“He would make a great hero for the cover of my next book,” Myra added enthusiastically.
Laughter sparkled in Tegan’s eyes as she looked across at the other woman. “Do you want to be the one to ask him to pose for it?”
Myra shot another look at Bryn. “Er… Maybe not.” She chuckled. “Where on earth did you meet such a magnificent specimen of manhood?”
Tegan laughed at what the taciturn Bryn’s reaction would be to hearing himself described that way. He’d been no more friendly or talkative when she joined him in the sitting room of their suite after taking her shower. Growly best described him, she’d decided as the two of them came down in the private elevator together earlier.
Although to give Bryn his due, he must be pretty bored sitting and drinking water at the bar while Tegan ate and chatted with several of her authors.
Bryn had never been as bored in his life as he was right now, sitting in this crowded and noisy bar, being ogled by rapacious females as he watched Tegan eat not one dinner but two, followed by cocktails with yet another author. One particularly bold female had even approached him just now and asked if he was one of the cover models attending the conference. Until that moment, Bryn had assumed the men on the front of Chloe’s books weren’t real people. Not only were they real, but several of those men were apparently also here in New York.
Chloe was going to owe Bryn big-time for putting him through this torture.
It didn’t help that he’d been in a constant state of arousal since Tegan McCall first spoke to him in their suite earlier. Since his dragon and he had recognized her as his mate.
Or that his dragon kept declaring mine, and urging him to claim our mate. Now.
There was no doubt that Tegan was beautiful and vivacious, or that admiring the soft curves of her body in a pair of tailored black trousers and a long blue shirt that matched the shade of her eyes caused Bryn’s aroused body to throb. Although, to be fair, as his fated mate, Tegan could have been wearing a sack and Bryn would still have physically responded to her.
But Bryn didn’t want a mate. He’d made the decision long ago that when, or if, he found his fated mate, he would refuse to claim her. He’d been alive for sixteen hundred years, with only his brothers as his constant companions, while everyone else around them eventually died. Much as Bryn loved his brothers, he was tired. Weary.
Deryk had told Bryn he would feel differently about it once he met his mate and the mating began. That being emotionally and mentally connected to his claimed mate was beyond description, and the physical pleasure shared with a mate so much more than anything Deryk had ever known before. Considering Deryk had been the original bad boy, with a constant stream of women falling into and then as quickly out of his bed, that was high praise indeed.
It was true, Nathaniel and Deryk were extremely happy with Chloe and Izzy, but Bryn was nothing like either of his mated brothers. He’d always been dark and brooding, rarely smiling. That dourness had only become more intense as the years, and then centuries, passed. No woman would want to put up with him as their mate for what would be a very long life together.
As long as he kept his distance from Tegan, didn’t allow any of the aphrodisiac in his saliva to start the mating process, the choice of the mating would remain his.
His brother Dylan had now formulated an antidote to the production of that aphrodisiac in their saliva, but as Bryn’d had no idea he was going to meet his mate in New York, he’d never bothered to take any of it nor brought any with him.
He wouldn’t need it, Bryn reassured himself, having no intention of getting close enough to Tegan for any of his saliva to come in contact with her bare skin.
Tegan might edit Chloe’s books on dragon shifters, but she had absolutely no idea dragon shifters really existed, let alone that she was the fated mate of one of them. Without that knowledge or the mating, Tegan would go on to live a happy and fruitful human life. With a man of her own choosing, rather than the one fate had chosen for her. Because there was no way Tegan would ever choose to spend the rest of her life with someone like Bryn.
She was bright and bubbly, a twenty-first century woman. She was—
No longer smiling.
Her face had gone pale.
Her body tense.
And the reason for the sudden change in her demeanor was obvious as a good-looking man, probably in his late twenties, approached the table where Tegan had just said her goodbye to the last of her authors for tonight and was preparing to leave. She turned to give Bryn a beseeching glance as the other man reached her side and started talking to her.
