His Feverish Embrace: Real Men of Wildridge

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His Feverish Embrace: Real Men of Wildridge Page 4

by Kyle, Celia


  No way could the two of them meet. It would be catastrophic. It would destroy the carefully structured, delicate balance of their lives. And for what? So Thrett could waltz back into her life and screw up everything again, just like the first time?

  A little guilt wormed its way into her heart. Okay, a lot. She never imagined she’d be the kind of mother to keep her son from his father, but this… It was too much, too soon. Maybe in time, but for now, Trystin’s happiness and peace of mind were her top priorities. Until she could figure out how to break the news to both of them without causing major trauma to Trystin, she had to keep them apart.

  “You know,” she started, racking her brain for a solution, “having a strange dragon lurking in the office might alarm the kids, and it would definitely draw concern from parents.”

  Thrett sighed heavily. “Listen, Rylan, I know seeing me was probably a shock to the system, but—”

  “This isn’t about you, Thrett,” she lied as she stood. “I’m thinking about what’s best for the kids. And I think I have an even better place for you to use as your home base. Follow me.”

  Thrett looked unconvinced and even a little miffed, but he stood slowly, unfolding his long, muscular frame until she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact. Her nipples tightened in response to just how damn good he looked and she cursed them. Ignoring the betrayal of her body, she held her head high and walked out of the main office without so much as glancing at Ginette. She didn’t need to. She had no doubt in her mind her bestie was grinning from ear to ear.

  They didn’t speak as they crossed the campus, Rylan leading him to a small building as far away from the office and Trystin’s classrooms as possible. Turning to him she smiled and held out her hand like she was a game show model.

  “You’re joking, right?” Thrett asked as he surveyed the small shed.

  “What? It’s perfect,” she lied again and opened the door. A plume of dust billowed out, causing her to sneeze three times in a row.

  The tiny shed was packed with old, forgotten landscaping tools, a broken mower, bottles and boxes of what she prayed weren’t toxic chemicals, and a bunch of other junk. Their groundskeeper hadn’t used it in a year, not since she’d sprung for a newer, larger unit set closer to the main building. A single window about the size of Thrett’s head sat high in one wall, allowing a thin stream of diluted light to illuminate the interior. Rylan pulled a string hanging from overhead and a weak incandescent bulb gave a warm glow that was little better than mood lighting.

  Thrett stepped inside—or tried to—but he barely fit. Turning to her, he raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  Guilt gnawed at her belly again, but she had no choice except to stay the course. “It’ll be fine once I have the groundskeeper clear out all of this. I’m sure we can scrounge up a spare table and chair too. Besides, I assume you’ll spend most of your time patrolling the school grounds to keep the kids safe, so your accommodations hardly matter. Right?”

  His nostrils flared and a muscle in his jaw worked, but he remained silent, glaring at her.

  “Sorry,” she said, “but this is the best I can offer you. So, what’ll it be?”

  Chapter Four

  Thrett’s skin itched as he patrolled the grounds, shoving through a dense swath of shrubbery with satisfying vigor. He couldn’t decide if he was angry or turned on. Definitely restless, so it made sense to start prowling to burn off some of the tension that had built up inside him since first laying eyes on Rylan the day before.

  A shed? Seriously? Even with all of the junk out of it, he’d just barely be able to squeeze inside. Quite honestly, it was ridiculous. And an obvious ruse, which brought a smirk to his lips. If she was going to such lengths to keep him as far away from her as possible, it could only mean one thing. She wanted him.

  That didn’t hurt his already well-established ego any. Eight years was a long time to carry a torch for someone, and he should know. It was the primary reason—no, the only reason—he’d carried on like a tomcat all these years. Rylan had been a knockout at twenty-one, and after eight long years, he’d thought he was back on his feet. However, seeing her again had knocked him flat on his metaphorical ass once more. On top of that, she ran one of the most elite shifter schools in the country—and she was human! He’d known it back in the day and he knew it even more profoundly now. Rylan was one hell of a woman.

