Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

by Serena Meadows

  “Copy.”

  Radio silence followed as Kane had ordered only the bare minimum of conversation over the radios. No long transmissions, no casual conversations, no chance for the enemy to pick up on the fact that there were eyes watching the Russian Prime Minister and the North Korean President in Dubai.

  Drake eyed Neil and Jordan sipping coffee at a table across the lobby garbed as tourists, talking and laughing happily, while Kane and Taylor flirted with each other at yet another table further away. Ronan, Jude, and Jordan, off to one side from the males, talked intense business in their traditional Arab disguises.

  As far as Drake could tell, they blended in well with the arrivals and departures of hundreds of others at the Burj Khalifa. His eyes constantly studied the people at the front desk but had yet to see the one he sought. Focusing intently on a man who fit Snowman’s description, he relaxed upon seeing the woman and two children with him. No bodyguards.

  Then, suddenly, he was there.

  Drake stiffened, carefully watching the short, pudgy man who strolled through the doors with four men behind him. One matched Antonov’s description exactly. “Got him.”

  He received no answer. None of his friends looked toward Snowman, yet the lively discussions faltered for a moment. “Back to business, kids.”

  Neil and Jordan laughed once again even as Kane spent time kissing Taylor.

  Drake stood up, making a show of folding his newspaper precisely. “We’re on, girls,” he murmured. “Come along like nice little harem slaves.”

  “I am so gonna kick your ass,” Emily muttered as she and Daryl fell in behind him.

  “Ten feet.”

  “You shithead.”

  Drake chuckled to himself, carefully pacing Bobrovsky as he headed for the elevators, Antonov, and the bodyguards behind him. As though by accident, he entered the elevator at the same time, then held it so his women might also ride it up with him. He caught a sharp glance from Antonov, knew he was inspected from head to toe, then the elevator doors closed.

  Staring straight ahead, Drake listened to the muted conversation in Russian and suspected a real spy would know the language. Not that Bobrovsky would say anything important in an elevator, so he surmised knowing the language would be pointless.

  Sensing the guards’ attention on him, he memorized their faces from behind the dark glasses, not turning his head. When it appeared to them that he and his women were harmless, he felt their attention fade. Too bad it has to look like an accident or a disappearance. We could have killed them all right here and now.

  The car stopped near the top of the Burj Khalifa spire. Drake, Emily, and Daryl got off behind the Russians, yet turned to walk in the opposite direction down the long and opulent hallway.

  “Go,” Drake muttered.

  Daryl peeled away from him and Emily, following a short distance behind the Prime Minister and his people. He watched discreetly while pretending to enter a room, seeing Daryl pass the Russians by as Snowman put his card key in the lock.

  Then she was past them.

  The Russians entered a suite and closed the door, yet a bodyguard stood guard outside the room.

  Daryl rounded a corner and vanished from view for less than twenty seconds. She reappeared as an American tourist in cutoffs and a tank top. She wore sunglasses and her hair in a ponytail, with a pack on her back. The guard eyed her slim legs for a moment, then ignored her as she went to the elevators.

  “Snowman is home,” Drake reported.

  The guard seemed to not pay any heed to the quick radio transmission. Drake and Emily slipped back to the elevators as Daryl reached them and rode down in the car to the lobby in their company.

  “Got his room number,” she said with a grin.

  “Good job.”

  Drake and Emily quickly doffed their Muslim outfits and packed them into their backpacks. Just in case there were eyes in the lobby watching for potential assassins. Thus, three tourists in shorts and packs emerged from the elevators.

  Daryl relayed the room number to Kane and the others. “He has a man out front.”

  “Gear up for number two,” Kane ordered. “Ronan, you’re on deck.”

  “Copy.”

  Drake, Emily, and Daryl once again found places in the lobby to watch for the nasty and perverted North Korean dictator but knew he was not scheduled to arrive for another hour. For entertainment, Drake drank beer with his beautiful companions, flirting shamelessly.

  “Dude,” Ronan warned in his earpiece, “cool your jets or you’re dead meat.”

