Draven’s Crossing:
Tempestuous Crossings
Selena Illyria
Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
DRAVEN’S CROSSING: TEMPESTUOUS CROSSINGS
Copyright © 2010 SELENA ILLYRIA
ISBN 978-1-936165-68-1
Cover Art Designed by Anastasia Rabiyah
Photograph © Jimmy Thomas, RomanceNovelCovers.com
Edited by D. Thomas Jerlo and Stephanie Taylor
To Diana, Cyn, H and Michelle.
Chapter One
His blood burned. Arousal slid up and down his spine, hardening his balls and causing his stomach to clench. Draven’s cock pressed against the zipper of his slacks, making him uncomfortable. He wanted to adjust his position, but had no desire to draw attention to himself. Eyeing the woman doing the presentation, he remained with his ass pressed against the ledge of the desk and prayed for relief soon. Her nervousness tinged the air with wisps of a sour perfume.
“As you can see, this charity ball will not only be good for our image, but also allow you some leverage with the parties involved in the negotiation for equal rights.” She licked her lips, making her already glossy mouth shine. He nearly groaned aloud; slick, puffy, red lips. That mouth would look so fucking sweet around my cock.
Unable to resist, he shifted his position, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure he felt. Just as he thought, her gaze darted toward him and then back at the group sitting around his board table. In an act of nervousness, she smoothed down the plain tan jacket of her suit, which only drew attention to the outline of her breasts. Full, ripe mounds that he was sure would fit perfectly in his hands. He shifted again from one foot to the other. The pressure inside of him ratcheted up another notch.
Licking her lips again, she bent over, ducking her head as she rifled through some papers on the table. Corkscrew curls bounced and shook at the small movement. Draven wanted to thread his fingers through those silken strands, grab a handful, and pound into her from behind. His cock jumped. Desire sizzled along his nerve endings and created a wildfire through his veins.
“Miss Andrews, your idea is a good one, but charity balls don’t exactly raise the revenue we’re hoping for,” one of his advisors pointed out. “The fetes always seem more for the haves rather than the have-nots. How are we supposed to make this accessible to everyone?”
Switching to business mode, Draven nodded in agreement and watched her reaction through narrowed eyes. Her nervousness increased, drawing out the predator in him. He wanted that reaction; he wanted her to fear and want him. An image of chasing her down a long, dark corridor danced before him. Her fear mingled with desire as he chased her. He loved it.
The woman, whose name he hadn’t caught when the meeting had started, smoothed her hands over a tight skirt that hugged her hips. A groan began in his chest. He squashed it, refusing to lose control, even though every cell in his body wanted to go to her, pull her out of the room and trace her figure with his hands before ripping off every stitch of clothing she wore. She licked her lips again. The groan returned, and he ignored it. Not yet, he admonished himself.
“That’s why the ticket price will only be five dollars, affordable to everyone,” she answered.
“And the ad campaign?” another of his advisors asked.
“We’ll have ads in every area of the city and on television,” she replied. She held her head high meeting his gaze. Confidence pushed away the earlier fear.
“As you can see, Rose has thought this plan through. If you read the information we passed out at the start of the meeting, you’ll have all the ways we intend to reach our target audiences and what we hope to accomplish with the charity ball. We look forward to your call.” Rose’s partner pushed back his chair and stood. It was clear that the meeting was over for him.
Rose, such a delicate name. I bet she has thorns to go with that beauty. Draven watched the scene play out. As usual, his advisors looked to him for guidance. He straightened, running his hands over his jacket, thankful that it was long enough to cover his erection. Focused on Rose, he stalked to the front of room.
“I’ll say when this is over. After all, I’m the mayor of this town.” Allowing a bit of power to roll over the room, he watched her nostrils flare. The fear was back in the air, and he drank it in. Standing close to her, but not quite touching, he watched her body stiffen. Something sweet and musky joined in the sour aroma wafting off of her. He almost smiled. My little flower finds me attractive.
“It was a good presentation, and you certainly answered the questions. Rose was it?” He allowed her name to come out in a gruff purr. Pausing, he watched her reaction. Her pupils dilated. She moved nearer, but only a millimeter or so. Disappointment twined with satisfaction. He wanted her closer, but knew that wouldn’t be possible. They were in a business setting, and there were people in the room with them. “Rose, you still haven’t guaranteed me that any of the money put into this venture would be returned to us and then some. I need to show that I can make money for this town. Elections are coming up. I may be in the lead, but my opponent makes a good point: out-of-towners don’t consider this a vacation spot. I need the hotels and motels booked up and the inns full. I need to cast a wider net with this, and all you’ve given me is local color.”
