by Bianca James
The events of the night replayed over and over in her mind, like a movie reel on an endless loop, as she lay in bed. From the moment she first set eyes on him to the moment he took her in his caring arms and kissed her as if she had stirred some deep passion within him.
The logical part of her brain knew he was just like all the rest and that he couldn’t possibly find her attractive. She just wasn’t his type and she knew it. But another part of her, a part she tried so hard to keep locked away in a dark recess of her heart, felt drawn to him in a way that both frightened and exhilarated her. He was everything she found attractive in a man. Unconventional, strong, protective, drop dead gorgeous and just comfortable to be with. But there was something else.
He was dangerous.
But what scared her the most was that that realization didn’t actually scare her at all. Quite the opposite. She was drawn to this edgy, commanding man because she sensed that beneath his lean, fit body was a caring and loving heart. She sensed that even before she regained consciousness after the shooting. She didn’t know how, she just knew.
At the thought of the shooting, Olivia reached up to her ear, now pristine and clean after a long, very hot shower. There was nothing there. No gaping wound, no scar and no pain whatsoever. It didn’t make sense. She remembered being shot, moving evasively just enough that she didn’t take a bullet in the head, but she vividly recalled being shot and feeling the searing heat of the bullet as it tore through her flesh before she passed out.
So what happened to the wound? And why was Declan so adamant that I was drenched in someone else’s blood?
Something was off. She didn’t know what, but she knew he hadn’t been totally honest with her. Maybe he was only lying by omission. Either way, he was trying to deceive her. Yet, despite his deceit, her mind replayed some of the lewd fantasies she enjoyed as she showered. She recalled how her nipples hardened like pebbles as she imagined his strong, calloused hands touching her breasts and grazing her nipples. The heat that rose in her sex as she washed her mound with warm, soapy water and allowed her fingers to tease open her folds …
She pushed aside her lusty thoughts as she felt the aching need to be filled well within her, yet again as the heat radiated from her sex. The alarm would sound in a few hours and she needed sleep. She didn’t need some dreamy biker getting into her head and her bed, turning her into a dizzy, love-struck teenager. Not while she was working her ass off trying to pay off a mountain of debt from her last big romance.
Another day, another dollar. At that rate, I’ll be all square in … half a million days.
With that thought, she let the soft cloud of sleep roll over her affording her a brief respite from the crushing weight of her responsibilities.
Chapter 12
Declan
The night was far from over for Declan and his dragon. They still had much to do. Although his human was weary from the late hour and the stress of seeing his mate nearly shot to death, his dragon was eager to hunt and had a mission to complete. Once a dragon made a commitment to something, there was no stopping it. With laser guided focus, Declan made his way to the street corner where his target operated his seedy business.
Drug dealers and dragons have one thing in common. They are both territorial creatures. Drug dealers stake out a small piece of territory like a street corner, at first, and then slowly their influence spreads like a festering tumor throughout the neighborhood which, over time becomes a lifeless, soulless shadow of its former glory. Dragons, in sharp contrast are highly protective of their territory and equally protective of those who share their territory and live under their protection, whether those inhabitants realize they’re being protected or not.
So, when ‘The Shark’, so nicknamed because he could never stand still, took up dealing on a corner in Declan’s neighborhood, swift, decisive action was needed. There was no way Declan and his dragon would allow the fidgety, pock faced little weasel to get a foothold in his territory. The Shark had to go. Him and every swinging dick he’d recruited to peddle his vile crap.
With a purposeful and menacing stride, Declan approached The Shark and his three cohorts at a rapidly accelerating pace, closing the gap faster than humanly possible. As he got closer, his eyes burned a fierce, almost demonic red as they shifted to dragon eyes, ready to track his prey using thermal scanning. The closer he came, the further he shifted. By the time he reached the speechless, scared shitless bunch of dealers, one of them had passed out and the others were too petrified to do anything other than stare at something every molecule of their being told them couldn’t be happening.
But it was happening because right before them reared an enormous, winged dragon complete with lethal looking barbed tail which swished from side to side as if waiting for an opportunity to strike. Dwarfing the mortals, the dragon opened its huge jaws, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth as it roared an ear shattering scream designed to disorient its prey.
It worked.
Any thoughts of running were shattered as they clutched at their ears in a vain attempt to muffle the acutely disturbing and frightening sound. If the word sound could even be used to describe something so horrific and destructive. As soon as the dragon finished its bellowing roar, they looked up, blindly terrified of what might follow.
The fearsome beast spread its wings and threw its head back, as if preparing the strike at them, when a bright glow began to emanate from its mouth, building in intensity until it became a jet of liquid flame.
Huge, claw like talons dug into the roadway effortlessly as the massive creature prepared to strike. It’s leathery, shiny skin undulated, hinting at the vast and unstoppable strength that the dragon commanded.
They were about to be burned alive by a fire breathing dragon. That was the last coherent thought that went through their minds before everything went black. And very, very hot.
