Falling for Her Dragons [Dragon Love 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

Breaking through the bushes seemed a lot harder than it had the first time. Almost as though the bush had grown extra branches.

  I have to get Dr. Rump help.

  She pushed on, ignoring the scratches to her arms and legs. Pressing on, relief flooded her when she practically fell into the open. But the house was nowhere in sight. “What the hell? Where am I?”

  Pulling off her shoes, she took another sip of champagne. “Keep going.”

  She stopped, bottle once again pressed against her chest. “Where was I going?” Rubbing her eye, she tried to make sense of her surroundings, but the world had grown even blurrier.

  “Fuck, I drank too much. Or is it drunk? I can never remember. Oh, who the hell cares?” She forged ahead. No doubt, she’d wind up at the house sooner or later.

  And then I’ll…

  She stopped again, frowning at the idea that wouldn’t quite jell.

  And then I’ll do what? Why am I in such a hurry?

  She closed her eyes and tried to remember. There was something very urgent she had to do.

  Think, damn it. Think.

  The image of Dr. Rump’s prone body came back to her.

  “Oh, shit. Help. I’m going for help.” She picked up her pace. At times, however, it felt as though she was going sideways more than forward. Her feet hurt, and the bottle was getting closer to being empty. Holding it up to the light, she scowled at less than an inch of alcohol remaining. “Megan was right. Getting shit-faced at the reception was stupid.”

  Disgusted with herself, she threw the bottle as hard as she could. It landed less than five feet away. “Fuck. I can’t even throw worth shit.”

  Get going. Dr. Rump needs help.

  Yet deep inside her she realized that he was past helping.

  He’s dead. Fuck.

  She kept moving, needing to find someone, anyone who could help, not only Dr. Rump but her. Had the killer realized she was there? But if she had, why hadn’t she turned around and looked in her direction?

  Harper stumbled in her haste to go faster. Maybe it was all a bad dream and she’d wake up in a minute. Or maybe it was a drunken hallucination? At this point, she wanted to believe anything except what she’d seen.

  A train whistle blasted the air. Looking down, she was surprised to find a train track only a yard from her feet.

  The train track? Shit. I walked the wrong way.

  Another whistle came, along with the unmistakable sound of a roaring engine. Slowly she looked up to see the train bearing down on her. She didn’t have time to jump back, even if her mind could’ve reacted that quickly. Instead, she stood at the side of the track and closed her eyes.

  Fuck. I’m going to die.

  Chapter Two

  Holy shit!

  Pike Killian, Emeralian Dragon, folded his wings to his side, putting him into a nosedive. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized that, despite the speed of his descent, he wouldn’t get to the woman in time.

  Move!

  Silently, he urged her to step back. Even a foot might make all the difference.

  Down he went. If he didn’t pull up soon, he’d drive straight into the ground.

  The train whizzed past her. Her hair, a lovely shade of brunette highlighted with strands of chestnut, was blown back from her shoulders. Her yellow dress plastered against her, showing all her ample curves.

  Throwing her arms up, she fell backward and didn’t move.

  He pulled up hard, barely managing to land on his feet. In his haste to reach her, he dropped the cloak that shielded his body. At that very moment, the woman opened her eyes and turned her head.

  Shit.

  He couldn’t be certain, but judging from the way she stared at him, her eyes wide with shock, it was a good bet that she’d seen him as a dragon. Shifting as fast as he could and hoping no one was nearby to see him, he ran for the girl lying so very close to the outer rail of the track.

  He went to his knees and pulled her onto his lap. She was even lovelier up close than she was from above. Thankfully, he didn’t see any injuries other than a few pinpricks of red along her arms and neck, the result of pebbles flying out from under the train’s wheels. “Hey, lady, are you all right?”

  Lady didn’t feel like the right thing to call her. Not that she wasn’t a lady. From the way she was dressed and her overall appearance, she was definitely a lady. But somehow the word seemed too formal for her. Even with her eyes closed and no reaction to his question, she seemed friendly. Her sweet, oval face couldn’t belong to anyone who wasn’t a nice person.

