by Mary Abshire
Confused, she opened her eyes. Light from the windows spilled into the room from behind sheers. She looked around and recognized she was laying in Marcel’s bedroom. Leaning forward, she braced her elbows on the bed. A towel containing something wet lay on the bed beside her. Pillows elevated her bare leg and foot. Bandages covered her ankle and up near her calf. Memories returned of Marcel and the doctor.
Hearing a sigh, she looked beside her. Marcel slept on his side. He wore jeans and a white t-shirt. One of his hands was inches from touching her. His thick hair looked as if he hadn’t combed it in days. Light brown stubble covered the lower half of his face. The cute dragon was damn sexy. She fought the desire to touch his face and kiss him. Maybe he needed to rest after the long night he’d had.
Gently, she sat upright and slid her legs off the bed. She noticed a band aid in the middle of her arm instead of tape holding a clear tube. She also noticed a long black t-shirt covering her body. Her bra had been removed and when she lifted the shirt, she was wearing a pair of pink underwear, not the blue ones she’d worn earlier. She wondered who had changed her, but it was an easy guess. In the grand scheme of things, she didn’t care if Marcel had seen her naked. She had bigger issues to deal with, and, in her heart, she knew he would never take advantage of her.
With a deep breath, she carefully rose from the bed, making sure to put most of her weight onto her good leg. The bed didn’t move much. She took a glimpse at Marcel. He continued sleeping undisturbed. Slowly, she put pressure on her right foot. The ache in her leg spread, but it was nothing like the pain she’d felt earlier.
She took one small step after another, staying close to the bed in case her leg hurt too much and she needed to sit. Her injury protested, but she refused to stop. Her bladder needed to be released.
She made it past the bedpost and continued to the bathroom. Along the way, her stomach growled. Not just growled, it howled loud enough to wake the dead. She hoped it hadn’t disturbed Marcel.
With a sigh of relief, she reached the bathroom. As she turned to close the door, she checked on Marcel. He hadn’t moved from his side. Quietly, she shut the door.
As quickly and quietly as she could, she did her business and then washed her hands. The reflection in the mirror was not a pretty one. Once again, her frizzy and tangled hair gave her the perfect Halloween look. Leaning against the counter with most of her weight on her good leg, she combed her hair. The small brush snagged near the ends of her locks several times, but she eventually worked it through. Once she’d finished, she brushed her teeth.
Feeling rested and overall decent, she lifted the shirt to check on her stitches and the scratches. As she’d suspected, the lines across her abdomen were a light pink and were barely noticeable. She pried the taped bandage from her side. The stitches appeared unbroken and her skin seemed to be healing. She’d always been a quick healer. Her mom used to tell her she got that ability from her dad. Satisfied with the results, she returned the bandage. If her leg healed quickly, too, she’d have little trouble walking around at the wedding.
Lynn quietly opened the door. To her surprise, Marcel sat on the small bench at the end of the bed. He rose as she stepped from the bathroom.
“How are you feeling?” He hurried toward her.
“Much better.”
He stopped at her right side, took hold of her wrist, bent slightly, and then swung her arm over his shoulder. He slid his other arm across her back. “Lean on me.”
“It’s not so bad,” she said, hobbling to the bed. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did earlier. I’m sure some aspirin will help.”
He positioned her on the side of the bed before he let go of her. “You should stay off it for a while so it can heal.”
She sat on the bed and sighed. “I appreciate how you want to help me, but I really do feel much better. I’ve always healed quickly from any injury.”
He stood in front of her. “I noticed your scratches were almost gone and the other wound seems to be healing quickly.”
“Did you change me? I mean, my clothes?”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I did. Your clothes were soaking wet.” He swallowed hard. “I tried not to look too much, but…” He lightly shrugged.
Grinning, she said, “I’m sure you’ve seen a naked woman before. I’m not much different, so don’t sweat it. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I guess you have.”
Her stomach made a loud gurgling noise. She chuckled as she slapped a hand on her abdomen. “Guess I’m a bit hungry. How long was I asleep?”
He backed up to the windows and pushed aside a sheer. As he gazed outside, he said, “I’d say seven, maybe eight hours from the time the doctor gave you a shot.” He let the sheer fall back in place as he approached her.
“That long? What time is it?” She looked for a clock on the nightstand. Of course, he didn’t have one and his phone wasn’t there either.
“I’d say about two in the afternoon. I can check.” He started to walk away.
“I’m going with you.”
She rose and limped to the bedpost. Staying in bed was not an option. The library had been a mess when she’d left it. She needed to know about her car to figure out if she had to find another way to get to Montreal. Connie would want to talk to her.
“You shouldn’t be walking around,” Marcel said, returning to her side.
She shooed him back with one hand. “I need to move around. I have things to do.”
“What things?” He stopped in front of her, blocking her.
She tossed her hands. “Where’s my car? Can it be fixed?”
“Shepherd left late this morning to tow it back here. I’ll check it when he drops it off. He should be back in a little while.”
It was good to know he’d made arrangements. Maybe by nightfall she’d know for sure if it could be repaired.
“The library is a mess,” she said.
