Adored by A Dragon: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 4)

by Isadora Montrose

  Daniel understood the problem. Pleasure divers could foul a scene, or panic in the dark. Underwater searches were often conducted in silty water, feeling inch by unpleasant inch. An activity which required practice. He sidestepped the issue. “I’m just a visitor. I’m only on the island to collect my wife.”

  “That’s not what I hear. And we only have three dragons in our air patrol. Lloyd Furlong is also a vet. Good man. But Quinn Drake is more of a loose cannon. And his cousin Alister has no legs.”

  “I’ve met both Furlong and Quinn Drake.” And agreed with Benoit’s assessment of both. “And FYI, I am still on active duty.”

  Benoit’s mouth fell open and closed with a snap.

  Daniel decided the time had come to change the subject. “Are you a Mystic Bay native?” he asked.

  “Me? No. I came for a wedding, met my wife and stayed on.” Benoit waved at the wall behind them.

  A spectacular woman gazed out from behind glass. Sunlight glinted on the magnificent black pearl ring on her left hand. Her hair waved in a spectacular display of green, pink, and lavender.

  “Serena is a mermaid. Born and bred on West Haven and won’t live anywhere else.”

  “So you resigned from your post?” Daniel asked.

  “Nope. I’ve been out of the service for a good long while. I quit my job. I was in cyber-security before. Fortunately the Drakes realized that a museum needs good security. Not just to protect the artifacts but to protect them against fraud. You would not believe how much stolen or fake stuff we’ve been offered.”

  “Indeed I would. But surely the Drakes themselves can separate legitimate artifacts from the fakes?” Dragons usually had no difficulty assessing the value and age of artwork.

  Benoit chuckled. “They installed one of their number as chief curator and director of acquisitions–he’s the third member of the air patrol. Dr. Alister Drake does a great job – as long as what he’s dealing with is a photograph or a piece of scrimshaw or such. But old lobster pots are also heritage items, and a snap to fake out of old wood. I spend a lot of time interviewing donors and tracing provenance on what not so long ago was rubbish.”

  “Hmm.”

  Someone rapped on the office door. “Come in,” called Benoit cordially.

  A different security guard had a small child by the hand. “Carmody is lost,” she announced gravely.

  “Where is her mom?” Benoit was squatting in front of the little girl. “Who brought you to the museum?” he asked gently.

  Daniel sniffed. He looked at Carmody in surprise. The child regarded him earnestly with large, unafraid blue eyes before facing the bear again. “Gramma.”

  “We’ve paged Mrs. Belfast.” The security guard looked harassed. “But she doesn’t respond. I thought I could leave Carmody with you until we locate her grandmother.”

  “Sure,” Benoit said easily. “Carmody is our most frequently lost sheep,” he explained softly as the guard closed the door behind her.

  “I’s not a sheep,” the little girl said indignantly. “I’s a unicorn.”

  And a phoenix. But it wasn’t Daniel’s place to correct this child.

  Benoit suppressed his smile. “I meant you have a history of getting lost, Carmody.*” His eyes met Daniel’s. “Twice before in the last six months. Hang on a minute while I call her mom.”

  “I didn’t lost,” the little girl insisted petulantly. “Gramma losted herself.”

  *Beloved by the Bear

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Angie~

  After dinner she and Daniel went strolling on the high-mowed ground above the inn’s beach. At low tide, the beach spread out below was inviting, wide and sandy. The sun was still high. Some parents were allowing their children to wade in the edge of the surf or make sandcastles in the wet sand.

  Angie preferred to stay up here. She was not in the mood for another winding stairway. Although the Tidewater’s was in much better repair than either of the Spicers’. Even though the sound of children playing drifted upward, they had the windswept meadow to themselves. Daniel reached for her hand and they fell into stride together.

