His Feverish Embrace: Real Men of Wildridge

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His Feverish Embrace: Real Men of Wildridge Page 5

by Kyle, Celia


  “Uh huh,” he’d grunted in his dozing state, and then the most incredible, impossible thing happened.

  His body heated up and grew larger. Scales popped out in patches along his arms and back. His face stretched out a bit and a tendril of smoke wafted from his left nostril. In a blink of the eye, he was back to his normal, sexy self, leaving Rylan blinking in shock.

  She’d tried to talk herself into thinking she’d been dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe he’d put something in her drink. But she knew better. She’d been taught to trust her own senses, and those senses told her the man lying next to her wasn’t completely human, like her.

  To say she’d been freaked out would be the understatement of the century. She’d huddled in the chair across from the bed for hours, watching him sleep and willing him to be human. But every once in a while, a little puff of smoke would drift up from the bed, and she’d decided she had to face the truth, as crazy as it seemed.

  She’d dressed quietly, terrified he’d wake up and blast her with dragon fire, or chomp her in half, or…whatever dragons did to those who pissed them off. It was insanity, the very idea, but she’d also known it to be true. Just as she’d known they had a special connection.

  It nearly killed her to leave, every cell in her body screaming to crawl back into bed with him, but she did the only thing that made sense at the time. She left. They hadn’t exchanged last names, numbers or even emails. He had no way of finding her and vice versa. It was the end.

  Except it wasn’t. Trystin was proof of that.

  And now Thrett was back, having “man-to-man” talks with their son and plaguing her every waking thought. And lots of her sleeping thoughts too.

  The door to the outer office opened and Thrett sauntered in, looking as good as ever. Maybe even better, now that she’d seen him helping Trystin. Her heart sped up in response and her mouth dried up, leaving her momentarily mute. Thankfully, Ginette picked up the slack.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lacerta,” she said in an overly sweet tone.

  “Morning.” He barely glanced her way. “Rylan, I just spotted—”

  “I know,” she said curtly. “Ginny saw the whole thing.”

  “Okay, good. It’s pretty clear from the way they raced off that they’re up to no good. We need to get some of those security measure we discussed in place ASAP.”

  Rylan swallowed hard. The safety of the children was her priority, but she was also keenly aware that Trystin was still at recess, which meant he could burst into the office at any moment. In fact, it was all but inevitable since he’d just figured out how to unfurl his wings. He’d be too excited to wait to tell her. If Thrett found out Trystin was her son, he’d know instantly and she still wasn’t ready for the truth to come out. Not yet.

  “Of course,” she started, guiding him toward the door “but I’m, um, really bogged down at the moment. Why don’t we set up an appointment for tomorrow and we’ll get all of the details nailed down then.”

  Thrett scowled at her. “What are you talking about? This is important, Rylan.”

  “I know, but I’m busy right now,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I have a solution,” Ginette said, far too happily. “Why not discuss it over dinner?”

  A mischievous glint appeared in Thrett’s eyes. “Excellent idea. I’ll make a reservation at Chez Henri.”

  Rylan stared at him in horror, unable to form coherent thoughts, much less words.

  “Ooh la la, fancy,” Ginette cooed.

  “I, uh…” Rylan stammered.

  “Pick you up at seven?” he asked, his voice lowering to an almost seductive register.

  She had to shake herself out of her lustful stupor. “No! I, um, I’ll meet you there.”

  Thrett’s face split into a grin. “Excellent, it’s a date!”

  Before she could object that it most certainly wasn’t a date, he turned on his heel and swept out of the office.

  Chapter Five

  Rylan checked her watch for the millionth time. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, the cold snap of humiliation pricking at her spine. She’d been standing on the sidewalk out front of one of the hottest French restaurants in town for approximately ten years already. Okay, maybe it had only been ten minutes. Same diff.

  It was time to face facts. She’d been stood up.

  Rylan had a tendency to show up early for everything. It was just another facet of what Ginette called her “functional type-A” personality. She was the kind of woman who kept a very detailed planner and relied on it almost religiously. Her oversized purse always had a small notebook and several pens, along with all of the other doodads she couldn’t live without. Rylan liked to be prepared for anything and everything. It was just part of who she was.

  But this? Nothing could have prepared her for this.

  Another happy couple strolled past her, shooting her curious glances as they entered Chez Henri. She felt like a total fool standing outside like that, but it had been a thousand times worse inside.

  As was her habit, she’d arrived fifteen minutes early, so she’d taken a seat at the bar to wait for Thrett. That wasn’t so unusual, but after a half-hour of sipping the same glass of Chardonnay, people around her began to notice.

  Their pitying looks burned the back of her neck from across the room. No one ate solo at such a romantic restaurant. They were probably whispering about her, dreaming up all sorts of tragic narratives of what had brought her to such a lowly state.

  After the maître d’ had informed her she would either have to take the table alone or give up the reservation, she’d pushed away her glass, thrown down some cash, and walked outside with her head held high. Forget that her insides had turned to red, angry, pulsating mush. She still had one last shred of dignity remaining, and by the time she made it to the sidewalk, it had snapped.