  Thrett shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. He couldn’t let himself follow that train of thought, or bad things would happen. Then again, bad things were kind of what he’d spent his whole career chasing. What was one more complication?

  He came to a stop at a large, gently swaying palm tree not far from the edge of the perimeter fence. He’d never really understood the appeal of palm trees, but they made good spots to hide security cameras. Tall vantage point and a thatch of fronds to hide the equipment while the bare trunk beneath offered unobstructed views. It wouldn’t be much of a trick for him to climb the tree barehanded to set up a camera. He imagined the look on Rylan’s face when she peered out her office window and saw him shimmying up the trunk, his bare torso shimmering with sweat and his muscles bulging—

  This wasn’t going well. He pressed his forehead to the rough trunk and breathed deeply.

  He’d never heard of a human being a fated mate to a dragon, but damned if he hadn’t wondered over the years. Their single night together had been so explosive, every detail was etched in his memory. The connection he’d felt with Rylan had rivaled anything he’d ever heard about fated mates, and he’d spent the better part of the night simply watching her with a lump in his throat before sleep eventually claimed him.

  He’d always considered himself a bit of a lone wolf…well, lone dragon, anyway. Commitments were for suckers. But the moment he’d seen Rylan from across the room, he’d known he would do anything for her. He’d have followed her to the ends of the earth, if she’d only asked. Then they’d slept together and his world flipped inside out.

  When he’d awakened in the morning to find her gone, he panicked. Surely something bad must have happened to her, but over the course of the day, he realized she’d simply ghosted him. There had been no sign of a struggle and she hadn’t left a note. Hell, she hadn’t even given him her last name. A meteor could have hit him that day and left him feeling less burned.

  Thrett watched distractedly as traffic cruised past the school, not really seeing the individual vehicles because he was too focused on the past. He vividly recalled trying to track her down, but not a single hotel, motel, or youth hostel in the area had hosted a guest with the first name of Rylan. For eight years, he’d wondered if she had even given him her real name.

  She had turned his world inside out and, after that night, he was never the same. It wasn’t as if he’d been inexperienced before her, but she’d changed him in such a deeply profound way he’d never been able to really connect with another woman again. The parade of beautiful women who had landed in his bed—more typically their beds—over the years were mere distractions. Maybe he’d even had a spark of hope that one of them might…

  Wait.

  His eyes finally focused on the street, where a black van caught his eye when its brake lights flared. He could almost make out the shape of two heads in the front, but it was hard to be sure with the tinted windows. Slipping behind the palm tree, Thrett watched the van slow to a stop along the curb just behind a thick hedgerow, hoping he didn’t look too much like a cartoon character trying to hide his large frame behind a narrow tree trunk.

  Nobody inside the school would be able to see the vehicle from their vantage point, but whomever was in the van had an unobstructed view of the school’s playground. Classes were still in session, but soon kids would come streaming out of the building for recess. The license plate matched the partial one the neighbors had reported. No doubt remained in Thrett’s mind. This was the van they’d been looking for and now they had grounds to make a move.

  Thrett pul
led the handheld radio from his belt and did his best to hide his movements behind the tree. “Thrett to Charlie. Do you copy?”

  “Copy that,” came the crackled reply, much too loudly. Thrett winced and lowered the volume.

  “I have visual on a black van with the winning license plate number on the south side of the school, near the playground.”

  “Excellent!” Thrett could almost see the grin on his boss’ face. “Grizz is patrolling the area by car. Grizz, do you copy?”

  “Copy. I’m about a block away. Sit tight, Thrett.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. In one smooth movement, he crouched low as he eased around the tree. The plan was to hide his bulk behind the hedge row and jump out in front of the van to get a good look at the suspects inside. The driver’s side window slid down about halfway, which would make his job even easier. Clear view of the perp. His heart raced in his chest as he inched closer and closer. Just a few more feet.

