by Anna Lowe
“Welcome to Koa Point,” Silas murmured as the gate slid open.
Cassandra shivered at the thought of entering the enemy’s lair — one part of her fearful, the other part inexplicably thrilled.
As the car rolled down the winding driveway, she couldn’t stop swiveling her head left and right. There was a stable-like garage with one bay after another, each sheltering a different exotic car. To the left was a wide patch of perfectly manicured lawn, dotted with just enough shrubbery to hide what lay ahead.
“Koa Point,” she murmured when she stepped out of the car, trying to take it all in.
It was nighttime – perhaps not in the time zone she was accustomed to, but here on Maui – and a quarter moon shone through palm trees with fronds that flickered and swayed. Tiki torches illuminated a snaking path through bushes bursting with purple and pink flowers. Each inhale carried the rich scent of ginger to her lungs.
She snuck a peek at Silas, who held his shoulders high, walking without any hint of injury. Was that due to sheer toughness, shifter metabolism, or her herbal remedy?
A second later, she snorted. Right. Who was she kidding? She knew nothing of witchcraft, so it had to be his stoicism or shifter healing. When he winced slightly, readjusting the bag on his good shoulder, she had her answer. Pure toughness, it seemed.
“That’s our akule hale.” He pointed ahead. “The meeting house.”
A couple stepped out from the thatched building, waiting to greet them. The interior of the structure was lit brightly, and she saw all the furnishings of a living room and open kitchen. But that was one hell of a living room — one without walls and with a constant sea breeze.
She looked at Silas. “What does koa mean?”
He nodded. “It’s a tree native to Hawaii.”
“The toughest kind of wood,” Tessa added with a wink. “It’s also the word for an elite class of warrior.”
Casandra mulled that over. Tough wood? Elite warrior? Both fit these men to a T.
“Hi.” A sandy blond man smiled broadly and extended one hand. The other he kept firmly around the waist of the woman at his side — a brunette with an equally friendly smile. “I’m Boone.”
“I’m Nina,” the brunette chimed in, shaking Cassandra’s hand as if she were an old friend.
Silas appeared at her side and stood close. Nearly as close as Boone stood to Nina, but Cassandra didn’t shy away. In fact, she had to resist the urge to snuggle closer. Damn it, what was it about Silas that made her brain turn off and her ovaries turn on?
“This is Miss Nichols,” he said.
Boone laughed. “You just spent how many hours on a flight with her, and you’re still not on a first-name basis?”
“Ten hours,” Cassandra murmured, giving Silas a pointed look.
In spite of everything — the fight in the alley, the injury, and all that time in close quarters — he had remained formal and reserved. She wondered if he had been brought up in exclusive boarding schools that had taught him exactly the right way to behave. But his eyes shone the way a little boy’s would, and she sensed a man waiting to break free from a cage.
Tessa brushed past them, heading toward the kitchen area. “Well, come on in already. Can I get you a drink, Cassandra?”
“That would be great, thanks.” She was beyond resisting. Tessa had shown nothing but kindness and humor throughout the long trip.
“Would anyone like a snack?” Tessa called.
“Me.” Boone stuck up his hand.
“You’re not the one coming back from a long trip,” Nina chided.
“I’m speaking for Silas, who’ll never admit he’s hungry.” Boone winked. “Plus, I can always eat, especially if Tessa is the chef.”
Cassandra followed the others into the meeting house, looking around. Every time she thought she was too exhausted to process any new impressions, a fresh detail would catch her attention. Like the sand-over-concrete floor covered in woven rugs or the peaked ceiling that rose high overhead. A bird flitted between the thick support beams, and two ceiling fans swirled in slow circles. Extra-large leather couches set in a square lent the air of a man den to the place, but there were feminine touches as well. A throw pillow in the shape of a heart. A vase of flowers. Photo frames made of seashells over the fireplace. There was an entire kitchen area to one side with a stainless-steel refrigerator covered with pictures and news clippings. One article she spied said something about a helicopter crash, and another showed a picture of a grinning surfer accepting a trophy.
