by Abigail Owen
“Human?”
“She thinks he is, but he managed to nail a note to our door, in broad daylight, without anyone noticing. We have our doubts.”
“You think this dragon is the one lighting the fires?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see if I understand. You believe this woman is human, but has a dragon shifter after her?”
“That’s our best guess.”
Impatience swirled inside him, like a dust devil picking up steam. “Why tell me?”
This man should know that Rune wasn’t interested in humans, only in potential dragon mates.
“The situation is full of questions. You could take advantage of that, conduct some of your…business…under the guise of this mystery shifter we’re tracking.”
Again, he considered the information in silence. They were tracking two potential dragon mates in the area, not that he’d share that information. Not yet. He needed to determine how committed his new spy was to the cause.
Identifying the women who could be turned into dragon mates was difficult when they weren’t exposed to dragon shifters. Which meant getting his men close to them for a period of time. Easier said than done when he and every one of his men had “WANTED” posters figuratively plastered all over the shifter landscape.
“What does this dragon shifter smell like?”
The man held out a glass vial with what appeared to be charred wood in it. “I’ve brought you a sample.”
Rune slipped the vial into an inside coat pocket. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I use this information.” His informant could help cover their tracks from the inside if needed, maybe blame one of their fires on this rogue dragon, if that’s what he was.
“Anything for me?”
“Not yet. I only needed your agreement to start, which I now have.” The key to working an inside man was to only give him enough information to do his job. The plans currently in place only required his help if the fires got out of control or Finn and his team started sniffing around.
“I understand.”
A miniscule twitch of a sound caught Rune’s attention. Rather than react, he held still and deliberately adjusted his focus to the man in front of him. “There is something you can do, however.”
“What?”
There it was again. Another snick. It could be an animal in the area—a deer, even something smaller like a possum, given the faintness of the sound. But Rune didn’t think so. Instinct honed with experience told him another person lurked nearby, but he couldn’t smell anything.
Who was out there? The shifter going after this woman? Or had his informant been followed?
“Find out why this dragon shifter wants her.”
Because if she was a dragon mate, Rune needed to get her away from the Huracán Enforcers before they could hand her over to the Mating Council. No way were the clans getting their hands on another one.
…
Pounding at the door dragged Delaney out of a restless sleep that involved dreams of horrifying lizard men chasing her through stark woods. She kept running but never moved anywhere, heart thudding, the dream faded and reality took over.
Even so, it took her a second to get her bearings. Where was she? Oh yeah, in Blake’s room in Sera’s apartment. She threw back her covers and hurried out of the room, waving a hand at Sera, who stood in her doorway, face pale. Delaney checked the peephole with trepidation.
Who the hell could be at the door at this hour? Dawn was barely breaking, the rays of light milky, barely penetrating the blinds.
As soon as she saw who stood outside, she sucked in a breath—fear and frustration in equal parts pumping through her system.
Finn.
She didn’t know if she wanted to punch him for scaring her, thank him for coming, or kiss the damn man. The way her nipples were hardening under the soft material of her pink polka-dot pj’s, she’d say her body was most interested in that last one.
But not when she was fresh out of bed with morning breath and no bra.
He pounded again. “Delaney. Open the door.”
A command, not a request. Maybe punching him was a better idea, even if he was helping her.
He believes you. The thought whispered through her, and her irritation eased marginally.
She left the chain on and cracked the door, peering at him blearily. “It’s six a.m., Finn. I was asleep.”
“Sorry.”
She looked him up and down. “No, you’re not.”
Was that a smile tugging at his lips? “Can I come in?”
She glanced down. “We’re still in pj’s.”
“I can wait while you change.”
With a disgruntled sound, she closed the door to take the chain off then swung it wide and plunked her hand on her hip. “You couldn’t have waited for me to be awake?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, and she swallowed as his gaze traveled from her eyes to her breasts then lower down her long legs.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, smiling as he jerked his gaze up to her eyes.
Heat. Want. Need. All there in those blue depths. Then he blinked and…back to business. A bucket of ice water had nothing on Finn Conleth.
“I would’ve waited a little longer, but we believe your stalker is in the area,” he said.
Dread punched through her solar plexus and spread out from there, constricting her lungs and taking over her legs, which no longer wanted to support her. “Oh.”
The room tilted, and she’d bet she was white as a sheet. Groping for the chair behind her, she dropped back to sit on the arm. Relief, only a thread of it, came next. Maybe she wasn’t responsible for the damn fires. She glanced over her shoulder, but Sera wasn’t there. She must’ve gone back to her room to dress.
Finn squatted in front of her, hands on her knees, like yesterday. Was that only yesterday? And just like last time, along with the blaze of awareness, comfort warmed her, as if absorbing into her bloodstream through his touch alone. She liked his hands with their long, thick fingers and nails cut neatly short. Hands that spoke of hard work and capability.