  Drake laughed. Daryl giggled and shot a glance across the lobby to where Ronan, in his Arab outfit, glared at them from behind his dark glasses.

  “Chill,” he murmured. “You know she’s safe with me.”

  “She’d better be, bro.”

  “Can it.” The order from Kane cracked across the radio waves. “Silence.”

  Snickering into his beer, Drake met Daryl’s humorous grin. “Your dragon is a jealous one.”

  “Knock it off,” Emily muttered. “You’d be pissed if Ronan flirted with me, so put yourself in his boots.”

  Drake lifted Emily’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Sorry, brother.”

  For answer, he received a low, threatening growl across the radio. He grinned, then took a drink of the strong local beer. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be inebriated enough to mess things up. Glancing around the huge lobby, he caught sight of five Asian men crossing the broad expanse.

  “I say, we have Nasty in sight,” he said into the radio. “Headed for the elevators.”

  “Shit,” Kane exclaimed. “They’re early, and, Ronan, you’re too far away. Drake and Emily, you’re up again.”

  “Copy.”

  Leaving Daryl at the table, Drake took Emily’s hand and followed President Moon and his entourage toward the elevators. None of the men spoke, yet one of the security detail turned to closely examine them as they waited for the car to arrive.

  Pretending to not see the man’s acute observation of himself and Emily, Drake smiled down and raised her hand to kiss. Emily giggled, leaning against him, her blue eyes wide and adoring. The man’s gaze then roamed over the lobby, hopefully determining that the couple in love was no threat to the North Korean dictator.

  Once again, Drake, his hand still in Emily’s, rode up to the upper floors of the world’s tallest building with men who would kill them both instantly if they guessed what he and Emily truly were. He didn’t need to play the smitten sot, as he already was, but as he held Emily close, nibbling on her neck, he covertly studied Nasty.

  Sure enough, the man didn’t bother to hide his distinctive half-moon shaped birthmark. He stood forth from his bodyguards, as though too arrogant to hide behind mere mortals. Rather than the uniform he wore in the photos Colonel Donovan showed them, he wore a suit coat with no tie, and plain gray trousers.

  His round face and glittering dark eyes slowly turned toward Drake, forcing Drake to quickly lower his. Yet, from his peripheral vision, he knew the North Korean dictator studied him for a moment before turning away again. Maybe our extravagant display of physical affection offends him.

  Drake laughed inwardly at the thought.

  Permitting Moon and his cohorts out first, he and Emily followed at a discreet distance, whispering together. Drake noted the room number the men disappeared into, ambled on by, and rounded the turn to vanish from the bodyguards’ sight.

  “They didn’t put a man out front,” Emily hissed as they quickly donned their traditional Arab garb taken from their packs.

  “That doesn’t mean they aren’t watching from the peepholes,” Drake responded, putting his dark glasses on. Then, with Emily striding ten paces behind him, he strolled casually back down the plush hallway to the elevators. “Nasty is home,” he said when they rode the elevator down.

  “Copy,” Kane replied. “Little birdies fly back to the nest.”

  “How can we be certain these guys will take the time to
rest up?” Emily asked. “They could start their meeting right away.”

  “First,” Kane replied, “we aren’t supposed to stop the meeting from happening. Once they’re dead, nothing they said to one another will matter. Second, if you were the Russian dictator, wouldn’t you want to be on your best before meeting with as dangerous a man as Nasty?”

  “I’d want to get past my jet lag,” Jordan said, watching Neil as he rubbed his stomach where he had been stabbed.

  “You okay, bro?” Kane obviously saw the movement, too, and frowned in concern.

  “Yeah, I’m still a bit sore.” Neil smiled. “No worries.”

  “If you aren’t up to the physical challenge, Neil, you need to let us know.”

  “I’m good, Kane, really,” Neil protested. “Tomorrow will be the big day, and I’ll be fully healed by then.”

  Kane nodded slowly. “But if you aren’t, speak up. We need to be aware of what’s going on.”

  “You will, I promise.”