Draven invaded her personal space. If she allowed her fear to control her actions, she’d step back, and he would be disappointed. Rose didn’t disappoint him. Tilting her head on a slim neck, she looked right into his eyes. No fear. Fuck, she’s perfect. Very few people looked a vampire in the eyes. Especially not one as old as he was.
“That’s why there will be commercials and internet ads placed on high traffic sites. Ones directed at the type of clientele we want coming to our fair city,” she responded with challenge in her eyes and tone. Holding her head higher, she looked like a queen instead of a simple mortal.
Waving away her words with his hand, he countered her argument. “People will fast forward through it with their DVRs and use ad blocker, so they won’t see it. Give me something else.” He leaned down and pressed his size upon her short height. Draven guessed her to be about five feet, three inches to his six feet, five inches. Bringing his face closer, he inhaled her scent. Musky desire joined with the heat of challenge along with the soft mix of the jasmine, roses, lavender, vanilla that made up her perfume, and something else.
“So, we’ll do flyers.”
“Fodder for the recycle bin.” He held back a smile as thoughts flitted across her face like lightning.
Her lips thinned, and she refused to break eye contact. “We’ll form a street team like musicians do.”
“They’ll want perks. What can we give them? I need more ideas,” he pressed.
“Celebrity endorsements,” she shot back.
“Who could we possibly get? They’d demand pay.” He leaned his head closer, taking in more of her heady perfume. Her fragrance, her presence, everything she was seeped into him and went straight to his head. It had been centuries since someone had intrigued him like this.
“We’ll say it’s for charity, because you’re supposed to be the grandson of Dracula.” Th
e gasps from around the room told him that his advisors felt she’d gone too far.
Draven had never spoken about his heritage, nor did he like to discuss his relationship with one of the world’s most notorious vampires. He hated his great-grandfather, which was very well known. Instead of dismissing her, he rose to her challenge.
“I loathe the spotlight. I may love this town, but I won’t whore myself for it.” Draven waited for her response, sensing she wasn’t done.
“And yet you’re the mayor. Doesn’t that mean you whore yourself anyway?” She blinked. Spice infused her essence as embarrassment appeared on her face. He smelled the blood rushing to the surface of her skin, hot, metallic heaven.
“Miss Andrews that’s uncalled for,” someone admonished.
“Rose, apologize. Sir, I’m so sorry, she didn’t mean that,” her associated started.
“Yes, she did.” Draven murmured. If we were alone, I’d be balls deep inside of her, fucking both our brains out. Damn, she’s glorious. His incisors throbbed. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and his dick pressed more persistently against his fly as yearning flared hot enough to burn inside of him. Rose stepped back. He almost brought his hand to reach out and draw her into his orbit again. Instead, he let her go, tasting her need for distance. The hunter in him hated to put anything between them, even if it was air. He continued to look at her, wanting her more with each second that passed.
“And she’s right.” He gave her a smile. “But that doesn’t excuse her not having any ideas for how to reach those outside of our town. I want this ball to be on par with Carnevale di Venice.”
Turning his back on her was hard, but he had to. He walked across the room, settled down behind his desk and allowed his gaze to wander over everyone in the room before settling back on Rose.
“I have a challenge for you, Ms. Andrews. Give me what I want, and if I win this election, I’ll put you in charge of my P.R.” And I’ll make sure that we’ll be using every inch of this office to fuck on. You will be mine, Rose Andrews.
She nodded her head. Embarrassment still tinged her perfume. “I’ll try my best.”
“No, Ms. Andrews. You’ll do your best. There’s a difference. Meeting dismissed. I have a newspaper interview to prep for.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, and they scattered like birds. With great regret, he watched Rose leave with them. It was necessary. His patience had been pushed to the limit. Any more time with her and Draven was sure that he would have created a scandal for both of them.
As soon as Rose left his sight, his mind turned over the meeting. One thing snagged in his mind; David's reaction to Rose's mistake. His stomach lurked. He had a bad feeling the werewolf would try something. He summoned his head of security, Hamilcar. The black dragon appeared in a puff of black smoke and bowed low.
"I'm concerned about the woman that just left my office. Send over some security to Rose Andrews' apartment. I believe her boss will try to harm her. Bastard probably whips his own mother for a simple mistake."
Hamilcar bowed again and disappeared.
"Damn, black dragon," Draven muttered.
* * * *
Rose’s legs shook. She felt dizzy, as if her body had crashed in on itself. Horror at what she had done took precedence as she watched David step onto the elevator. His hard features and tight-lipped expression said it all. If Draven hadn’t laid down the challenge to her, she would have been fired as soon as they’d left the meeting. She still couldn’t believe she’d said that. It was common knowledge among those who lived in the town how much Draven loathed his great-grandfather, yet her mouth and brain had stopped communicating.