He instantly stood and made his way across the crowded bar, oblivious to the way people instinctively moved out of his way. His narrowed gaze was totally concentrated on the blond-haired man trying to engage Tegan in conversation.
Bryn put his arm possessively about the slenderness of Tegan’s waist and drew her against him the moment he reached her side. His dragon roared inside him to be set free, to be allowed to rip and claw to shreds the male who had dared to speak to their mate, that need intensifying as Bryn felt the trembling of Tegan’s body against his own.
Tegan initially tensed at the heat of Bryn’s muscular arm moving about her waist before she forced that tension to ease as she leaned gratefully into Bryn’s side.
Meeting Steven again, knowing of his obsession with her, was every bit as traumatic as she’d thought it might be. Her initial instinct was to confront him with his weird behavior these past couple of weeks. At the same time, she was very aware they were in the lobby of the conference hotel, where anyone might overhear their conversation. Much as Tegan might want to tell Steven what she thought of him, and what he could do with his “gifts,” now wasn’t the time or place.
Luckily, Bryn had joined them before Tegan could truly make her mind up one way or the other what to do. “Bryn, this is Steven Baker. He works for a rival publishing company,” she dismissed. “Steven, Bryn Pendragon.” She deliberately gave no explanation for who Bryn was or why he was here.
Steven put out his hand. “Mr. Pendragon.”
“I’d rather keep my hand exactly where it is.” Bryn felt an inward blaze of satisfaction as the other man’s hand dropped back to his side, Baker’s expression turning to one of deep irritation. “It’s been a long day, and it’s time we went to bed.” He spoke to Tegan, but his gaze continued to hold and challenge the other man’s.
Baker’s cheeks colored a deep red. But whether due to anger at the dismissal, or because of Bryn’s obvious implication he and Tegan would be sharing that bed, wasn’t clear as he gave a forced smile. “No doubt we’ll have time to catch up tomorrow, Tegan.”
“Any free time Tegan has this week will be spent with me,” Bryn stated in a cold tone that brooked no argument.
The other man shot him a frowning glance. “I don’t remember seeing you before. Which publishing company do you work for…?”
“I don’t,” Bryn bit out tersely. He forced his expression to soften, to hopefully become more lover-like—whatever the hell that looked like—as he glanced at Tegan. “Ready to leave?”
“More than,” she assured him with feeling. “Steven.” She nodded abruptly.
Bryn kept his arm about Tegan’s waist as they strolled across the lobby of the hotel to where the private elevator was situated for the penthouse floor. But he was able to feel the other man’s narrowed gaze following their progress every step of the way.
“Whew.” Once the elevator doors had closed behind them, Tegan stepped away from Bryn’s encircling arm to lean weakly against one of the mirrored walls. “I can’t believe I was ever stupid enough to think he was attractive. What a douche bag,” she added self-disgustedly.
Bryn laughed.
He actually fucking laughed.
How long had it been since he genuinely smiled, let alone laughed?
Too long to remember, Bryn realized with a frown. Probably centuries. And yet within hours of meeting her, somethin
g his mate said had made him laugh out loud.
As for being in the confines of the elevator with her…
Her perfume, citrus and flowers, along with a feminine scent that was all her own, was completely insidious and now saturated Bryn’s senses. Despite standing several feet away, Bryn could also feel the heat of her slender but curvaceous body, causing his engorged cock to throb and the talons to pierce the tips of his fingers before he curled them out of sight into his palms.
As if aware of his sudden tension, Tegan looked across at him, the smile dying on own lips at whatever emotions she saw swirling in his eyes.
Desire?
Hunger?
Mine!
Whatever the hell these emotions were fucking with his brain, Bryn had no time for them. Or Tegan. He was in New York as a favor to Chloe. It was the only reason he’d remained here once he realized Tegan was his mate.
That and the undeniable fact his mate was compellingly beautiful. She was also warm. Strong. Independent. Intelligent. Everything a dragon mate should be.