  He tightened his hold on her, enjoying the way her body pressed against his. She was a lady, yes, but also a woman with womanly curves. Curves that were already making his body perk up and take notice. He slid his gaze over her again, taking more time to enjoy her shape than to look for any wounds.

  Her moan jerked him back to reality. Shaking her gently, he tried again to rouse her. “Are you all right?”

  Blue eyes, bluer than the ocean off the coast of Jamaica, met his. Although he’d never call himself a romantic, he would’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Hi. How are you doing?”

  She blinked then smiled.

  Any man would’ve killed to have her smile at him. Somehow he’d gotten very lucky to be that man.

  “What happened?”

  Her voice suited her. All soft around the edges. A sexy voice. One that added to the stirring under his jeans. “You tell me. What were you doing standing so close to the tracks? You almost got yourself killed.”

  “I did? Urp.”

  He reared back and made a face. Maybe she was a lady, but she had one hell of a belch.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  He waited a moment for the stench to subside then gave her a smile of his own. “Don’t worry about it. What’d you think you were doing?”

  “I’ve got to go.” She tried to sit up but couldn’t, falling back onto his lap.

  “Take it easy. Tell me who you are and where you need to go.”

  Her ocean-blue eyes stared up at him as a frown creased her forehead. “Wait. Did you see—”

  Shit.

  “See what?” His chest tightened as he readied himself.

  “Did you see a—?”

  Fortunately, she didn’t finish the question. Unfortunately, what she did instead wasn’t much better.

  “Urrrrrp.”

  If he’d pushed her aside, he might’ve missed being the target of her vomit. But like the gentleman he was, he held on to her and even held her hair away from her face.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Tell me what you were doing.” A horrible idea came. “You weren’t trying to kill yourself, were you?”

  “Kill?” Again, her beautiful blue eyes widened. “No, but I think I saw someone kill my new boss.”

  She was definitely drunk, but was she telling the truth? “You saw a murder?”

  At least this time, she managed to cover her mouth before she belched. A giggle followed. “I thought so, but maybe I didn’t. I couldn’t have seen a dragon, either, right?” She giggled again. “Why’d I see a dragon instead of a pink elephant?”

  “I don’t know.” He was relieved that she already doubted what she’d seen. Yet she really had seen a dragon. Did that mean she’d actually seen a murder? He glanced around, half expecting someone to come charging toward them, ready to kill her for being a witness. They needed to get out of there. “What’s your name?”

  “Harper.” Suddenly, she went pale, heralding yet another upchuck.

  He eased her onto her side and let her rip. Once she was finished, he pulled her onto her back again. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was normal.

  She passed out. Damn it. Now what do I do with her?

  If he took her back into Dallas or to a police station, he’d have to answer too many questions. Why was he on the train tracks? Why didn’t he call 9-1-1? What did he know about a murder? Although he was fairly certain he could give the a
uthorities answers that would satisfy them, he didn’t like the idea of being questioned. The fewer people who knew about him and his friends, the better. As dragons, they worked hard to keep a low profile.

  He looked down at her again, studying the pouty lips and long, dark eyelashes. Her face was one he could look at for a long time and never get bored. In fact, there was something about her that tugged at his insides—and in more than a sexual way.

  What were his options?

  He could leave her where she was and pretend he’d never seen her. Of course, he’d move her farther away from the tracks. But he dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. Leaving a defenseless woman alone and passed out? Not his style.

  He could call for help then leave once they were close enough that he was sure they’d find her. But that didn’t sit well with him, either. It felt kind of chickenshit.

  He could carry her to the nearest house and leave her on their doorstep. Nope. Again, chickenshit.

  He could fly her to the nearest hospital and, again, leave her. Once more, he nixed the idea. No Emeralian Dragon would leave a helpless woman.