  “Thrett, they still there?” Charlie all but shouted into the radio.

  With the open window, the driver must have heard the radio call because the van started back up and peeled away from the curb.

  “Dammit!” Thrett barked. He sprinted in the direction the van was driving and radioed back to Charlie. “Van is heading westbound on Fifth at a high rate of speed! I’m in pursuit on foot!”

  “Negative!” Charlie snapped, his tone broaching no argument. Thrett kept running. “You are to remain on school premises. Grizz will pursue. Do you copy? Thrett! Do you copy?”

  He almost didn’t answer, but no one defied Charlie like that and got away with it. “But I’ve got a visual!”

  “You could have a visual on a decoy, Thrett! You must hang back to make sure the children aren’t left unprotected. Is that understood?”

  Thrett ground to a halt in the middle of the street, watching in dismay as the van sped around a corner and out of sight. Raking a hand through his hair, he clenched his teeth and fought the urge to shift into his dragon form to track the van.

  “Fine,” he snapped into the radio. “The van just turned down Marigold. Did you get that, Grizz?”

  “Copy!” came the reply. A moment later, a large black SUV sped past, Grizz at the wheel.

  Thrett clipped the radio onto his belt and headed back to the school, pissed off at missing out on the collar but knowing Charlie was right. If this was a professional operation, it was quite possible more bad guys were out there waiting for his attention to lapse. Thankfully, he spotted no other signs of possible intruders.

  He’d reached the playground by the time the recess bell rang. The doors burst open and a flood of kids surged out of the building like a mini prison break. The river of shifter children parted around him as they raced toward the playground. He felt a bit like a salmon swimming upstream again.

  Time to report the van sighting to the principal. Several teachers had joined the children, and they’d all been alerted to the situation, so they were also on high alert. He could take a minute to fill in Rylan on what had just gone down. It was the least he could do, even though he wanted to do so much more.

  * * *

  “I saw it this time!” Ginette gasped from the doorway of Rylan’s office.

  “Saw what?” Rylan asked, looking up from the budget report she’d been pouring over.

  “The van!”

  “Oh, crap!” Rylan launched herself from her chair so she could check out her window, but all she saw was shrubbery.

  “No, you can’t see where it was from in there,” Ginette said, waving her to the outer office. She pressed her body against the wall of windows and scooted back until she was jammed into the corner. “Here, you can see where it was from right here. It parked right behind the hedgerow. That studly hunka dragon meat chased them off before the bell rang.”

  Rylan wedged herself into the corner and saw the hedgerow in question but no sign of the van. She breathed a sigh of relief and was about to turn away when she spotted Thrett picking his way through a throng of little kids toward the main entrance. He was probably coming to give her an update, and panic jolted through her.

  Scanning the playground, she searched for Trystin. Recess was his favorite subject, so she knew he was out there somewhere. She just hoped he wasn’t anywhere near Thrett. There he was, over by the monkey bars, with a small group of other dragon shifter classmates. Over and over, he jumped up to reach the bars, but he was too short. All of his other friends could just release their cute little wings and flutter up there, but not Trystin.

  Her heart broke for her son. Being half-human had already marked him as different from full-blooded shifter kids, and the fact he had yet to develop any typical shifter skills only made it worse. In fact, over the course of his entire life, he’d never shown the slightest hidden ability and Rylan wondered if he ever would.

  Of course, Rylan didn’t mind that her son might not be capable of the same feats as his friends. She’d gone her whole life without paranormal powers, and it hadn’t stopped her from becoming the head of a secret school just for such people. He’d be fine in the long run, but it hurt her heart that he didn’t feel like he fit in. He was smart, funny, thoughtful, and highly empathetic—all traits that made him an excellent friend…to those who accepted him.