“And I have most of it cleaned up.” He took hold of her arms and tenderly backed her up to the bed. “I called your friend, Connie, too.”
“You did?” She sat on the edge of the mattress.
“Yes. You have to call her and let her know I’m not a murderer or kidnapper. She was very demanding.”
Lynn smiled. “She’s concerned, that’s all.”
“I understood that. I am too. And I have to know…” He took a deep breath. “I have to know that you’re okay.”
She looked down at her bandaged leg. It throbbed lightly.
“I could use some aspirin,” she said.
“I’ll get some for you. I’m concerned about…what you think. About me and the others.”
Confusion began to creep into her mind. It seemed odd he’d ask about her thoughts toward him and his friends. “I think you’re a great guy. Shepherd is nice, too. I’m not sure about Demetri since I didn’t get to talk to him much.”
He ran a hand through his hair and paced in front of her. “You’ve been through more than…” He stopped and faced her. “Well, more than most supernatural creatures. We live peacefully here. Once in a while there’s trouble. I’m afraid you ran into it.”
“Kind of like being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
He nodded as he stepped closer. “I know you said before you wanted to keep your memories, but after last night…I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. The option is still available if it will make you happy and feel safe.“
Realization came to her as she listened to his words. He was truly concerned about her.
“Nothing’s changed. I’m going to keep your secret. As much as I’d like to forget about that naked man and the werewolves…” She shook her head. “I’d prefer to keep my memories. You showed up as my knight to save me. You killed the big bad wolves.”
“Demetri actually saved you, not me.”
“So he’s a good guy, too. I don’t ever want to forget what you two did for me. There wi
ll always be bad memories in life, but there are at least twice as many good ones. I’m not changing my mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A smile formed on his face. “Are you sure—“
She stood. “I’m one-hundred and fifty percent sure.” She stepped closer to him. “And you know what else I’m sure of?”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure I have some kind of supernatural blood in me. I found dragon bloodlines in a book. Families came here from France. Your family name was mentioned as one of them.”
He nodded. “My parents told me their grandparents had moved here from France. They didn’t live at this location, but they had a home on the reserve. My parents didn’t leave France until they knew it was safe to come to the Western world.”
“We need to look at the property owner records. Maybe my grandparents descended from a dragon bloodline.”
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth and cheek. “Let’s go tomorrow. That will give you more time to rest and me time to look at your car later.”
She tossed her arms gently at her sides as she looked around the room. She was tired of sitting in bed and resting. She needed to move around or do something, but as the throb in her leg continued, she realized maybe she shouldn’t put too much pressure on it. Although she could heal quickly, she could get better results by taking care of her injuries and not making them worse.
Her stomach yelled again. Of course, he’d heard it too and tried to hide his amusement by looking away.
“Okay, we’ll go tomorrow, but I’m not staying in bed. I’m hungry and I’d like to try to find that book with the bloodlines,” she said.
“I’ll fix you something to eat and you can sit on one of the stools or in the main room on the sofa.”
“I’d like that. You are a really good cook, by the way.”
Smiling, he moved closer to her. “I enjoy cooking for you.”
He took hold of her wrist again, bent, and curled her arm behind his neck. As she took her next breath, he lifted her off the ground.
She locked her hands around his neck. “You know, a girl like me could get used to this…being carried…having food cooked…”
“If it makes you happy, it makes me happy, too.”
Smiling, she leaned against him as he carried her from the room. For the first time in her life, she was happy with a man. Not just any man. A dragon. She wanted to remember every minute with him. But she had to wonder if she was running into a relationship too fast. Was he doing the same thing? Would their happiness last?
The thought of getting closer to him frightened her. She wanted a more intimate relationship, but what if it didn’t work out? And if she couldn’t prove she had a connection to any supernatural creature, would his feelings for her change? She had a fifty-fifty chance at having a connection.
With a deep breath, she pushed her doubts and fears aside. Time would soon tell where they were headed.
Chapter Eighteen
“You don’t have to do that, Shep,” Marcel said into the phone, holding it to his ear. He stood in front of the tall windows in the main room, gazing outside. A large stretch of ground was scorched from when he’d shot fire at the werewolves.
“It’s no trouble at all. The younger ones need to learn how to fix cars. This will give them a chance to learn,” Shep said. “It won’t cost you anything.”
Marcel didn’t mind paying them. In fact, he approved of the idea of them working on Lynn’s car. It allowed him to spend more time with her.
“If you need money for parts—“
“That I’m not sure about yet. I’ll get back to you about that,” Shepherd said.
“Where are you now?”
“Heading toward town. I’m about forty-five minutes away. It’ll take another twenty to get the car to the shop. It took longer than we thought trying to get that chain off the tires and then put on the spares. We’re going pretty slow, too.”
“I appreciate your help with her car. If you can let me know how long you think it might take to fix it, I’ll let her know so we can decide the next steps.”
“I honestly don’t know how difficult it will be or how long it will take to fix it. Cars aren’t my specialty. I’ll be by with your Jeep after we drop off her car.”
“Take your time. We’ll be here.”