Chapter 13
Olivia
He sat at the end of the counter, away from the other breakfast diners, most of which were regulars who sat at what they considered to be their reserved seats. Cab drivers, delivery drivers and an assortment of other nocturnal workers frequented Mal’s Diner for breakfast because it had the best eggs and griddle cakes in the district.
Mal didn’t hold with the modern notion of the ‘all day breakfast’. At Mal’s, you ate breakfast at breakfast time, lunch at lunch time and dinner at dinner time. It was as simple as that. The last thing he wanted was to attract a bunch of soy latte drinking hipsters to his diner by trying something new. Olivia had given up trying to get him to move with the times and build the business back to what it used to be in its heyday. She had enough problems of her own without taking on someone else’s.
Trying not to look too keen, Olivia made her way to Declan’s end of the counter to take his order. Her body betrayed her, though, as her legs carried her like she was a catwalk model, giving her hips a sexy sway. She didn’t even realize she was doing it until she noticed how he was looking at her, with desire in the eyes he could barely tear away from her hips.
He’s looking at my curves. I should have worn something less revealing. Damn it!
“You look so graceful when you walk like that. Would it be inappropriate to say ‘sexy’?” he said as she stopped in front of him.
“Yes.”
“OK, I won’t say it, then.”
“I didn’t say it wouldn’t be appreciated, though, did I?” She smiled as she said it. “You’re very smooth, aren’t you …?”
“Declan. And please don’t insult me by pretending you’ve forgotten my name. We both know you haven’t, right?”
“Ah, yes. Declan. So, what will it be? Our famous griddle breakfast special?”
“Sounds perfect,” he responded and was about to continue before Olivia interrupted.
“I know, I know. Rare, right?”
He winked at her and gave her a knowing smile.
He’s onto me. Why even pretend I’m not interested. Ohmygod, what am I ev
en thinking?
As she walked toward the kitchen to place his order, something bothered her. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite figure it out. Something was different or not as it should be.
As she looked back at him, still staring at her hips, she realized what it was. His hand. There was no longer a bandage on it. Not only that, but the big, ugly craters where chunks of flesh had been torn out were completely healed, like they had never been injured.
Not only was he a street brawler, as his injuries attested, but he healed at an unnatural, if not alarming rate. Olivia was no ER doctor, but she knew something very strange was going on with her mysterious guy.
Chapter 14
Declan
Oh shit! This could be awkward …
As soon as he saw the look on her face, Declan knew what was up. His chin rested on his injured hand as he enjoyed watching her do her ‘sexy sway’ thing behind the counter. But his hand wasn’t injured any longer and he’d forgotten to cover it with another bandage after he shifted back to human form after sorting out the local wannabe drug lords.
When she returned with his order, she almost threw it down in front of him before glaring at him, without saying a word.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked plaintively.
“You could start by being honest with me. That would be a refreshing change, coming from a man.”
“You mean this?” He held up his scar free hand and admired his perfect knuckles as he opened then clenched his fist.
“You know exactly what I mean. Last night, you looked like you’d taken on Mike Tyson in a bare knuckle bar fight and this morning, there’s not a mark on you. You sat at this very diner, only hours ago and patched yourself up with my first aid kit. Care to explain?” She placed her hands on her hips and assumed a stance more becoming of a school mistress than a waitress.
She nodded slowly, and then waited for his explanation.
“OK, I’ll tell you, but not here. Can we have dinner tonight? I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”
“I’m working tonight. And your promise isn’t worth squat to me. Not until I know you actually mean it.”
“Working? When do you sleep?” he asked, surprised that she was working two shifts on the same day.
“Plenty of time to sleep when my loans are paid off. Or when I’m dead. Whichever comes first. I’m more likely to die, though, before my debts are clear.”
“What time do you finish this shift?”
She hesitated, still unsure how much to trust him. “When the lunch girl comes on. Around noon.”
“I’ll be here to take you to lunch,” he stated, as if it were a given. He started eating his griddle special without waiting for her reply.
Chapter 15
Olivia
“I’m not going anywhere on that,” Olivia said quite firmly as soon as she saw the motorcycle.
“Scared?”
“No. Not scared. Just too smart to end up in the orthopedic wing of the local hospital.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s too far to walk and we’re not going to find a cab.” He looked around. “Not in this neighborhood, anyway.” He handed her a helmet, threw his leg over the bike and waited for her to follow.
“Where are we going?” she asked, hesitantly sliding the helmet over her head as he started the engine and revved it.
“It’s a surprise.”
As soon as she was seated behind him, with her arms wrapped tightly around his sleek waist, they were off. It had been a while since Olivia had been on a bike and she had forgotten that feeling of exhilaration. The sensation of freedom. Within moments, her financial problems, overwhelming fatigue and aching feet ceased to exist.
As soon as they stopped out front of his building, she knew he wasn’t planning a restaurant date. There wasn’t a single restaurant anywhere on the trendy block. Just rows of stunning brownstone’s, all well maintained and very, very expensive.