A glance up and she caught her breath. Mr. Down-to-Business was gone, the want back in those penetrating blue eyes.
“You okay?” He reached up and slid one of those hands under the fall of her hair to cup the back of her neck. “I shouldn’t have put it that bluntly. Sorry.”
She shook her head. “It’s better than me being crazy.”
He huffed a laugh. “I didn’t say you weren’t crazy.”
She focused on his lips, pulled up in the closest thing to a smile she’d seen yet, one that tripped up her already racing heart. Then she raised her gaze to collide with eyes that singed her with pure need.
They stared at each other, and she silently willed him not to put up those walls again, to do something about this…palpable need. She wasn’t the only one feeling it. Not with the way his hunger stared back at her—raw and unmistakable.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured. Then he leaned forward and claimed her mouth in a kiss shocking in how achingly sweet it was.
Delaney parted her lips under his on a soft sigh and darted her tongue out to touch his lower lip, needing to taste him. God, he tasted good, like a fine whisky. And he knew what to do with that mouth of his, claiming hers in no uncertain way. She snaked her arms up around his neck and tugged him closer, giving a small moan as he deepened the kiss, brushing his fingers over the back of her neck in a way that had her throbbing in response.
He tightened his arms around her, pulling her body flush against his.
Then stilled suddenly.
No. Don’t stop.
She hardly had time to gasp before he lifted his head and swore. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Sorry. Again.”
That was it? Her first thought came with a rush of irritation while her body hummed with unfinished need. Back to business already? But those thoughts were followed by an odd recognition. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d t
asted him before, felt his lips against hers.
Only she hadn’t. She’d remember something like that.
Confusion and irritation made an annoying cocktail.
She licked her lips and inhaled, filling her lungs with his scent that was subtly smoky with an underlying bite to it, like bourbon and Coke. Dammit, if he was going to keep putting distance between them, she needed to put up her own walls. She sat up straighter, the one to add distance this time, leveling an unimpressed gaze on him. “You’re sorry a lot, you know that?”
Another huffed laugh, this one more uncomfortable sounding as he searched her face, trying to get a read on her. “You have no idea. But I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t…professional.”
“Professional is overrated,” she grumbled under her breath.
“What?” he asked. Only his eyes crinkled at the corners, as though he was holding back a smile.
“You heard me.” She stood, and almost grinned when he stiffened at her nearness, though he didn’t step back. “Let me get dressed, then I want you to tell me what you know.”
Back to her serious firefighter, he gave a sharp nod.
He followed her upstairs to her apartment where she hurried through a shower, happy that the natural wave to her hair allowed her to get by with no further styling than running a brush through it. Dressed in jeans and a green scoop-neck shirt, she returned to the living room to find him standing where she’d left him by the chair near the front door, taking up the room, and all the air, with his presence. Just like she’d known he would.
“You don’t have any pictures in here,” he said.
She blinked and glanced around at the generic decor she’d used in the apartment. “No.”
“Is there a reason?”
She couldn’t put her finger on why, but she got the impression that this was more than idle curiosity.
“Everything was destroyed in the fire that burned my family home to the ground.” The words came out flat, devoid of emotion, because if she didn’t shut down all emotional connection to that memory, she’d lose it. And it wouldn’t be a single glistening tear, either, but a sobbing, blotchy-faced, full-on sob fest. Since all this started up, her emotions had been closer to the surface.
Finn took a step closer, but she had her own walls up now, and took a step back. He paused, frowning a little, but didn’t come closer. “I know something about loss.”
She caught her breath at the look in his eyes. Pain. Guilt. No way to mistake it.
He understood, she realized, even without the details and the tears. He understood how alone she’d been for years. How empty her life had been.
“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time.
She smiled and shook her head. “There you go with the apologies again.” Not that her sadness or her fear were gone, but at least she’d calmed down. With a sigh, she dropped to the couch, pulling her feet up under her. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Finn just stared at her, so she raised her eyebrows in question and waited.
“This morning Levi confirmed that Graff hasn’t shown up for work for the last two months. Yesterday, we found this.” Finn pulled out a piece of paper, which looked as though it had been balled up then flattened back out, and handed it to her.
For the second time in only a short while, the blood drained from her face, leaving her shaky. “Shit.”
Finn took a step toward her then stopped. “He’s sneaky. I’ll grant him that. He managed to put that on our door without any of us catching him.”
She nodded slowly. “He also managed to light four fires without the authorities being able to pin it on him.” She pulled her gaze off the note to find Finn watching her closely. Probably worried she’d pass out or start screaming, but she wasn’t the type. She wasn’t as soft as she appeared.
Not after everything she’d been through, at least.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“You’re moving in with us until he’s caught.”
A half laugh, half snort escaped her. “I don’t think so.”
That pulled him up short. “Why not?”
So many reasons. She held out the note to him. “I figured you’d turn this in to the police. Wouldn’t they be the ones to protect me?”