  She’d decided to wait for Thrett a little while longer, just so she could rip him a new one, but her embarrassment grew with every passing minute. If he didn’t show up soon, she’d just have to stew in her fury all night. Not pleasant, but at least it would give her the opportunity to come up with the perfect dressing down he deserved.

  Pushing off the brick wall that had been holding her up, she took a step toward her house when she heard heavy footsteps approaching quickly. Glancing down the street, she did a double take. Thrett jogged toward her wearing the same clothes he’d had on earlier. Not only was the jerk really late, but he hadn’t even bothered to dress nicely.

  She, on the other hand, had spent far too long digging through her closet for the perfect outfit. It had to strike the perfect balance between professional and sexy as hell. In the end she’d settled on a form-fitting black pencil skirt and a loose cream silk blouse with one too many buttons undone. The strappy black heels that were killing her feet had been snapped up on sale, or she never could have afforded them. All in all, she looked good. Too good for the way Thrett was dressed, that was for damn sure.

  Rylan struck a pissed-off pose—one fist jammed onto her cocked-out hip, eyes narrowed, glossy lips pursed—and waited for the player jogging toward to mess with her head. No doubt he’d make up some lame excuse, try to make her believe they were supposed to meet at seven-thirty, or maybe even make her think it was all her fault somehow. She’d seen it before, especially with love-em-and-leave-em types like Thrett.

  “You’re late,” she said without a hint of softness in her voice when he reached her.

  “I know,” he said, a little out of breath and giving her an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Rylan. Practice for the school play ran long and I couldn’t leave until the last kid was picked up. You can call the drama teacher to verify, if you like.”

  She gave him a little side-eye. “Why didn’t you call me to let me know?”

  His smile grew mischievous. “Because you never gave me your number.”

  “Oh.”

  “I really am sorry.” He took a step closer and his musky, slightly smo
ky scent almost made her lose her balance.

  “I—I’m surprised you stuck around for all of that,” she said, leaning away to clear her head.

  His expression grew serious. “Not gonna lie, I wasn’t thrilled when my boss told me remain on campus until the last kid left the premises, but…” He scraped a hand across his whiskered cheek. “When I saw that van surveilling the school, I got it. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not about to put a single one of the students at risk just because it’s inconvenient or doesn’t fit into my schedule. Neither of us can protect them from the whole world, but at least we can keep them safe when they’re on school grounds.”

  His dedication to his job and her students impressed Rylan. Maybe he wasn’t the self-centered, irresponsible playboy she’d built up in her head. If she’d been wrong about that, what else was she wrong about? Maybe nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out.

  “Thank you,” she said softly and then glanced at the restaurant’s door. “We lost our reservation, I’m afraid, but I do know of a great falafel place a couple of blocks away. You in?”

  His smile nearly made her knees buckle. “Oh yeah. All in.”

  She blinked rapidly at his response. What the hell did he mean by that? Didn’t matter. This was a business meeting, not a date—no matter how dizzy he made her. Time to get the conversation back on track.

  “So what’s the next step?” she asked as she set off toward the falafel place.

  Thrett fell in step with her. “Well, first of all, I need more access.”

  “Access? To what?”

  “Files, classrooms, staff. I need to interview the entire staff and wouldn’t mind talking to some of the students, if you don’t think it would be too frightening. I’ve already garnered some quality intel from a couple of particularly perceptive young boys.”

  Rylan stumbled at that, partly out of surprise because she knew one of those boys was her—their—son and partly from not being used to walking in spiky heels. But Thrett’s reaction time was fast. She’d barely wobbled before he’d snaked an arm around her waist to steady her.

  “Thanks, I’m…um, I’m good,” she sputtered as she tried to wriggle out of his hold.

  He released her but took her hand and tucked it into his crooked elbow. “Just in case,” he murmured, resting his hand on hers a moment longer than necessary.

  “Of course, I’ll need to review any security footage you have,” he continued as though nothing had happened. “Those cameras I’ve seen are active, right?”

  “Yes, but there aren’t very many, I’m afraid. You can have whatever you need there, but I draw the line at interviewing students unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “I get that. If I feel the situation warrants it, I’ll discuss it with you first. Okay?”

  “Sounds fair. I just don’t want to scare them, you know?”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know. In the meantime, our team will install more cameras so we can keep all the blind spots these guys like to hang in full view at all times. Don’t worry, we’re really close to tracking them down.”

  Rylan found herself relaxing into the conversation about Benningford’s security system to the point they almost walked right by their destination. When Thrett realized, his eyebrows shot up.

  “A food truck?” he asked.

  “What? Best falafel in town. The shawarma’s good too.”

  “I dunno. You might be a little over-dressed,” he teased gently.

  “And whose fault is that?” she teased back.

  They ordered two big platters of food and took a seat at a rusty metal table. Twinkle lights had been strung in the trees overhead to provide mood lighting and music played loudly enough to hear but low enough to hold a conversation. It was one of Rylan and Trystin’s favorite spots for a quick meal and it felt weird to bring Thrett there. Good weird.

  As they bit into their sandwiches and groaned with happiness, she felt the stress of the day melting away. He seemed less uptight too, and Rylan caught herself peeking at him over her pita as they ate.

