mind. She turned to Marco, suddenly burning for a kiss. He turned at the same time, and their eyes met.
Her lips moved. Marco bent, and she was sure that would be it. Finally, they would kiss…touch…surrender to the instincts that had hounded them for days.
They leaned closer…closer…
Yes, her dragon hummed. Yes…
Marco’s eyes glowed with warmth and need, but a hint of anger and bitterness remained — vestiges of his encounter with Olivia. At the last possible second, he hesitated. Laura did too.
Marco put his hands on her shoulders and tipped his forehead against hers. “I want this. More than you know. But right now…”
She closed her eyes. “Still too worked up, huh?”
He cupped her cheek and nodded slowly, so she sighed and pointed to the sky. “All right, then. Go fly. That will help, right?”
He looked at her. “What about you?”
She shook her head. “I can see the appeal. But flying — and crash-landing — is not my idea of relaxation. The pool, on the other hand…”
He squeezed her hands. “You don’t mind if I go?”
Truthfully, she much preferred him heading to the pool with her. But Marco had been on his own for years, and if he needed some space to clear his mind, she could live with that.
“As long as you come back.”
He brushed a finger over her lips. “Of course, I’ll come back.”
Words were one thing, but Marco sealed his promise with an out-of-nowhere kiss that made her toes curl. His lips were hard yet soft at the same time, his grip on her shoulders tight.
I promise I’ll come back, his dragon whispered into her mind.
She moved her lips under his, then drew back and motioned to the sky.
Marco cocked his head. “Getting rid of me so soon?”
“The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back, right?”
He laughed, and the sound cut over the chirp of crickets.
“I promise I will.”
She puffed a breath upward, trying to cool herself off. Then she gave him a little push. “All right, then. Enjoy your flight.”
He stood looking at her, eyes glowing brighter than ever. For a moment, Laura hoped he might ax the idea of a flight. But then he turned, and with one last, You’re amazing glance, he headed for the edge of the property. The darkness swallowed him up immediately, and a moment later, the rusty hinges of the side gate squeaked. Bushes rustled, and she pictured Marco shedding his clothes as he walked. Minutes later, she caught the sound of footsteps over the rocky outcrop at the edge of the vineyard. A wave of energy zipped through the air, and the footsteps gave way to the scrape of claws. She pictured a mighty dragon crouching, extending his wings, and—
A sudden whoosh silenced the crickets, and a massive shadow swooped into the sky. Laura watched, fascinated, as Marco circled the property twice then headed out to sea. She nearly pinched herself, too.
Dragons. Shifters. It was hard to believe, but it was all true.
For a while, she strained to follow his movements in the darkness. Finally, she sighed and rubbed her arms.
Maybe we should fly too, her dragon tried.
She shook her head. No way. Not when she could float in the pool.
She walked around the house and stood at the tiled edge of the water, then looked up toward her room. If only the bathing suit Inés had helped her choose were closer.
No one around, her dragon pointed out.
She looked left then right. No, she couldn’t possibly strip out here.
Then again, why not? Finn was down in the guesthouse, and Adriano and Inés kept to their own quarters in a cozy cottage on the other side of the property.
Laura reached for the hem of her dress, then paused, looking around. Then she worked up her nerve to pull off her clothes. Tossing them aside, she dipped a toe into the pool and giggled. Was she really going to skinny-dip in Marco’s pool?
Well, yes. Yes, she would.
She slipped into the water, dunked, and surfaced with a little gasp. The water was refreshingly chilly, so she swam a few quick laps. Then she floated on her back, gazing at the stars, letting her mind wander.
All those universes, so far away. So peaceful — at least from a distance.
She exhaled slowly. That was like the shifter world. Once upon a time, she’d been fascinated by the stories in her family. But the more she got personally involved, the scarier it was.
Of course, it wasn’t all bad, as Finn had pointed out. He, Adriano, and Inés proved there were kind, grounded shifter folk, and not every shifter at the ball had been the scheming, power-hungry kind.
Especially not Marco, her inner dragon murmured.
She closed her eyes, thinking it over. Who could blame Marco for turning his back on the world he’d grown up in?
Turning his back on Olivia, her inner dragon huffed.
The thought made Laura vacillate between anger and pride. The little she’d seen of Olivia confirmed what Paloma had said. Olivia was
a manipulative, conniving bitch. But Marco had openly rejected Olivia’s advances — along with the advances of every other woman at the ball — to dance with Laura. His hands had remained firm around hers, and when their eyes locked, his sparkled in wonder.
A shot of warmth circulated through her veins, and her cheeks heated.
“Mates,” she whispered to the stars. Could it really be?
She spent the next few minutes mulling it over, wishing she could call her brother. He didn’t know much about dragons, but he knew a lot more about love than she did. She’d never dated seriously, having never really felt sparks around anyone.
Until she’d met Marco.
She exhaled slowly, then dunked to cool off. As she surfaced, a shadow swept through the moonlight above, and leaves rustled with an out-of-nowhere gust of wind. Laura sniffed the air, suddenly on guard.
Then she laughed at herself. She was behaving more like a shifter all the time. And that was Marco coming in for a landing, not a foe.
She paddled to the edge of the pool and looked toward the garden gate. Sure enough, Marco appeared moments later, his hair disheveled as usual after a shift. She smiled. Not even Mr. Perfect could be perfect all the time.
He’s not perfect, her dragon whispered. That’s what I love about him.
She exhaled slowly, trying not to get carried away. So they’d survived several close calls over the past few days. It didn’t mean they had a future together.
Her dragon snorted. Of course we do.
Laura cleared her throat, partly to dismiss that dangerous train of thought, and also to tell Marco she was there. The last thing she needed was to catch a fire-breathing dragon by surprise.
“Hey,” she called softly when the garden gate squeaked.
When Marco looked up, his eyes shone in the dark. “Hey.”
Moonlight glistened off his bare chest and abs, while the shadows hid the rest of him — and thank goodness, what with him naked after shifting.
Then she remembered — she was naked too.
Convenient, her dragon hummed.
Dammit, did the stupid beast think of anything other than sex?
She did her best to keep cool. “Good flight?”