Finn sat beside her, crowding her, his heat warming the side of her leg. “We’re contacting the…proper authorities. However, you dealt with this already when you got the restraining order. The police can’t protect you until we have proof that he’s broken the restraining order, which is usually too late.”
Dammit, he was right about that. Still… “I’m staying here.”
Finn reached out, like he’d take her hand, but he didn’t. Instead he fisted his and dropped it back to his lap. “If you stay with us, you’ll be safe.”
Delaney shook her head. “No.”
Expectation turned to a scowl. One she’d bet intimidated most people, but it didn’t bother her. Somehow, she knew he’d never hurt her.
“It’s the best way,” he said. “I’m not asking, Delaney.”
“You’re not asking?” she repeated slowly.
He must not have caught the pissed note underlying those words, because he nodded.
She glared at him through narrowed eyes. “I’m not one of your men. I don’t jump when you say jump.”
Finn sat back, that scowl turning almost glacial, but Delaney wasn’t backing down.
“My job is to keep you safe,” he said.
“Nope.” She stood up, needing the space, needing to not be breathing him in. “Your job is to put out wildfires. Bodyguard is not in the description.”
He jumped to his feet, facing her square on. “You want me to just walk away?”
Delaney crossed her arms. “Thank you for what you’ve figured out so far. But I think it’s best if I take this to the police.”
“Who can’t do anything for you,” he pointed out again.
Frustration edged his voice, but she couldn’t do it. “I’m not dragging more people into my problems.”
“Too fucking late,” he snapped.
Her eyes flew wide and they both stared at each other. Finn ran a hand over his face. “I’m not walking away,” he said in a softer voice. “It’s not how I’m made.”
Delaney hated to admit that relief bubbled through her at those words. As arrogant as he was acting, he wouldn’t abandon her. Most people would, but not Finn. Still, the thought of being so close to him all the time while he put her through an emotional ping-pong match didn’t appeal either.
She flung her arm toward the door. “I can’t leave Sera. He’ll keep going after the winery because he knows it means something to me.”
Finn stared at her for a long moment, his shoulders tense but his eyes clear. He nodded as though he’d worked something out in his head. “We’ll take two man shifts, staying in your apartment and on the property. That way you’re protected when you’re at work, and Sera’s protected when you’re not here.”
“Are you kidding?” This was too much for her to expect from anyone. “I can’t ask you and your men to do that.”
“I’m going to do it with or without your cooperation.”
Finn had some kind of need to protect going on, but one she suspected had less to do with her and more to do with him as a person.
Delaney held back a growl of irritation. “Why can’t I stay here then, if you’ll be posting men on the property?”
Finn’s expression remained the same, but she didn’t miss how his hands clenched into fists. “He’s not after Sera, he’s after you. Given how he delivered that note, I’d feel better protecting you on our territory with more eyes on the lookout.”
Territory? Still, despite the odd choice of wording, she hated when logic overrode her wishes. Because, no matter what, Graff was dangerous. Which meant… “Fine.”
He pulled his shoulders back and cocked his head. “Fine?”
“That’s what I said. Fine.”
He did
n’t say anything.
Delaney narrowed her eyes. “You thought I was just going to agree off the bat, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Moot point now. Do you need help packing?”
That did make her growl. “Despite your obvious preconceptions, I can do some things for myself.”
Finn’s lips tugged up in a smile that knocked all thoughts out of her head. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Huh.” Which was not exactly a fantastic comeback, only making her more irritated.
Delaney whirled on one foot and stomped back to her bedroom where she yanked her suitcase out from its storage place under the bed.
“I’ll be outside waiting,” he called.
“Knock yourself out.”
Delaney cringed as the door closed behind him, then sighed, making a mental note to apologize when she went outside. She hadn’t meant to snap, but her life was being hijacked by a pyro asshole…had been hijacked for years. A fact that put her on edge. She was more than grateful to Finn for his help, but dammit, she hated this. Not his fault…well, except for his habit of giving orders. That was definitely his fault.
But despite agreeing to go with him, she still had her doubts. What could a bunch of firefighters do against a stalker?
Chapter Nine
Finn made his way down the stairs to lean against one of the picnic tables situated in the grassy area between the farmhouse and the tasting room.
Why the hell had he kissed her again? And like that?
Except she’d been looking so lost, so utterly alone and empty, he couldn’t have stopped himself. Even now, thinking about it, he knew he’d do it again. He should’ve wiped her memory, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that again. Some small part of him, a part he should be ignoring, wanted her to remember.
The buzz of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts. “Conleth,” he answered.
“Boss,” Aidan’s voice croaked down the line, his voice an immediate tip-off that something was wrong.
Finn stiffened and stood up, searching the grounds to see if he could spot the rookie. “What’s wrong?”
“That asshole knocked me out. He managed to come up behind me. I don’t know what he hit me with, but damn…”