  Drake eyed Neil’s complexion and grew troubled that Neil’s injury might let him down at a critical moment. Knowing Neil as he did, he’d not want to disappoint anyone and might push himself too hard.

  “The rooms our friends have taken,” Kane continued, “are as close to the top as possible. That, I think, will help us. They will have huge windows, and unless they draw the curtains, we can fly up there and take a peek.”

  “Is there anything on the side of the building we can cling to?” Drake asked. “The guards might look out and see us if we hover outside, even for the few wingbeats we can hover.”

  “I expect we’ll find out,” Kane replied. “I took a look out my window and saw only smooth metal.”

  “What are we girlfriends to do while you’re flying around out there?” Jordan asked.

  “Keep an eye on the elevators from the lobby,” Kane answered. “A couple of you in costume and a couple not. Follow our pals if they happen to leave. Neil and Jude will be with you, as I don’t think we need all five of us flying into one another. That spire up there is pretty narrow.”

  “But we can’t inform you,” Natalie said, “you won’t have your radios while you’re dragons.”

  “Right.” Kane paced as he pondered that dilemma.

  “Once you’ve taken your look-see,” Jude commented, “then switch back and plug your radio into your ear. Touch base and we’ll tell you what’s happening.”

  “Yeah,” Kane agreed. “Keep it simple.”

  “Do we need to keep watching them if they’re sleeping?” Drake asked.

  “This place is like Las Vegas,” Kane answered. “It never sleeps. But we don’t know when they might be on the move tomorrow unless we have someone watching them.”

  “Then, we’ll have to watch and catch our own sleep in turns.” Ronan glanced at Daryl beside him. “I volunteer to fly around through the night, keeping an eye on the front doors. If our pals leave before dawn, I’ll shift and follow.”

  “Then I’ll stay in the lobby,” Daryl added. “I’ll have my radio, so if they do leave, I can wake you, and join Ronan in following them.”

  “That’ll work,” Kane replied. “I am inclined to think they’ll do their business here in the Burj Khalifa, as going out is a huge security risk. But we can’t take the chance they’ll leave to meet elsewhere.”

  “We have to find out where they are going to meet,” Emily said, gazing around the room, her mouth tight. “We simply have to.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ronan

  Kane called a halt to the meeting a few hours later. “Ronan, you and Daryl get some sleep. You’ll be up most of the night, so get some rest while you can.”

  Ronan nodded and stood up, taking Daryl by the hand. “What time do you plan to fly tonight?”

  “Around eleven,” he replied. “We three will meet in the lobby, then head out to find a safe place to go dragon. Once we know what our friends are up to, we can make further plans.”

  “Got it.” Ronan grinned, waving at the others. “See you later.”

  “Remember, we can order room service, and it comes with the stay,” Kane added. “Don’t forget to eat.”

  “How can we?” Daryl asked, her tone pert.

  Kane rolled his eyes as Ronan took Daryl out of the suite and down the hall to their own room. “Are you hungry now?” he asked. “We can order something like he said.”

  Daryl smirked. “Yeah. I’m hungry for tube steak.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Ronan quirked his brow.

  “Why not? It’s been a while, and for the first time since the reunion, we have time.”

  Chuckling, Ronan pulled Daryl under his arm, close to his side. “Yeah, why not?”

  In the privacy of their room, Ronan closed the curtains, dimming the big suite. “We do have to get some sleep,” he commented as Daryl’s arms slid around his waist from behind.

  “We will,” she said softly.

  Ronan stood still as her small hands caressed his hard, flat belly, pulling his shirt up so she could touch his skin. Up and over his ribs, her fingers roamed, teasing his nipples lightly as her head rested between his shoulder blades.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” she whispered.

  “As much as I love you, I hope.”

  Turning around within the circle of her arms, Ronan swept her blonde locks away from her face and bent to kiss her. Daryl opened her mouth under the pressure of his lips, their tongues twisting together, entwined. His fingers delved into her hair, gripping her neck to slant his mouth against hers.

  Inside his jeans, his shaft swelled, heat building within his loins. Brushing his hips against Daryl’s only added to the pleasant ache, the throbbing growing as his need for her climbed. Still, he wanted to keep their lovemaking slow, tender, and loving.