  He had no choice. He’d fly her back to the ranch. If she woke up during the flight, she’d be scared out of her mind, but it was worth the risk. Besides, the ranch wasn’t that far.

  “Okay, sugar-pie, you’re coming home with me.”

  He stood up, checked the area again for anyone who might be watching, and then let the transformation flow through him. Wings and a tail sprouted as the world lost its color and became blanketed in a red hue. His body enlarged, spreading outward and casting a shadow over the woman and the ground. He ached to let loose with either a blast of flames or a growl but refrained, knowing either might draw unwanted attention. Instead, he hurriedly drew his cloak around him. If anyone stared hard enough in his direction, they’d see only the shimmers the cloak made. Most humans would dismiss the shimmers as an oddity of the air or heat waves rising from the ground.

  “Okay, Harper whoever-you-are, it’s time for liftoff.” He spoke telepathically, as all weredragons did when they were in their beastly forms. Gently wrapping his claws around her, he tucked her safely against his chest. Then, lifting his head skyward, he pushed off, sending his body upward. He was well above the ground and out of sight in less than a minute.

  * * * *

  Harper couldn’t keep her eyes open. She tried but couldn’t. Still, she’d try again. How could she not when every time she opened her eyes she saw a sweeping landscape below her. It was as though she were gazing down from a plane. Except that she wasn’t in a plane. She was enclosed in a grip that was both secure and yet allowed the wind to blow over her body.

  What’s happening?

  I’m flying like a bird.

  Her eyelids grew heavy again, forcing her back into the darkness.

  * * * *

  “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”

  The voice was angry. Harper curled into the comforting hold of strong arm wrapped around her waist.

  “What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave her there? She was alone, drunk, and unable to fend for herself.”

  Yeah, he was right. Except for the part about not being able to defend herself. She hadn’t taken years of self-defense training for nothing. She could hold her own with most men. At least, when she wasn’t full of champagne.

  “Get her upstairs and into a shower. We need to get her sobered up.”

  Three voices, three men. If only she could lift her head enough to see if their faces were as hot as their voices.

  The hard body next to hers kept her moving up the stairs. She leaned against him, not only to stay on her feet but because he felt so damn good. By the time she put her foot on the top step, she was ready to ask him to carry her so she could have both his arms around her.

  The hardwood flooring she’d stared at through the house and up the stairs continued as they went down a hallway. Through one door and then the next, she listened to them discuss the best way to get her into a shower.

  “Nooo. No bazz.” Her words sounded jumbled. Was that only in her ears or in theirs, too?

  “What’d she say?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “Still don’t know why you brought her here.”

  “Damn it, I told you. She saw me. That and I think she mumbled something about a murder.”

  Murder.

  Dr. Rump.

  She straightened up and flattened her hands against the man holding her. “Oh shit. Dr. Rump. Someone call the coppers.”

  “It’s okay, Harper. You’re okay. Don’t worry about anything.”

  Oh, how easy it would be to do what he asked. Don’t worry, he’d said. So she shoved thoughts of Dr. Rump away.

  Green eyes met hers, and she forgot what she was going to say next. They were the color of the moss on the north side of a tree but so much richer, deeper, and filled with a knowledge that came from years of experience. A strong face surrounded those eyes with a steel-cut jaw she ached to touch. Would it cut her hand if she slid her fingers along it?

  “Did you get that?”

  The room spun as she turned toward the voice. Black eyes, darker than any she’d even seen, studied her. He, too, had a handsome face with longish black hair making a perfect frame.

  “Nope,” answered Green Eyes.

  “The shower’s going. Get inside with her.”

  “Peel off her clothes.”