  “I owe you an apology,” she finally said, setting down her food.

  “Mmhmm?” he mumbled with a full mouth.

  “I shouldn’t have made that snarky comment about you being the king of one-night stands. It was uncalled for.”

  Thrett swallowed and then gave her a soft smile. “Apology accepted, though not necessary. It wasn’t like you were entirely wrong. At least in recent years.”

  She dropped her gaze to her plate, unable to look him in the eye for fear he’d see the red-hot jealousy blazing in them. “Yeah, Ginny mentioned that several teachers at school told her you have a, um…one-night rule.”

  When she chanced a glance up, he looked somber. Hardly the braggartly arrogance she’d expected. “I do.”

  “Guess we don’t have to worry about that then. Do we? We already had our one night. Pressure’s off.”

  She tried to chuckle at her lame attempt at humor but it sounded hollow to her own ears. Thrett just looked downright sad.

  “You’re the reason, you know,” he said, putting down his shawarma and leveling her with a nipple-pebbling stare.

  “Reason? For what?”

  “My rule. I created it because of you.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be insulted at his tasteless joke. “Sure, our one night together turned you into the man you are today.”

  “It kinda did. Everyone since you has paled in comparison, so there was no point in repeat performances. Rylan, you might not believe this, but…you broke my heart.”

  Brains couldn’t explode. Could they? Because Rylan was pretty sure hers was on the verge. The backs of her eyes burned with tears she refused to let fall.

  “That’s not nice, Thrett,” she whispered, poking at a stray piece of tomato that had fallen out of her pita.

  His hand covered hers until she returned his gaze. What she saw there shook her to her core. Pain and sadness, but no deception or even a glint of humor. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a cruel joke.

  “I’m not kidding, Rylan.”

  She pulled her hand away gently and frowned. “How is that possible? We spent one night together.”

  He sat back and thought for a moment before speaking. “I know. I can’t really explain it, but I was hoping for more than that. Much more. But then…I woke up and you were gone. I never understood why, either.”

  Rylan’s head was still whirling by this unexpected revelation, and she chewed on her bottom lip while she digested it. “Do you want the honest answer?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “I’m human. Never knew dragons or werewolves or bear shifters even existed before I met you. Actually, I didn’t know until you fell asleep after our…assignation.”

  A crease dug between his eyebrows. “What do you mean until I fell asleep?”

  She explained how he’d outed himself. “I was terrified and confused. I ran, thinking you were going to wake up and blast me with fire or something. It wasn’t until months later that I learned more about shifters, but by then it was too late. I’m sorry for hurting you, Thrett, but it certainly wasn’t intentional. I was just a kid and I was frightened for my life.”

  The muscle in his jaw clenched as he nodded. “Well, that’s certainly understandable. I wish I could say I should have been more upfront, but I’m not sure the night would have ended any differently. I knew better than to pick up a human, but you just… I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

  Never once in the intervening eight years had Rylan imagined this particular conversation going so well. She’d always assumed if they ever met again there would be a lot of yelling. A lot. There still might be once she revealed her final piece of news to him, but for now, she couldn’t have been more thrilled. She hadn’t been just another notch on his bedpost after all!

  With the weight of the world lifted from both of their shoulders, they finished their meals in companionable conversation. Thrett w
as as charming as ever, and Rylan was happy to let herself be charmed by him. When the food truck owner unplugged the twinkle lights, that was their cue to cut the night short.

  “Well, I’m this way,” Rylan said, jerking her head behind her. “And you’re that way, so I guess this is goodnight.”

  Thrett took a step closer to her, well within her personal space, and she found she didn’t really mind. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t make sure my date got home safely.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks at the reminder that they were on a date, but she was done pretending it was anything else. Letting him walk her home was risky, though. Hell, she’d insisted on meeting him at the restaurant so he wouldn’t find out where she lived, but suddenly that didn’t seem to matter. Trystin was at his sleepover at Blaise’s house so it was safe enough in that regard, but she certainly wouldn’t want Thrett popping by until he knew the truth. Of course, considering how things were developing, that would happen much sooner than she’d anticipated.

  They walked most of the way in tense silence, neither of them quite knowing what to do with all of this new information. The tension between them practically sparkled and she had a hard time not reaching for his hand. Her house was dark when they slowly took the steps to her porch. Slipping the key into the deadbolt, she cracked open the door but didn’t move to go inside. She didn’t want the night to end.

  Thrett fidgeted and glanced around like a teenage boy looking for her spying parents. He couldn’t seem to meet her gaze.

  “I, uh, guess this is goodnight then,” he stammered, starting to reach for her hands before stopping himself.

  The king of one-night stands, Mr. Playboy himself, seemed to be at a loss for words. Heat crackled between them and Rylan’s skin felt like it was on fire, waiting for his next move.

  “I was wondering,” he said, finally capturing her gaze, “if maybe you wouldn’t mind, um…going out with me again. If you want.”

  That was it. The last straw. She couldn’t hold back for another second. In one swift movement, she grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him into a passionate, desperate kiss.

 

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