  In the dining room they had both been aware of Robin’s mirror, the hovering waitstaff, and the surprising number of locals who were eating out despite the inn’s summer prices. Obviously their coffee break at the Bean had produced immediate results. Or perhaps their interest in the Spicer property had already become public knowledge. All the overt interest had put a crimp in their dinner conversation

  “You didn’t finish telling me about your afternoon,” she prompted.

  Daniel gently tugged her back from the edge into the shelter of his body. “Pregnant women can suffer from light-headedness,” he rebuked her.

  Her hackles rose. “Who told you that?”

  “I have eyes. And five sisters-in-law who each have had several babies.”

  “Dr. Peterson told me to sit down if I felt dizzy,” she countered.

  “One, who is Dr. Peterson? And, two, how do you plan to sit on the brink of a cliff?”

  Daniel was right. As usual. She let him pull her a few feet further from the drop-off. It was not as steep as the Spicers’ cliff. The geology on this side of the island was more eroded. But a tumble to the beach, while survivable, would do her no favors. Why was she acting like a rebellious child? That was not independence, but folly.

  “You’re right. My body is changing so rapidly that my sense of balance is way off. I’ll be more careful.”

  Tension seeped out of his big body. His concern was quite genuine. Why had she thought it was not? Daniel had his faults. For that matter, so did she, but she had never doubted his caring.

  Marriage meant accepting the minor flaws in your partner’s character, and loving them despite of them. Or even because of them. She had never tried to change him. And he had never tried to change her. That was the bedrock of their marriage.

  Acknowledging his right to be worried, allowed her to relax. His hand tightened on hers. Their arms brushed against each other. For her sober Swede this was as much a show of affection as yesterday’s out of character public kiss.

  “Dr. Peterson?” he asked again.

  “Virginia Peterson is a sorceress with a medical practice on the island. She has decades of experience taking care of shifters. You met her daughter Claudia this morning. The woman married to that cougar.”

  “Right. The couple with a hybrid baby that somehow has got past the fear barrier.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How come the town council didn’t erupt into flames?” His exasperated bewilderment was back. “And I met a phoenix-unicorn hybrid at the museum. Everyone accepted her. But our baby is unwelcome. What is wrong with these people?”

  “Shh. Lower your voice. The bushes have ears! Who are you talking about?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that I had a chat with the museum’s director of security? While we were talking, one of his people showed up with a lost kid. Carmody Belfast.”

  Of course he had recognized the child’s distinctive scent. “I hope you didn’t say anything,” she whispered.

  “Surely it’s an open secret?” Despite his disbelief, he pitched his voice so it carried no further than her own sensitive ears.

  “Not at all. I think most other hunters know. But no one brings it up. At least not in my hearing. As far as the non-hunter islanders are concerned, Samantha Belfast is a unicorn and so is her little girl,” she said warningly.

  “How does Ms. Belfast intend to keep this secret?” he asked. “That child will grow a pair of wings at puberty. And in the meantime, these escapades of hers will focus eyes on her.”

  “Carmody is a real handful all right.” Angie shook her head. She leaned closer to him. “Makes me wonder if the good citizens of this burg don’t have the right idea about hybrid children, after all.”

  Daniel’s handsome face stiffened. “I know you’re only joking. But our fireling is not a fit subject for jokes. I don’t know why that little gi
rl wanders off, but it’s unlikely to be because she’s a hybrid.”

  “Shh. Don’t say that word aloud.”

  “What about the father?” The austere lines of Daniel’s face grew sterner.

  “There isn’t even gossip about him. I guess I could ask Robin, but why make trouble for the Belfasts?”

  He looked even more disapproving. “If Ms. Belfast has stolen a phoenix’s child, she has made her own troubles.”

  “Maybe he took off on her?” she murmured back. “Or got himself killed. I bet phoenixes are just as likely as dragons to join the armed forces. And run headfirst into danger.” Her man was a born hero. His drawerful of medals had not been acquired by leading his men from behind.

