Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection

by Lisa Daniels

  Or am I?

  The more she thought about their discussion at his penthouse, the more she realized how entirely odd it had been. Cypress had been convinced she was married to a very specific man, as if someone had given him information that had simply proven faulty. It wasn’t merely a delusion but a tailored illusion, one about a man of whom she had never heard.

  Who is this “Harold” and how does he tie into everything?

  In spite of her better judgment, Graciela decided to investigate further.

  Perhaps because her suspicions had already been inflamed about the forces surrounding Cypress, she couldn’t help but feel that there were other things at play here, matters she hadn’t yet considered.

  Her phone rang as she pulled her laptop onto the kitchen table and she eyed the unknown number reluctantly.

  Don’t answer it, a voice warned. You called into work. Just turn off the phone.

  But she couldn’t help but stare wistfully at the blocked caller, half-hoping it was Cypress.

  It was gut-wrenching being pulled in two completely different directions. The man she had spent the night with, the one who had pursued her, showed no indication of instability. It wasn’t until Sam Santos had come around that things had started to go sideways.

  The phone went silent and Graciela stared at the locked computer blankly for a few minutes.

  Is Cypress’ unstableness the reason that he’s not being chosen for good gigs anymore?

  But if that were the case, Graciela was sure she would have heard about it. Something like this was too juicy a rumor for the cruel in the industry to keep to themselves.

  The phone began to ring again and Graciela gritted her teeth as she snatched it up.

  “Graciela Kinrade.”

  “You bitch!”

  She recognized Rowan’s voice by now and stifled a sigh.

  “If you have a problem, Ms. Woods, I suggest you take it up with Evan Mathis. I’m not coming in today.”

  “I know what you did,” Rowan hissed. “And you’ll regret it.”

  She didn’t even bother to ask who had given the unruly singer her cell number.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ms. Woods,” Graciela said truthfully, having completely forgotten about contacting her agent the previous day. So much seemed to have happened between then and now.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Rowan growled. “You’re trying to have me kicked off the show. Well, it won’t work. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Oh. That.

  “Ms. Woods, I’m concerned about you,” Graciela sighed. “It was within my right to call your agent if you are violating your contract.”

  “You made a big mistake,” Rowan purred and her tone gave Graciela goosebumps. “You can’t win this.”

  “This isn’t a game, Ms. Woods,” Graciela snapped. “This is a production that needs to go seamlessly.”

  “You have no idea what’s at stake here. You’re treading on very thin ice, Graciela.”

  Annoyance laced with a twinge of fear spiraled through Graciela, but she refused to let Rowan know she was getting the best of her. Yet at the same time, she wondered about what Sam had told her about the incident between Rowan and Cypress when they had dated.

  You can’t believe anything this woman says… can you?

  The problem was, Graciela no longer knew who or what to believe. Everything had gone topsy-turvy in the span of hours, it seemed. There was nothing she could do but gather as much information as possible and see where that led her. Yet she held back.

  Isn’t this something I could find on TMZ? Do I really need to ask Rowan Woods about an incident from years ago? Would I trust her memory even if she was telling me the truth?

  Rowan had made it clear that she had set her sights on Cypress, a fact that still made Graciela’s stomach churn despite all that had happened. Maybe Rowan and Cypress deserved each other.

  Why am I having a difficult time accepting that?

  “Why so quiet, Graciela? Are you afraid?” Rowan jeered. “Because you should be.”

  “I’m hanging up now,” Graciela intoned. “Please don’t call this number again.”

  She disconnected the call before Rowan could say anything else and realized she was trembling.

  What is she talking about, what’s at stake?

  Graciela hoped Rowan was just high and rambling, but she couldn’t dismiss the nagging doubt that she had unwittingly become ensnared in something she didn’t understand.

  She refocused her attention on the computer and did a search for this “Harold” that Cypress had spoken about. As it turned out, he did exist, but even as Graciela peered at his face, she couldn’t make sense of who he might be. She was sure she’d never seen him before, let alone married him.

  Pursing her lips together, she reached for her phone again and dialed out.

  “Mr. Santos’ office.”

  “Is he in?” Graciela asked.

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Graciela Kinrade of Realm.”

  “Yes, Ms. Kinrade. One moment.”

  After a brief pause on hold, Sam Santos picked up.

  “Sam Santos.”

  “Hi. It’s Graciela Kinrade.”

  “I had a feeling I might be hearing from you,” Sam sighed. “I hadn’t thought it would be so soon.”

  “What did you tell Cypress yesterday when you saw him?” Rowan asked without mincing words. There was a slight pause.

  “What did he say I told him?” Sam asked evasively. The questioning answer did nothing to alleviate Graciela’s concerns.

  “What is it they say about answering a question with a question?” Graciela asked. “Oh yes, it makes you look shady.”

  Sam snorted.

  “Here we go,” he grunted. “He’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

  “Gotten to me?” she echoed. “You make it sound like it’s a conspiracy.”