So much for the cold, clammy dragon’s lair she’d been imagining.
Kai and Tessa flopped right down on the couches and leaned back. Cassandra didn’t intend to do the same, but she ended up doing just that. Between the auction, the alley, and the flight — whew. It was all starting to sink in.
Nina handed her a glass of lemonade, and Cassandra swirled it around, making the ice cubes clink. How had she ever gotten into this mess? How would she ever get out again?
“To coming home,” Tessa said, raising her glass.
“To home,” everyone echoed.
Cassandra looked at her feet. Home? She wasn’t particularly attached to the tiny unit she rented in Brooklyn, but it was hers. When would be the next time she felt at home?
The others settled in with satisfied sighs, each couple in a world of their own. Boone slid one arm around Nina’s shoulders and the other over her protruding belly, giving a little pat. Cassandra tried not to look too hard, but yes — Nina had to be expecting. Meanwhile, Tessa had cozied right up to Kai. Hunter — the big guy who’d picked them up at the jetport – had disappeared the second they stepped foot on the estate, murmuring something about his mate, to which Kai had chuckled something about bears and hours of sleep.
“So good to be home,” Tessa sighed.
Cassandra looked around. Was home a person or a place?
She glanced at Silas, half expecting a gorgeous supermodel type to appear, cry, Darling, you’re home, and rush into his arms. But he sat still as a statue, alone and aloof.
When he glanced up, Cassandra looked down. The couples snuggled, unaware of anyone else. The love and camaraderie of the place were obvious, but she couldn’t help thinking it would be a lonely place for the odd man out.
Her eyes drifted to Silas again — and damn it, he mirrored her. But instead of tearing their gazes to neutral territory, their eyes remained locked. Like an invisible magnet tugging her his way or a silent wind blowing at her back, something made her lean in his direction. The shift of a tectonic plate, maybe, sliding her toward him in super-slow motion. The sound of distant waves and swaying palms faded until all she heard — or thought she heard — was the steady beat of Silas’s heart.
His nostrils flared, and his fingers dug into the armrest. A muscle in his cheek twitched, though he remained otherwise still.
She’d only known Silas for a matter of hours, but her mind flipped through a slide show of little moments she’d shared with him. The solid curve of his wing, sheltering her from Drax’s firestorm. The fury with which he’d roared at Drax, and the anxious look he’d turned on her afterward that said, Please. Please tell me you’re all right.
Then the slide show rushed onward. She remembered his skin heating under her touch when she’d treated his wound. The vulnerable way he’d looked at her when he was stretched out in the jet, and finally, the shine in his eyes when he watched her discover the estate.
Then a calico kitten jumped on the back of Silas’s seat and purred, making the slide show halt.
Silas shook his head as if to free himself from a spell and turned to the kitten.
“Keiki,” he murmured, lighting up.
And, wow. If she’d had a camera to add one more image to the collection, she would have snapped a shot to capture the first glimpse of open emotion Silas had allowed himself in the past hours. Possibly the first show of affection he’d allowed himself in a long time, judging by how quickly he slipped a mask over his
face.
“Keiki has been staking out your house, waiting for you to come home.” Nina laughed.
Cassandra knotted her fingers in her lap, wondering what other shifters were in the room. Wolves? Bears? Lions?
One thing was for sure. None of the horror stories Eloise had frightened her with matched the scene here. All she saw — even as the mood turned somber during Silas’s debrief of the events in New York — was love, joy, and devotion. The couples showed it every time they locked eyes, and that extended to the group as well. Clearly, this was a unit. An extended family. People who stuck together through thick and thin.
Love and devotion. A sea of it all around her, making her ache. Back in New York, she usually felt like the lucky one — no overly complicated relationships, no job woes, no wayward kids. But here…
She scratched her toes against the woven mat under her feet. Here, she couldn’t help but notice what her life lacked. A true friend. A partner. A lover.