  She found the third man as Green Eyes held her steady and helped Black Eyes pull off her heels. Resisting wasn’t on her mind when they tugged her dress over her head and dumped it on the floor. The third man was as gorgeous as his two friends. His eyes, however, were even more spectacular than the eyes of the other two men Silver glinted with bits of red in them, making her wonder if they were natural or if he was wearing customized colored contact lenses. Still, she doubted any man who dressed as ruggedly as he did in worn boots, worn jeans, and a faded blue T-shirt would ever wear fake-colored contacts. Black Eyes and Green Eyes were dressed in a similar casual manner.

  The light in the huge bathroom was dimmed, casting flattering shadows over her fluffy body. If three men had ever undressed her before, leaving her in her old bra and big-girl panties, she would’ve been humiliated. Not that three men had ever wanted to get her undressed at the same time. Yet standing there in the dim light, as they looked at her like no one had ever looked at her, had the opposite effect on her. She felt emboldened, confident, and, strangest of all, sexy as hell.

  “Take them off, darlin’.”

  She stared at Silver Eyes. Did he expect her to get totally naked? “All the way?”

  Her vision went from clear to blurred again. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d gotten drunk before, but she’d never had problems like these.

  “Unless you want me to do it for you.” He smiled, hunger written on his face.

  Yes, please. “No. Not naked.”

  “Then I’ll do it for you.” He stepped toward her.

  Her pulse jumped, sending her heart into a quick romp.

  “Hold up,” said Black Eyes. “Go on and keep them on. They’ll have time to dry while you sleep it off.”

  “Whatever. Into the shower, baby.”

  She clasped her hand around Silver Eyes’ neck and tried to pull him in along with her. Green Eyes tugged harder, making her step over the low threshold and into the steam-filled shower. At first she resisted then gave in.

  Then she realized that he was naked. When had he gotten undressed?

  Hot water struck her, forcing her to fling her body away from the stream. “Too hot.”

  “Not hot enough.”

  A thrill rushed through her as Silver Eyes took hold of her arm and pulled her back toward the heavy flow of water. He, too, had gotten undressed when she wasn’t looking.

  She dared to glance down and then promptly brought her gaze back to his. He wasn’t fully erect, and he was already longer than anyone she’d ever seen. Even a
s the water streamed over her, her mouth dried up.

  “Harper, what’s your last name?”

  She yearned to look down again. To skim her gaze along their broad chests and follow the Vs that pointed to their cocks. Cocks she’d love to take in her hands.

  But she couldn’t. She was confident in her job and in most situations, but when it came to men, she was as cowardly as a virgin in a room full of testosterone-pumping men.

  Besides, she was a drowned rat. A chubby, drowned rat that was now very aware of her body’s flaws. Self-awareness struck her hard, spurring her back into the world of the sober. Sober, that is, in comparison to what she’d been a few minutes ago. Instead of lusting after them, she should be yelling, scratching, and fighting to get away.

  Who the hell were these guys who had kidnapped her and taken her to God-knew-where? Sure, they were handsome, but they were also manhandling her. Never mind that their manhandling was making her hot between the legs.

  “Back off, azzholes.” She leaned against the tile wall and brought her hands up in a defensive position.

  Green Eyes and Silver Eyes seemed oblivious to the hot water striking their backs and streaming down their oh-so-massive chests. Black Eyes, the only one with his clothes still on, laughed from outside the shower.

  “Looks like she’s coming around, boys.” His smile was crooked with just the right amount of cockiness.

  “Harper, take it easy. You’re safe,” insisted Green Eyes.

  She didn’t let her guard down. Although her self-defense classes had taught her many scenarios in which she might have to defend herself, they’d never taught her what to do when backed into a corner in a shower with two naked men and another standing outside the shower ready to catch her if she bolted.

  “How do you know my name?” Why would anyone want to kidnap her? She didn’t have any money or family who cared. They wouldn’t have taken her for sex. She wasn’t the type of girl sexual predators lusted after.

  “You told me. Remember? By the train tracks?”

  Train tracks. She frowned, doing her best to drag the foggy memory back. Until she could, she’d go on the offensive. “Who are you guys? Where am I?”