  “Ms. Kinrade, I tried to tell you, in Cypress’ mind, everything is a conspiracy. He can’t separate fact from fiction and he’ll drag everyone into his fantasy. Whatever he told you, whatever he claimed I told him, it’s all fiction. He’ll do anything to sabotage his own happiness. It’s sad, really, making up other men for no reason, causing fights, accusations. I’m a little disappointed he made me out to be the bad guy, but I assure you, I didn’t talk anything but business with him. I had no reason to discuss anything else. You don’t have to believe me, but I have nothing to gain by disclosing a husband that doesn’t exist.”

  Graciela’s blood ran cold.

  “I see,” she said slowly. “So, he was fine when you left him yesterday?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “And you haven’t spoken with him again?”

  “Not yet, but it sounds like I’m going to have to check in on him, aren’t I?”

  A lump of worry formed in her throat.

  “Okay,” she murmured, eager to get off the phone before he realized that she had caught him in a lie. “Thanks.”

  “Are you all right, Ms. Kinrade? Maybe you should see about sitting out the rest of the production if this is going to be awkward for you.”

  “Right,” Graciela replied shortly. “I’ll keep it in mind. I have to go. My other line.”

  “Of course. Well, keep me updated. I’ll get in touch with Cypress today.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table, eyeing it like she expected it to come alive.

  Not once had she mentioned the fact that Cypress had accused her of being married. If Cypress hadn’t mentioned his suspicions to Sam, how did the little agent know about it?

  Unless he had planted the seed of doubt in Cypress’ head.

  The more Graciela tried to make sense of what was happening, the more convoluted the situation was becoming.

  The only thing which was becoming increasingly evident was that for some reason, Sam wanted her and Cypress apart.

  And he�
��s willing to gaslight us both to do that.

  The phone rang again and Graciela’s impulse was to ignore it, but her curiosity was piqued when she saw who it was.

  “Hello?” she said, forsaking her formal greeting.

  “Good morning, Ms. Kinrade. This is Charlie Henderson calling.”

  “Good morning, Charlie,” Graciela replied slowly. “I should tell you that I am taking a mental health day, so—”

  “Well, this will certainly make you feel better,” Charlie interjected. “I just want to put this matter to rest before rumors start circulating that can hurt my client.”

  There was a no-nonsense tone to her voice and Graciela realized she had no choice but to hear her out.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I have emailed you blood test results from two separate labs, both independent, one who is used by the NYPD, in fact.”

  “Blood test results? What are you talking about?”

  “You’re wrong about Rowan. She’s clean as a whistle. There’s not so much as an aspirin in her blood.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. She is clean and sober so I insist that you stop spreading vicious lies about her.”

  “Are you sure?” Graciela demanded, her brow knitting in confusion. She would have bet her brownstone that Rowan was on something. How else could her irrational behavior and glassy eyes be explained.

  Blood tests can be faked.

  “I want you to know I have video of the blood being drawn and the chain of evidence was followed as though it were a crime scene,” Charlie continued as if she had read Graciela’s mind. “If you continue to suggest that Rowan is under the influence, I am afraid I will have to suggest my client pursue legal action in this matter.”

  There was so much conviction in Charlie’s tone, it made Graciela doubt everything she’d ever known.

  Am I just wrong about everything? About Rowan? About Cypress?

  Suddenly, she was left wondering if she wasn’t the one who was delusional.

  Graciela rose from her chair and hurried upstairs to shower and change. It looked like she was going to work after all.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Oh, thank God,” Myrna muttered when she appeared at the studio. “If you ever quit, this place is going to go down in flames.”

  “I need you to do me a favor,” she told her assistant quietly. “I need you to find Cypress Landry—very discreetly—and have him meet me in the parking lot.”

  Myrna’s brow knit as she watched her boss tear through the office, apparently looking for something.

  “Are you staying or going?” she asked. “Because seriously, everything is going to hell in production right now. Val is just chain smoking in the alleyway. He hasn’t even—”

  “I’m not here. If anyone asks, I was never here. Just make sure no one sees Cypress leaving, okay? And make sure no one hears that I’m here.”

  Confusion crossed Myrna’s face, but to Graciela’s relief, she didn’t argue.

  “Of course,” she agreed as Graciela pulled a key card out of her desk.

  “My car is unlocked,” Graciela told her. “If I’m not there, tell him to wait. I need to hit security.”

  “Graciela, is everything okay?” Myrna asked with concern. “You’re worrying me.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Graciela replied grimly, stalking toward the door purposefully. She paused to ensure the coast was clear before slipping out.

  With quick, even strides, she made her way to the stairs and somehow managed to sneak undetected to the security level.

  Earl sat in the worn swivel chair, his obese body spilling over the side of the chair perilously. His bloodshot, porcine eyes barely looked up when she entered, but he did a double-take and struggled to right himself when he realized who she was.

  “Miss Kinrade!” he grunted, his wheezing voice straining from the effort. “What a surprise!”

  “Good morning, Earl,” she said with as much pleasantness as she could muster. “I need you to pull some tapes for me from yesterday.”

  He blinked and nodded, leaning forward with great effort. It was almost painful to watch, but Graciela knew she had no choice but to wait for him to work laboriously.