Except I don’t want a fated mate!
Bryn could almost feel Deryk enjoying the vehemence of his protest. See the laughter in his brother’s gold eyes at the thought of Bryn succumbing to the mating heat and desire.
Which I am not going to do.
Maybe he should contact Dylan and ask him to send some of the antidote to the mating aphrodisiac—
No, because if Bryn did that, at least one of his brothers would know Bryn had met his mate. And if one of them knew, then they would all eventually know, and then Bryn would never hear the end of it. Or have his brothers’ understanding when he refused to mate and turned dragon and stayed that way, and they had to hunt him down and kill him.
“It might help if one of us pressed the elevator button for our floor.”
Bryn refocused on Tegan. There was a becoming blush on her cheeks as she pressed the appropriate button on the panel and the elevator began to move silently upward.
Damn it, he knew why he was distracted, but could Tegan’s distraction be caused by her succumbing to the mating heat, even though Bryn hadn’t touched or kissed her? Well…his arm had touched her, but only through the material of her shirt. His lips and saliva were going nowhere near those kissable lips or that desirable body—
Fuck.
“Are you okay?” Tegan prompted as the two of them stepped out of the elevator to walk together down the carpeted hallway toward their suite.
Was Bryn okay?
Absolutely not.
“I need some air after sitting in the bar all evening.” He’d been engaged in a constant inner war this evening, with his dragon’s demand to mate and his own determination not to. It was exhausting at best and frustrating at worst. “Go inside and get some sleep.” He waited until a frowning Tegan had entered their suite before turning on his heel and leaving. But instead of returning to the elevator, he pushed through the door into the stairwell, going up toward the roof rather than down to the lobby.
His agreement to guard Tegan meant he couldn’t escape to the sanctuary of his cave in Ireland, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t leave Tegan safely locked in their hotel suite so that he and his dragon could go flying in order to clear his head and senses of her.
Tegan McCall.
His fated mate.
Chapter 4
Get some sleep, Bryn had told her.
As if Tegan could sleep when she knew Bryn would be returning to their suite sometime tonight.
Myra was right, Bryn Pendragon was a magnificent specimen of manhood. Made even more so when compared to Steven Baker. What had she been thinking, even having dinner with Steven once, let alone twice? Next to Bryn, the other man seemed too full of his own self-importance. Nor did his blond-haired, blue-eyed handsomeness now appeal to her in the slightest. Steven didn’t have that whole tall, dark, and dangerous thing going for him like Bryn did. In spades.
Unfortunately, Bryn was also grouchy and unapproachable.
Which, considering he was only here at all to act as her bodyguard, shouldn’t be a problem.
And yet it was.
There was just something about Bryn that drew Tegan to him. Made her want to touch him. To feel the movement and flexing of those defined chest muscles beneath her fingers. To know what his lips tasted like. How he tasted. All of him.
Tegan could never remember having such a visceral reaction to any man like the one she was having to Bryn Pendragon. Without the least encouragement, she might add, because Bryn certainly made no secret of the fact he would rather be anywhere else but here. In New York. With her.
Of course, he was used to living in the family castle in the wilds of Wales, so New York was probably a bit of a culture shock for him. The conference was also already a little manic, which meant the hotel was too.
But Bryn’s reluctance to be in their hotel suite seemed to go deeper than that.
His aversion to spending time alone with her went much deeper than that.
Why?
Tegan knew that Nathaniel Pendragon’s attitude toward women was a little old-fashioned, his behavior toward Chloe totally territorial. Not that Chloe was complaining; she obviously loved her future husband’s possessiveness and felt exactly the same way about him. Tegan knew Chloe had given up her career as a journalist and become an author so she could live with Nathaniel in Wales, but still maintain her independence.