“Where are we?” she said, looking up and down the street at the exquisite display of architecture.
“My place,” he answered as he removed his helmet.
“Your place. Are you serious?”
“Well, us ‘dope peddling bikers’ got to live somewhere, right?” He winked at her and she blushed at having her own words thrown back at her.
“Yeah, about that … maybe I was being a little judgmental.”
“A little?” he quipped, smiling at her.
“Fine, then. Very judgmental. Happy now?”
Climbing the stoop to his front door, Declan unlocked and held open the door for Olivia, gesturing for her to enter first.
“My, my. Such a gentleman,” she commented as she walked past him and into the opulent, faithfully restored entry hall. “Wow! How much does this set you back each month? More than I make in a year, I’m guessing.”
“I bought it a little over a year ago and have been restoring it, room by room, ever since. It had a hard life in the seventies and eighties, when it had a lot of its character stripped to make it ‘modern’. I’ve put in a lot of hard work and money reinstating the original features and give it some charm. Want the fifty-cent tour?”
“Why not,” Olivia replied, still in awe at the splendid finish to the restoration.
“Did you do much of the work yourself?” she asked, clearly impressed.
“Everything you don’t need a license for,” Declan replied with great pride as he gestured around the room.
Her eyes were drawn to one feature that was plainly not original — a disproportionately large door set in the under stair space. She was curious because anything large enough to fit through such a door would be too large to fit inside the angled storage cupboard under the stairs.
Pointing to the unusual doorway, she started to ask, “What’s —”
Taking her by the elbow, Declan quickly cut her off and guided her in the opposite direction, toward an adjacent room. “Let’s start the tour, shall we?”
Olivia had started to see Declan in a different light. He wasn’t the ‘bad boy’ biker he made out to be. There was a lot more to him than he let people see, she decided as they concluded the tour in the spacious and well-appointed kitchen.
“This is amazing.” She looked stunned. “This is better than some restaurant kitchens. Tell me you don’t use all this stuff when you cook?”
“Would you be impressed if I did? Would you be more interested in me if I said I was a brilliant cook?”
“OK, let’s get one thing straight, right now. I didn’t say I was or wasn’t interested in you. I’m not interested in a relationship with you or anyone else right now. And when I say right now, I mean never.”
“We’ll see,” Declan said noncommittally as he directed her to take a seat at the table.
Chapter 16
Declan
After carefully blending the ingredients for the salad dressing, Declan set it aside and took the marinating steaks from the fridge before pre heating the grill.
“You really do look like you know what you’re doing,” Olivia commented as she admired his confidence in the kitchen. “I can hardly boil an egg.”
“So, you don’t cook much, then?”
“I’m at the diner for two shifts a day, most days a week, so Mal fusses over me and always prepares something so I don’t starve.”
“Tell me why you’re always working … you mentioned something about being dead before you pay off your debts?” he asked.
“You don’t want to hear about all that. I’d rather find out about the mysterious secrets you promised to tell me.”
“I will, promise. But you go first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
Well, nearly everything. His lips cracked a hint of a smile at that thought.
“You think I’m going to open up and tell you what an idiot I was and how I let a good for nothing, lying prick rob me blind and leave me with a ton of debt?” She shook her head adamantly.
Declan didn’t say a word as he thre
w the steaks on the grill and began to toss the freshly dressed salad. Sometimes, saying nothing was what it took to draw someone out of their shell. Declan was betting that this was one of those times. As he set the salad down on the table, he simply looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
“Alright. Whatever.” Olivia sighed and her shoulders sagged. “I’ll tell you, but you better go flip those steaks.”
As he got up to attend to the steaks, she added “And make mine well done. You have yours anyway you like, but I want mine actually cooked, thanks.”
“OK, I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version … A few years ago, I met this guy who seemed pretty keen on me. Now, you might not have noticed,” her eyes widened in mock disbelief, “but I’m no stick thin cover girl, so when a hot guy on a cool motorcycle starts getting interested, well, it kind of makes a girls hormones go into overdrive.”
“Skinny girls are overrated —”
“Do you want to hear the story or not?” she interrupted.
Declan lowered his gaze apologetically. “Sorry. Go on.”
“So, like I was saying, it messes with your head when a guy like that flirts with you and starts making you feel normal and well, kinda sexy.” Her cheeks reddened slightly. Declan thought she looked cuter than ever like that, but he knew better than to say anything. He just waited for her to continue her story.
“And one thing led to another and before long he’d moved in with me and we were a couple. He told me he was from Chicago and had moved to New York for business.” She made air quotes.
“Let me guess,” Declan ventured an interjection, “there was no business. He was a loser with a slick mouth, a big smile and an even bigger …” He left it there.
“Yes, Mr. Smarty-Pants, he was more than just a loser. He was a big loser. He’d gambled himself into all kinds of trouble in Chicago before he skipped town, made his way to New York, changed his name and looked for a big curvy girl to bail him out of trouble.