  “From where, Miss? Interior, exterior?”

  “All of it. Start at about two p.m. and onward. I’ll tell you when I see what I’m looking for.”

  “Sure thing.”

  He pulled up screens and Graciela peered over his fat shoulder to look also.

  Her heart caught in her throat as almost instantly, she saw Sam’s car pulling into the parking lot.

  Here’s the moment of truth, she thought, realizing that she hoped she was both right and wrong simultaneously. I’m Schrodinger’s indecision.

  On one hand, she wanted to be wrong about Sam, but on the other hand, it would mean that Cypress was not the man his agent had claimed him to be.

  “Stop!” Graciela cried. “There!”

  She wasn’t really talking to Earl but to herself as she watched another figure join Sam in the parking lot before he entered the studio.

  “Do you see what you’re looking for?” the security manager asked, but Graciela had turned to hurry out of the room, her heart thundering so loudly, it almost blocked out Earl’s question.

  “Miss Kinrade?”

  But she was gone, hurrying up the steps toward her car in the waiting lot.

  What is going on? Why were they meeting?

  The pieces of the puzzle were right in front of her, taunting her as her mind tried to process what was going on, but the answer was just out of reach.

  To her surprise, Myrna was waiting at the car, not Cypress as she had expected.

  “Where is he?” Graciela demanded. “Is he all right?”

  She shook her head, eyes wide.

  “No,” her assistant muttered. “He’s not here.”

  “What do you mean? He didn’t come in today?”

  “He did—I saw him earlier, but he’s not here now.”

  Blood surged through her veins with too much force now and Graciela found herself growing dizzy.

  “We need to find him,” Graciela told Myrna urgently. “Quietly.”

  “I’ll call his agent,” Myrna suggested.

  “NO!” The mousy girl eyed her with shock, unaccustomed to hearing Graciela raise her voice. Of course that was the last thing Graciela wanted. She didn’t want Sam to know a damn thing about what was happening in the studio. In a more even tone, Graciela tried again.

  “Quietly,” she said again. “I don’t want anyone—anyone—to know we’re looking for him.”

  “Graciela, what is going on?” Myrna asked, her question valid, but Graciela had no good answer for her.

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” she sighed, but even as she said it, she didn’t have high hopes for the outcome.

  She turned her attention back toward the studio, trying to decide what to do next.

  “Did you see Rowan Woods in there?” she asked Myrna and the girl considered her question.

  “No… I don’t think so. She might be in rehearsal.”

  But Graciela wasn’t so sure. Sam Santos and Rowan Woods were plotting something, something sinister. The video she had seen in the security office had proved it.

  And now Cypress was missing.

  “Just find Cypress,” Graciela muttered, the anxiety in her gut mounting, but before either woman could move, a series of screams rang out from inside the soundproof studio.

  Stunned, they gaped as the stars poured from the building, one after the other, in a state of shock.

  Smoke billowed after them and panic ensued as Graciela rushed forward to get a handle on what was going on.

  “What happened?” she demanded as Carlie stumbled toward her. The starlet’s eyes were wide and shocked.

  “Dragons,” she whispered. “There are dragons inside.”

  Chapter Eleven

  An Hour Earlier


  Cypress hadn’t wanted to go into work that day but he secretly hoped to find a moment to speak with Graciela in the cold light of day. He had certainly calmed down enough to have a rational conversation with her. He could only wish the same was true of Graciela.

  “You’re not concentrating,” Carlie complained. “You’re not following the music at all!”

  “Indeed,” Drake agreed, throwing up his hands in dismay. “Why am I wasting my time teaching you if you’re not going to focus?”

  “I’m not feeling well,” Cypress said and it was partially true. His gut was churning with the confusion of what had happened over the past few days. All he wanted was to see Graciela and try to figure out what was going on.

  He hadn’t slept a wink the previous night and he could only assume the same was true of her. It had taken every fiber of his being not to call her but he remembered the look of fear he’d seen in her eyes and he willed himself not to scare her more.

  “Too bad!” Drake snapped. “We’re three days away from performance and you’re nowhere near ready!”

  “That’s not what you were saying yesterday!” Cypress grumbled back. “And you can’t squeeze blood from a turnip, Drake. I’m taking the day. Work with Carlie.”

  “This is a salsa!” Carlie protested. “I need a partner!”

  “Drake is literally a dancer. He can partner you,” Cypress replied, reaching for a towel to pat himself off of the little sweat he’d worked up. There was really no point in doing it if his heart wasn’t into it.

  “This show is going to tank!” Drake cried. “My hard work for nothing!”

  Cypress ignored him and sauntered out of the rehearsal space, unsure of where to go next.

  I’m going to see Graciela.

  Just knowing she was so close was enough to drive him crazy.

  If she tells me to leave, I’ll go, he vowed, picking up his stride to make his way toward the offices, but before he got through the main part of Studio A, Rowan appeared before him.

  Cypress eyed her warily.

  “Where are you going, lover?” she asked, a leer on her face. “I thought your girlfriend broke up with you.”

  Cypress felt his back tense.