  Trystin tried again to jump up to the monkey bars but this time he landed funny and fell to the ground. She tensed, ready to run out to him, but he stood on his own easily, clearly unhurt. At least physically. The pain on his face when a couple of his peers snickered at his failure cut her to the core and made her mad as hell. She wanted to cry and rage at the same time as she watched him shuffle over to a nearby bench, shoulders hunched and head hung low. As much as she wanted to comfort him, though, she’d learned the hard way to leave him be until no other kids were around or the teasing would be so much worse.

  She was about to turn away, to shut away the sight of her son’s sadness until they were alone together, when she noticed Thrett detour from his course and head for Trystin.

  “Oh no,” Rylan murmured. “No, no, no.”

  “What, is the van back?” Ginette asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

  Rylan ignored her and willed her heart to slow down. From this distance, she was helpless to change the course of fate as it unfolded before her very eyes. The last thing she needed was for Trystin and Thrett to interact on any level. All Trystin would have to do was let slip the name of his mommy, and Thrett would put the whole jigsaw puzzle together in an instant. It was inevitable, she knew that, but she was still trying to wrap her head around everything and hadn’t figured out how to break it to them in the best possible way. She just needed a little more time.

  Thrett sat next to Trystin, who looked up at him sheepishly. They spoke for a minute, Thrett glancing at the monkey bars a couple of times. Then he did the strangest thing. He made a funny expression, puffed out his cheeks like Louis Armstrong and scrunched up his face like he was blowing really, really hard. Trystin giggled at the show, but then something bulged out of his back, pushing his button-down shirt away from his body.

  Trystin’s eyes grew wide and he watched intently. He said something and Thrett smiled. Then he stood, balled his little hands into fists and his entire body tensed. Part of Rylan wanted to rush out and tell him to stop, not wanting him to embarrass himself even more in front of his classmates, but she couldn’t move from the spot. She almost fell over when two little bumps poked at the back of her son’s shirt.

  Thrett helped him lift the fabric up over his head, and the kid went barreling toward the monkey bars with a renewed confidence and, more amazingly, a tiny pair of wings sprouting out of his back. His friends on the monkey bars were surprised, and they all cheered him on as he clumsily fluttered up to join them.

  Hot tears streaked down her face as she realized she’d pressed a hand against the window. Her son was finally was coming into his own as a half-dragon—and she wasn’t the one to get him there. As happy as she was for him
, she couldn’t deny feeling a little jealous that his absent father had been able to do what she never could.

  But another emotion wriggled around under the jealousy, one she’d been trying to fight for two days. Watching a bad-boy womanizer like Thrett sit so patiently and teach her child a life skill was a major turn-on.

  The one thing missing from Trystin’s life was a father figure—a good one, worthy of being a mentor to a kid as amazing as her son. She truly felt that being his parent was a privilege, an honor. Not just anyone was good enough for the job.

  She thought back to that fateful night, recalling how freaked out she’d been when Thrett had revealed the truth about himself. He probably didn’t even remember—he’d been half-asleep at the time—but it had changed everything.

  They’d been cuddled together after their second round of lovemaking. Thrett must have been drifting off, in that middle space between slumber and wakefulness, when he’s said, “I hope our kids take after me.”

  She’d thought it was cute he was talking about kids already, and truth be told, the idea excited her. It wasn’t as if she’d dated a lot through college, but the bond between her and Thrett was special. Her friends would have laughed at her, but she felt connected to him all the way down to her bones. If he’d been anyone else, she would have run screaming from his room at the mention of kids after a one-night stand—not that she’d ever engaged in one before. From the way he’d been talking, that wasn’t what either of them wanted. They both wanted more. So much more.

  She’d whispered, “Oh yeah? You want them to be players?”

  She’d figured she’d get some dreamy nonsense answer, but instead he’d said, “No, dragons.”

  At first, she’d thought that was a dreamy nonsense answer. She’d giggled and said, “Dragons don’t exist, silly.”

 

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