  “I have known one or two,” he admitted. “Not Swedes, but a few Italians and one American. And yes, they were serving officers, but then I meet few civilians. But even if the father is dead, Samantha Belfast has stolen that girl from her clan. It’s no wonder she looks so stressed.”

  “You met Samantha?”

  “Carmody escaped from her grandmother. When she couldn’t find the child, she decided Carmody must be outside. So when security paged her, she was out of earshot. Benoit called the mother, who arrived before the grandmother.”

  “Samantha works just down the street at the Greene Gallery,” Angie told him. “The poor woman. That’s the third time in six months that little girl has run off.”

  “My point exactly. Benoit tells me that the entire island has twice been mobilized to locate that child. Including the shifters working on some construction site. Which means Ms. Belfast’s secret isn’t one. For one thing, I’ll bet that the sheriff knows. He doesn’t strike me as any kind of a fool.”

  “He isn’t. But I wouldn’t have thought you could have divined that from one meeting.”

  “I ran into him on the way to the museum. We passed the time of day,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, if Wally knows about Carmody, he’ll keep it under his hat,” she returned. “He’s a sensible man. He knows all the prejudice against mixed marriages is just ignorance. But it’s not our problem. We should mind our own business.”

  “I hope you are correct, Angelina. I felt sorry for that young woman. And that was before I realized she was a single mother. May I remind you that you are courting the same fate? Do you imagine that raising a fireling is ever easy? Do you remember the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Balaur*?”

  “I do.” The memory made her chortle. “The Marshal’s own son and little Leo conspired to wreak havoc. I treasure my photographs of those boys smeared in buttercream icing.”

  “I remember how shocked Christina’s mother was. And Grandmother,” he admonished. “And before he ruined the wedding cake, Leo had already disrupted the reception by removing his aunt’s shoe. A shoe worth a king’s ransom.”

  Angie sniffed. “Those shoes were vulgarly ostentatious. Little Leo couldn’t have known its true value. He was just a mischievous three-year-old, wound up and excited by the festivities. Anyway Christina got it back.”

  “You forget how exhausting Ingrid and Victor** found their son’s antics.” His voice deepened. “And how those two firelings egged each other on.”

  “I agree with you,” she returned demurely. “Firelings are a lot of work. You will need to be around for your son’s childhood, Admiral. Full-time. Even if I return to Sweden, I still don’t want to get stuck with being a single mother. Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “And just what am I supposed to do when I am not changing diapers?” he demanded.

  She ignored the anger in his voice and focused on the underlying fear. Daniel’s entire sense of manhood was tightly bound up with being a warrior. She knew that. Why had she discounted it? Her Viking was afraid that if he hung up his shield he would become a toothless, emasculated weakling sitting by the fire. She patted his arm reassuringly.

  “You’ve no more idea than I do,” he continued fiercely.

  She had an idea or two. But she needed to lay a trap for her dragon.

  They had reached the end of the inn’s land and a fence loomed. He turned them back the way they had come. “Tired?”

  “No. I had a lovely nap this afternoon.” While he had met Anton Benoit and discussed the search and rescue squad the bear shifter was creating. Perhaps found a pal. “Daniel, how long do you really have before you must report to the Navy, or the Eldest?”

  “As long as I need,” he admitted reluctantly. “Why?”

  “Why don’t you give West Haven and Mystic Bay a month? See if it grows on you and makes you happy? Find out if you can become a part of the community. Make a few friends.”

  They walked along in silence. She knew Daniel was contemplating her offer. He didn’t speak until they were almost back at the inn. “I will give Mystic Bay a chance,” he said at last. “If you will live with me for that month. Trying to repair our marriage without sharing our lives is nonsense.”

  The silence dragged on while she thought about his counteroffer. Was her insistence on physical separation anything more than an attempt to prevent getting hurt? But she was already suffering. How could the damage wrought by his absence be mended by further distance?