  “You know you make me crazy when you do that,” Daryl murmured against his lips, “you make me so hot.”

  “You are hot, baby.” Ronan kissed her nose, her eyes, pulling on her hair to tilt her head back, nuzzling and licking her throat. “You’re mine, all mine.”

  “Then you’d better make me yours.” Daryl laughed. “Make me all yours.”

  “You got it.”

  Bending, Ronan picked her up easily and slung Daryl over his shoulder like a sack of beans. Laughing, Daryl spanked his ass with both hands as he carried her into the bedroom they shared. “Beast,” she cried happily.

  For answer, Ronan growled low in his throat, a long rumbling sound that made Daryl squeal in mock horror. He dumped her on the big bed, then pinned her to the mattress before she could wiggle away. “Gotcha.”

  “Ooohh,” she moaned, her hands beating on his shoulders. “What do you intend to do with me?”

  “Ravish your delectable body.”

  Burying his face at her neck, Ronan kissed and sucked until she cried out, this time in seriousness, “No hickies!”

  Ronan laughed and lifted himself up enough to look into her blue eyes. “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to advertise what we’re doing,” she replied, “not here, in Dubai. Who knows what these people might do if they see a mark on my neck.”

  “Most likely nothing at all,” Ronan replied, then kissed her lips. “But I’ll respect your wishes.”

  “They might arrest me or something.”

  “Not while I live and breathe.”

  Daryl slid her arms around his neck. “Thanks. Now, where were we?”

  “I was about to ravish you.”

  “Oh. Then ravish away.”

  Rolling half off of her, Ronan slid his hands up her body to pull her shirt off over her head. Her bra followed, and her breasts were freed for his enjoyment. He caressed and toyed with them, teasing her nipples until she moaned in pleasure. Like hard little stones, they grew erect as he put his tongue to them.

  Daryl’s fingers in his hair kept his face firmly against her flesh, his lips playing with one breast while his hand toyed with the other. Sliding his free hand down her r
ibs, across her flank to her hip, he tried to slip his fingers under her jeans, but they were too tight.

  “Okay, these have to come off,” he muttered thickly.

  “Yeah, they do.”

  Ronan lifted himself from her, and unbuttoned, then unzipped her jeans. Daryl helped by lifting her hips as he dragged them off of her, taking her panties with them. Tossing them aside, Ronan caressed her soft skin, admiring the perfection of her naked body.

  “Your turn.”

  Daryl sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. Kneeling on the bed while he stood, she unzipped his jeans and delved inside them. Her touch sent a small shock of intense pleasure through him as she toyed with his staff’s head. Growing impatient, Ronan tugged them off and kicked them aside.

  Fully naked, he lay down and pulled Daryl on top of him. Sharing a deep kiss, he caressed the silken flesh of her back down to her tight, round ass, then up again. Daryl spread her legs over his, inviting him to probe deeply between them. He found her wet, and soaked with her arousal.

  Daryl moaned. “Do me.”

  He plunged his fingers in and out of her, making certain she was ready to receive his thick, hard shaft, that he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt her when he took her. When Daryl’s body shivered under his ministrations, he knew it was time.

  Rolling her over, pinning her down, Ronan spread her thighs with his knees. He found the entrance to her wet mound, and he pushed hard. Daryl cried out, clutching him to her, digging her nails into his back. Pulling back, Ronan plunged in deeply again, her tight walls spreading under his invasion.

  Picking up speed, he thrust hard, panting, listening to her breathy moans in his ear, his pleasure building. Fire lit like an inferno in his shaft, spreading to his loins. Loving her body, loving her, her breasts hard against his chest, he felt her orgasm roll through her shuddering body.

  Uttering a near scream as she erupted, Daryl bucked her hips upward in time with his thrusts, deepening them, bringing his own explosion closer. He tried to hold it off, but his pleasure grew too great to push back. Groaning, he thrust in hard, deep, his rod spasming, his body shaking under the force of his orgasm.