And just like that, her eyes slid over to Silas and drank him in.
“Good thing you got away safely,” Nina said.
“Good thing,” Silas whispered, looking straight at Cassandra.
She gulped her lemonade, wishing it had a little vodka mixed in. Did dragon shifters have their own kind of magic or was that particular to Silas?
“Well, it’s been a long day. Make that, a long night.” Tessa yawned and offered a hand to Kai. “Shall we head home?”
Kai stood immediately, pressing himself to her side as if an inch apart were too much. His arm slipped around Tessa’s waist, and her flashing green eyes hinted that she might have something other than sleep in mind.
“I’ll show Cassandra to the guesthouse,” Boone said. He hadn’t moved an inch from Nina’s side throughout the entire discussion of the auction, the diamond, and Drax. “Ready?”
Before Cassandra could open her mouth, Silas leaped to his feet and growled, “I’ll take her.”
Cassandra’s blood rushed, and she couldn’t decide if that was arousal or fear. But she just nodded and tossed her hair as if she were at work behind the bar. She had dealt with plenty of men in her time. Some came on strong, some flirty, and others who were flat-out drunk. She could handle this guy.
Or so she hoped.
“This way,” Silas said, motioning down a footpath.
“Good night,” she called to the others, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.
“Good night,” Tessa said.
Nina waved. “Sleep tight.”
Boone chuckled. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
She substituted dragons for bed bugs — and immediately gulped.
Silas led the way, and she followed, doing her best not to notice the neat box of his ass or the bulge of his shoulders. He held up a vine of coral-colored bougainvillea, and she ducked under it, coming far too close to his body in the process. She’d never seen or smelled a koa tree, but she guessed that’s what it would be like: strong, oaky, dependable. It should be illegal for a man to smell that good after all they’d been through.
“Thanks.” She power-walked forward, reminding herself what she was doing on the estate and why. She’d been tasked to protect a special diamond — one that could be abused by exactly the type of man she was with now.
“Not far now,” Silas said.
The murmur of waves over pebbles and sand grew louder, and when Silas led her out onto a beach, she stopped short. A row of white breakers shone under the light of the quarter moon. The dark hulks of neighboring islands slumbered on the horizon like turtles, and a bird soared overhead. The guesthouse was part of that view too, and it blew her away.
“Amazing,” she breathed.
Amazing started at the rainbow hammock strung between two trees and continued to the cozy structure beyond it. A curved roof started low on the ends and swept high at the top, as if an admiral had tossed his hat upon the most beautiful beach he’d come across in all his travels and declared, Build me a cottage here. The low porch started where the sand ended, and two lounge chairs angled toward the sea. She could already picture herself sitting on a colorful towel, sipping a coconut-shell drink.
A breaker rolled, and she turned back toward the sea. Stars glittered across an indigo sky. Crickets chirped from the dunes, and the scent of roses wafted from a nearby bush.
Silas pushed a sliding screen door aside. No squeak, no rattles, no bangs. Yellow curtains stirred lazily in the sea breeze, and the blue bedding practically fussed over her like a mother hen.
Come in, come in! You must be so tired, but now you can relax. Catch your breath.
Which would have been much easier if Silas weren’t there, taking up so much of the doorway that she didn’t dare edge past. He tapped a supporting beam with his palm.
“We just replaced the roof and completed a few other repairs.” There was a hint of pride in his voice, and Cassandra guessed that the we who sweated over that job might just have been him.
He struck a match and lit a giant white candle set on the porch table. It flickered and danced within a cylinder of glass.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, ascending the last step.
Her feet stalled out, and she paused an inch away from his chest. For a second, she stood there, barely breathing, barely able to think. What was this crazy feeling that took over her when she got close to him?