Hearing soft taps on the stairs, he turned to face the staircase. Lynn leaned on the rail as she limped down each step. Her wavy hair looked damp and combed, not that he minded her untamed locks. She wore a pink shirt and gray pair of pajama pants. After they’d eaten and cleaned the dishes, she’d gone upstairs to take a bath. He’d taken a quick shower in the spare bathroom, shaved, and had thrown on a clean pair of jeans and white button-down, which he’d left unbuttoned.
“It might be a couple more hours before I stop by,” Shep said.
“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.” Marcel lowered the phone and ended the call.
Lynn headed toward him. “Who will you see later?”
“Shepherd. He’s taking your car into his town so the kids in training can look at it and try to fix it. He’ll be by with my Jeep later.” He set the phone on the small table in front of the sofa.
She reached the other side of the sofa and took a seat. “That’s very nice of him, but will it take them long? I’ll need to leave by tomorrow night at the latest to ensure I make it to the wedding.”
“He’s not sure, but don’t worry. I can take you into the town outside the reserve and put you on a small plane to Montreal if the car can’t be repaired. It’s not a long flight from here.”
He sat in the recliner near between the fireplace and windows. A touch of sadness crept through him. He didn’t want to think about her leaving.
She stretched her legs over the cushions. “Flying might be expensive. If they can repair my car, I can still drive to Montreal in time.”
“I can pay for your ticket.”
Her brows twitched. “No, I wouldn’t allow it. You’ve done plenty for me already.”
“Money isn’t an issue for me.” Especially when it concerned her.
“Still, I won’t let you pay for a ticket. Is there a rental car company in the town?”
“I think so.” An idea came to him. “But why bother with a rental when I could drive you to Montreal?”
She stared at him. “Are you sure you’d want to do that?”
He smiled and gave a single nod. “It would give me more time to get to know you, and I haven’t been to Montreal in years. A little vacation might do me some good.”
Her lips curved up. “I can pay for gas.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“You’re only going because of me, so yeah, I think it is.”
He tapped the armrest with one of his hands. “Then it’s settled. If your car can’t be fixed in time, I’ll drive you to Montreal.”
Still grinning, she shifted her attention to the window. Slowly, the joyful look drained from her face. “I’m sorry about your beautiful yard.”
“It’s nothing compared to you.”
The words had flown from his mouth. While he’d meant them, he didn’t want her to think he was flirting. He wanted to flirt, but the timing didn’t seem right.
Her gaze lowered to his chest. He glanced down at his open shirt.
“Did you find your drawing pad?” she asked. “I’d set it on your desk in the library. Oh, I should clean up the room.” She slid her legs off the sofa.
He rose to stop her. “There isn’t much left to clean. Why don’t you rest here? Watch some television or something. The remote is on the table.” He pointed.
“I’m not letting you clean the room by yourself. I’m responsible for the mess.” She stood.
He appreciated her eagerness to help, but she needed to stay off her leg. He quickly tried to think of an idea to get her to stay seated.
“I’ll stay out here with you. The room can wait,” he said as he moved closer to her side of the
sofa. “I can get my pad and sketch another picture of you.”
She sighed. “I know what you’re doing. You want me to sit and rest.”
“Well, it is important.” He’d thought his idea would work, but now he wondered what other options he could use. “If you prefer to watch television—“
“Do you have a studio here?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Where is it? I didn’t see it upstairs.”
He gestured toward the hall. “Past the library. The last door on the left.”
“Show me your studio and I’ll sit down for a bit so you can draw me.”
Stunned by her offer, he lacked words to say. She’d sit and he could draw her. It was a win-win for both of them.
“Okay,” he said.
She started heading for the hall.
“I can carry you,” he said, following her.
“No thanks. I’m good.”
He hated seeing her limp. The way she walked indicated her leg must have still felt tender.
“How’s the pain?” he asked.
“Not so bad since I took those aspirin. It’s sore, but I’ll be fine.”
She stopped outside the closed door and waited for him.
He paused in front of the door with his hand on the handle. The last time he’d been in to do some work had been almost a week ago. He’d painted two pieces for an art gallery and left them to dry. He’d meant to return and clean, but he’d gotten busy with the garden and then with Lynn. His studio was the one place he failed to keep tidy.
“I should warn you, it’s a bit of a mess. That’s why I keep the door shut,” he said.
“Art studios reflect a busy artist.”
“Do you have friends who are artists?”
“No I just made that up.”
He chuckled and opened the door. He loved her sense of humor.
“It sounded good, though. Didn’t it?” she asked.
He strode to the middle of the room and then stopped. With wide eyes, she scanned the area from left to right as she entered. The room almost matched the size of the library. On the smaller wall to the left, the most recent paintings sat on easels. Spilled paint had stained the white sheets underneath the pictures. Various paint cans sat on the sheets. At least he’d remembered to cover the cans. Blankets and sheets hid most of the antique settee in the corner. Other photos and drawings leaned against the long wall with windows. He had two other easels set up on the right. To the left of the door, two long rectangular wood tables held various art supplies. A recliner in the corner faced the long wall. Curtained windows on the right blocked the view to the porch. Sunlight brightened the room since he hadn’t closed any of the curtains along the long wall.