  *Dragon’s Pleasure

  **Dragon’s Confession

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sully~

  “I’ve got Dan wondering what he would do if Angie sailed west. Anton has asked him to join his search and rescue squad. Melissa Babcock has shown them the Spicer place. Quinn Drake has demonstrated to Lindorm he’s not the only one who appreciates a fairy. We aren’t there yet, Robin, but we’re closer.”

  Robin relaxed into the curve of his arm. “We’re definitely making progress. Alister Drake has an enticing box of odds and ends to show the Admiral. A donation from Eleazar Jackman. And I do believe Admiral Lindorm got lucky this afternoon.”

  He roared at this minor vulgarity. Coming from his prim fairy, it was hilarious. She pinched his leg. “Behave yourself, Gordon. The neighbors will hear you.”

  The windows of his bungalow were standing open to catch the summer breeze. They were sitting side by side in his living room in the twilight. Robin had cooked him dinner in his kitchen. He was hopeful of getting lucky himself.

  “You need to redecorate,” she said out of nowhere.

  “What? Why?”

  “This room used to be casual, now it is just shabby.”

  “It’s the way Gale left it,” he defended his home.

  “Twenty-two years ago this month.”

  “Yeah.” So much for getting lucky. Robin was missing her sister.

  “Does it still hurt?” she asked softly.

  He thought for a long time. “My heart is still a little sore. But it’s more the memory of pain, than an actual ache.”

  “Good.” She turned her face up for his kiss. “We need to order you some new furniture for this room.”

  “If you’ll pick it out for me.”

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Daniel~

  The sun was low enough now to tint the whole world orange. On the beach, parents urged their little ones toward the staircase. Angelina had halted and was staring out over the sea as if the turn of the tide had utterly absorbed her attention. He wanted to shake her, make her see reason. But aside from the horror of laying violent hands on his mate, he knew the value of patience. But no wait had ever been harder.

  At last she spoke. “You’re right, Daniel. A month together on West Haven will either put things right between us, or show us that our marriage is over. We will live together during that time.”

  He let out the breath he had been unaware of holding. “Our marriage is not over,” he said flatly. “I will never believe that. You are my fate, Angelina, daughter of Karlis. And I am yours.”

  His wife’s face was rosier with the setting sun bathing it. But her expression had gone from pensive to pleased. “Hmm. Let’s go tell Robin I’m moving out of her guest room.”

&nbs
p; “Tonight?” He could scarcely believe his luck.

  “Tonight. Why wait?”

  A great weight slipped off his shoulders. He threw his head back and laughed for sheer joy. “Only I am not spending the entire month in that Victorian ruffle farm.”

  “You’ll have to, Daniel. We’ll have to. The entire island is booked solid for the month of July.”

  “We’ll see.”

  It did not take long to collect Angie’s things and reinstall her in Hyacinth. He had to admit his fairy looked right at home among the furbelows and swags of floral fabric. “I suppose I could transform the furnishings,” she said gazing around. “But it would use a lot of energy.”

  Changing one chair or even one room was well within Angie’s power. But holding the spell indefinitely was not. Besides she should be safeguarding her energies for more important tasks. Like growing a fireling. And he had a better idea. Maybe even two or three better ideas.

  “Are you ready for bed?” he asked.

  Her green eyes sparkled. “I should turn in,” she said sedately. “I have to be at the store at a quarter to nine tomorrow morning.”

  The little tease.

  He tried to make her see how unnecessary this job was. “I would rather you did not stand on your feet all day. And I’ll bet this Dr. Peterson agrees with me.”

  “Actually, if I were standing at attention for eight hours, that would be as bad as bed rest. But moving around as I do, and walking back and forth, is good for me. Gentle exercise. I wouldn’t do anything that would injure the baby.”

  No, she wouldn’t. “Have I told you how happy this child has made me?”

  “Not yet.”

  He lifted her into his arms. Brought her eyes level with his. “Well, it has. I truly thought we had left it too long and firelings were not in our future.”