She glanced up and couldn’t quite meet his eyes, because his gaze had dropped to her lips. His mouth cracked open as if to say something – or even better, to kiss. On instinct, she leaned in closer, holding her breath, yearning for his kiss.
She tilted her chin up, unable to think of a single reason why not to kiss. It seemed perfectly natural, especially given the honeymoon setting of the place. But then a palm frond swept over the thatched roof of the guesthouse, almost giggling, and she snapped back to her senses.
“Goodnight, Miss Nichols,” Silas whispered, jerking away.
Miss Nichols. Would she ever break through his defenses? And, yikes. Did she really want to?
She watched him go, aching inside, and replied in a slightly husky voice. “Goodnight, Silas.”
A second later, he was gone, and she flopped down in a chair, staring out over the sea. Eventually, she sighed and puffed out the candle. Then she sat in the dark, watching wisps of smoke twist and turn in the pale moonlight.
“Goodnight, Koa Point,” she whispered, hugging herself.
Chapter Six
Days passed, and though Cassandra was on guard against the type of evil Eloise had described, nothing happened. Nothing bad, anyway.
She’d half expected spartan barracks with dragon firing ranges and straw figures to incinerate, but there was no such thing. No cruel, domineering dragons. No blasts of fire or sudden transformations into snarling, slobbery beasts. Just four quiet, sunny days in a peaceful corner of paradise.
The estate was amazing. The guesthouse opened onto a scoop of golden sand where turquoise water washed in and out. There was an entire garden of exotic flowers, from delicate hibiscus to bold torch ginger and fiery bird-of-paradise — not to mention plain old roses she couldn’t help but sniff on the way past. Tessa and Nina fixed her up with all the clothes she needed. And before long, she started to grow comfortable with a daily routine among the shifters of Koa Point.
Too comfortable, really.
She would wake up early, still on East Coast time, and linger on the porch, gazing over the pink-hued horizon. The stars would dim, and the outline of Molokai would gradually take shape. Not that her mind spent much time considering the neighboring islands. More like musing over her enigmatic host — or worse, fanning herself to dispel the aftereffects of hot fantasies she’d started dreaming at night. It was almost as if Silas had visited her and done all sorts of wickedly good things. Things her body — and soul — needed.
Desperately.
Of course, the moment she woke up — well, maybe a drowsy minute or two later, once she’d relished the feeling
— she would snap back to her senses and lecture herself with echoes of Eloise’s words.
Never trust a dragon. They are vile, cruel creatures. They are the enemy.
But that grew harder to believe with each passing day. Especially once she showered and wandered to the meeting house, where she would pour herself a coffee and exchange pleasantries with the residents of the estate as they wandered in alone or in pairs.
Dawn — a bear shifter/police officer — was usually the first up and about with a bleary-eyed Hunter practically glued to her side.
“Bears are late risers,” Dawn explained, giving Hunter’s boulder-sized shoulder an affectionate pat. “I’m a night owl, myself,” she added with a wink.
The moment Dawn left for her job, Hunter would head to bed for a nap. Later, he would get to work maintaining the estate’s fleet of luxury cars. The others wandered in and out throughout the morning, some rushing off to jobs, others taking it slow. Kai and Tessa would head straight to the kitchen, while Nina would flop down on a couch and let Boone massage her shoulders.
“Morning sickness,” he explained, part proud father, part pained partner who couldn’t stand to see his mate suffer.
The concept of a mate had struck Cassandra as barbaric the first few times she’d heard the word. And when she overheard that Silas had once been betrothed to Moira, the word medieval popped into her mind — along with a wave of jealousy she couldn’t entirely explain. Why should it matter to her who Silas had been with in the past?
It mattered, though. More than she wanted to admit.
But the more she observed, the more she came to like the idea of having a mate, especially if that meant having a man treat her in the same adoring manner as the men of Koa Point showed. Boone scurried around, doing everything he could to relieve Nina’s misery, from foot massages to compresses to homeopathic drinks.