Tegan had that same independence. Her rented apartment in London. Her job as an editor. Her numerous friends in publishing and outside of her job. She also had family back in Ireland: two older brothers and her mother. Her father had moved to England years ago after her parents’ divorced, but despite living in England the past three years, Tegan saw very little of him.
After finishing her degree at an Irish university, she had decided she wanted to work in publishing. A master’s degree in journalism and publishing from Oxford University had ensured she was able to get a job afterward as a junior editor with one of the smaller publishing companies in London. This move to Hawke Publishing six months ago was a definite move upward in her career.
But none of that had been easy. Neither of her parents were wealthy, and Tegan had to work, on top of studying for her two degrees, to help pay for her tuition fees and living expenses. She’d also worked hard to prove herself the past two years of being an editor.
Despite all that, did Bryn Pendragon see something in her he disapproved of?
The Pendragon brothers were obviously extremely wealthy, and not just because they owned that huge castle in Wales. The cars they all owned were something Tegan had only ever seen in exclusive showrooms in London. They traveled all over the world, granted that was mainly doing work for Pendragon Security. But Chloe had accompanied Nathaniel a couple of times, and the brothers always stayed in five-star hotels, and the clothes they wore all had designer labels.
A life so much different from Tegan’s own. She rented an apartment. Her car was ten years old. She couldn’t afford to travel to exciting locations unless it was paid for by Hawke Publishing. Her clothes were always smart but never designer label.
Or maybe Bryn disapproved of her on another level entirely?
After all, he was here to protect her from the attentions of an ex-boyfriend.
Did Bryn disapprove of her lifestyle rather than her? Did he perhaps believe she’d brought Steven’s behavior on herself? Maybe that she’d gone to bed with the other man and then ended the relationship?
Whatever the reason, Bryn hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough once they arrived back at their hotel suite.
Where had he gone?
He didn’t drink, obviously didn’t engage in social chitchat either, so he wouldn’t have returned to the bar.
So where was he?
Wherever it was, Tegan doubted he would share that information with her.
And she needed to get some sleep if she was going to be awake enough to deal with her meetings tomorrow and then
join the other editors and executive staff of Hawke Publishing for drinks early tomorrow evening, when they would all meet the executives of the new owners of the company.
“I wasn’t sure what you eat for breakfast, so I ordered a little of everything.” Bryn indicated the laden trolley delivered by room service a few minutes ago.
He’d been awake for hours. Hell, he’d barely slept at all. How could he when his body was filled with a raging desire for Tegan that simply wouldn’t go away and was barely contained? A desire and a weakness Bryn resented.
Much as he’d enjoyed his flight over New York and his ability to mask his dragon, meaning people couldn’t see him as he swooped between and over the high-rise buildings, it hadn’t been enough to soothe his dragon or him.
Once Bryn returned to the hotel suite, he hadn’t been able to stop his thoughts of Tegan as he lay on the sofa bed, staring up at the ceiling. To imagine her in the adjoining bedroom, her lean and desirable body naked beneath the bedcovers. He had literally salivated at the thought of her pert breasts, possibly tipped with deep rose nipples he ached to suck and pleasure. To imagine her legs slightly parted, revealing her clit nestled in a dark thatch of curls and tempting Bryn to stroke and lick it.
There was no way he’d been able to sleep with his cock rock hard and aching to claim her.
He hadn’t been sure what his reaction would be to seeing her again this morning. Would he simply lunge for her and claim her? Or would he be able to continue to control himself and his beast?
Instead of doing either of those things, Bryn almost laughed out loud as he now looked across at Tegan and saw how reality didn’t match his nighttime imaginings.
She had a serious case of bedhead, her dark hair a disheveled cloud about her shoulders. Her eyes were bleary and slightly unfocused, either from a lack of sleep or sleeping too heavily. Her face was bare of makeup. She wore one of the hotel bathrobes over pink pajamas patterned with gray rabbits, and fluffy pink slippers on her feet.
Bryn (Dragon Hearts 3) Page 3