His spicy cologne had gone to her head. The nearness and heat of his body had pushed her libido into overdrive. She wanted him closer, but as far away as possible. Part of her feared him, yet another half of her wanted to know more. His liquid grey eyes had never left her from the moment she’d entered the room. It had been a heady feeling and at the same time, terrifying. Based on Draven’s response to her, he wanted something from her. Something she wasn’t sure she could give.
“What the fuck, Rose?” David demanded, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“I’m sorry?” She shook her head to dislodge the thoughts of steel colored eyes watching her as she came, screaming his name for the world to hear.
“You’re damn right you’re sorry. How could you do that? You know how he feels about Dracula, and yet you brought it up. You’re pretty damn lucky he decided to put you on the case and that he wanted to fuck you.” David grunted.
Rose shifted away from him. It really sucks to have a werewolf as your boss.
“I’m taking over the case. You’ll present to him, but I’ll be running the show.”
She wanted to be outraged, to demand that he let her take the reins, but doubted he would allow it. It was clear she’d fucked up big time. The fact that David had noticed Draven’s response to her only made things worse. Rose vowed to go along with it, but come face time with Draven, she’d inject some of her own ideas.
“After this is over you’re taking a leave of absence. You’re going to think about what you did and if this firm is right for you,” he spat out.
“Look, David, I’m not a bad dog who just went on the carpet. I screwed up, but I hardly think—”
“You’re damn right you didn’t think. And you did go on the carpet. You pissed all over it by bringing up Dracula. A rookie mistake that won’t be repeated. We clear?” David snapped.
She opened and shut her mouth. “Yeah, crystal.”
“Good,” he growled out.
The ride down to the garage was done in silence. Rose stewed silently in rage at his treatment of her. I’ll show you rookie. If I nail this, I won’t need your stupid firm. Marching over to her car, she unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. She tossed her briefcase into the passenger seat then slammed the door shut. Turning the key, she allowed the stress to float away at the sound of the engine purring. For a moment, she melted into the deep, plush leather seats. Rose stroked the wheel.
“My sweet Corvette Sting Ray, you’ll make all my problems go away, won’t you?” Revving the engine, she took off with a squeal of tires. There was no traffic outside of the capital building. Late afternoon sunshine blinded her for a second before her glasses adjusted and darkened. The lack of vehicles gave her a brief reprieve from having to think about avoiding any other cars. With her eyes on the road, she reached over and switched on the radio. Angry metal blared through the speakers. She gritted her teeth.
“I said I was sorry. It’s not like he hasn’t fucked up before. How many times have I covered his ass when he screwed up and hadn’t read my notes? Think about my actions? Bullshit. He’s lucky I even joined his stupid firm. I’m twenty-seven years old, graduated top of my class. I had my pick of firms, and I chose yours. Prick. I wanted to work with the para-people. Now I have to deal with an asshole werewolf for a boss who thinks he can slack off. Whatever. After this case, I’ll leave, join the competition. They’ll at least pay me my due.” Rose jerked the wheel and turned on to the street leading to the heart of the city. Slowing down her speed, she reached over and switched the station to classical music. A gentle twittering told her that she had a phone call.
“Answer phone,” she told the onboard computer. “Hello?”
“Ms. Andrews,” Draven purred over the speakers. Her body tightened as arousal reignited in her body. Tingles ran along her pussy lips and burned at the base of her back. Her vaginal walls contracted. Prickles ran along her skin as her response increased. Her breasts grew full and began to ache. She almost jerked the wheel again, which would have crashed her into one of the trees lining the streets.
“I hope I’m not distracting you, but I wanted to book an appointment with you directly instead of going through your office. I hope you don’t mind.” He didn’t sound sorry in the least for calling her.
Rose pulled over to the side of the road as her desire amplified. She swall
owed and pushed down the need that danced along her nerve endings. After licking her lips, she answered him. “Not at all, sir. What time did you have in mind?”
Her clit swelled, throbbing with need. She fought against squirming in her seat, searching for relief.
“Please…” he paused, “…call me, Draven. And anytime you’re available. Tell me when.”
His tone had dropped to a husky whisper that had her straining closer to the hands free phone plugged into her car. She tried to ignore the throb of her nipples and the dampness of her panties.
“In fact, I’m free for dinner tonight. Would you be willing to come up to my home to discuss your ideas over a meal? I’ll have the chef prepare something exquisite.”
Dinner? At the moment she wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but his tone made it sound like something dirty, filthy. Sweat beaded on her brow as the fire inside was stoked.
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