“I am. Drake and Balaur of Romania are old friends, and we are related twelve different ways. To insult them is to insult us all.” Gunther’s normally amiable face looked stern and set.
“Hmm. Well I don’t disagree. Whatever Vadim is up to is ill advised at best and probably divisive by design. But what do you think we should do, cousin?”
“Watch and wait, see if Vadim settles down now he has thrown his weight around. I certainly do not want to end this long peace. But you should do nothing that would violate the old laws. Choose your Left Arm from amongst your kin.” Gunther begged. He paused. “And choose one soon. You are already almost at the end of your grace period.”
“Grace period?” cried Roland in disbelief. “What grace period? I asked you to be my Right Arm because I needed one for my investitures. But, having fulfilled your ceremonial duties, Gunther, do you seriously expect to ever wear my livery again?”
“I hope never to have to. May your funeral rites be held long after mine,” the older dragon replied instantly with the proper formula. “But, it is a fact that our laws prescribe two months after investiture for the naming of a Left Arm. Have you a candidate in mind?”
Roland groaned. “I don’t. I had thought to leave that position open until the day I had a pair of grown sons.”
“May I suggest Arnor? It is not ideal to have both your Right and Left Arms be of the same House — unless you are like old Lindorm who has many sons and grandsons to choose between. But Arnor is your friend and I give my permission.”
“The trouble is all our Houses are failing, Gunther. Dragons are a dwindling race. Arnor is your Right Arm. Now he is to be my Left? What happened to the days of old when dragonesses were born as often as sons?”
“That is a good question, cousin. But one to which I have no answer.”
* * *
On his return from Europe, Roland read his investigator’s second report on Kayla Cooper carefully. He found himself a little anxious at what he might have uncovered. But he told himself to abide by whatever Rongo Te Paka had found. After all, when a dragon lord was as wealthy as Roland, it paid to be extremely cautious about your playmates. Rongo Te Paka was Lord Te Kanewa’s grandson and therefore to be trusted. Kayla Cooper was a complete unknown.
Rongo reported that Kayla came from a little sheep station high in the hills of the South Island. She had been adopted as an infant, and had lived in Christchurch for the first twelve years of her life. Her elderly parents had both died when she was eleven. Her mother’s sister and husband who were sheep farmers had taken her in. Unfortunately, the Goffs were not able to support their brainy niece through university.
And she was just as smart as Whitcomb had bragged she was. Kayla had graduated from Victoria University in Wellington which she had attended on full scholarship. She had raced through her Masters of science degree and was now tackling her doctorate. Most impressive. At present, she had three scholarships and a bunch of grants and teaching assistantships to get her through grad school at the University of Auckland.
These awards had barely covered the cost of tuition and books, so she had taken a job waiting tables at the Black Swan Lounge. Roland grimaced. His report did not say so, but the Black Swan met his definition of seedy. He felt immensely pleased that he had been able to get her properly remunerated for her lab work at the university. To his relief, Kayla had immediately quit her job at the bar. Baron Voros did not date barmaids.
Kayla Cooper had no boyfriend. In fact, she didn’t seem to have ever had one in Auckland. Perhaps she had left a man behind in Wellington where she had done her undergraduate degree, but there didn’t seem any point in going back that far. The important thing was that she was currently unattached. Voros played second fiddle to no man.
She was the most succulent morsel to come his way in many years, and he fully intended to enjoy her luscious charms — provided she was the guileless student she appeared to be. It had been essential to confirm that she was neither a plant nor a gold digger.
She was an unlikely mistress for an industrial tycoon and dragon lord. Too naive and too serious. And as a rule Roland avoided mistresses altogether. But he rather thought he would enjoy setting Kayla Cooper up somewhere so he could look after her, and she could concentrate her honed intelligence on him. He wanted to shower her with gifts. He wanted to dress her in clothes that suited her lavish curves and long legs. But he suspected that what she wanted was an opportunity to do research. No matter, he would think of something. After all, money was no object.
She was a little shy, but he could tell that she felt the passion that was there between them. He looked forward to a very interesting affair with this brilliant woman. He liked Kayla very much, but he accepted that the buxom biologist could only ever be a temporary lover.
It was a thousand pities that he had to choose a virgin bride and could not please himself. But only a virgin could be transformed by her mating into a dragoness. And only a dragoness could bear him a fireling and heir. He was unfortunately the last of his House. He had no brothers and his present heir was his third cousin, Gunther. He had a duty to have sons. But not this week. This week he would have his lovely Kayla.
If he was going to be partly based in New Zealand for the foreseeable future, in the interludes between handling his business affairs, he intended to enjoy his delectable treasure. At least until he had to marry. He placed a call to a New Zealand subsidiary, and by close of business had purchased a beach house just outside Invercargill on the South Island. He could set Kayla up there and visit her conveniently when he was in New Zealand. Now he had a venue, all he needed was the woman.
CHAPTER FIVE
“A guy like that has an agenda when he dates a girl like you,” said Cindy frankly.
“Cindy’s right.” For once Moira and Cindy the battling flat mates were in accord, and it had to be over Roland Voros’ abrupt disappearance from Auckland.
Kayla continued washing the dishes and ignored her roommates’ remarks. No one knew better than she did that Roland was out of her league. She just wished her heart understood as well as her head did. But sadly, her hormones were in charge and all she felt was frustration and longing. Her spiffy new phone hadn’t rung once all week.
“Did you see the photos of Voros on the internet?” Shelly Graves cut in. Shelly was their fourth flat mate. “He was with a different woman at every event. Fashion models, actresses, celebrities. And not one of them was plus sized,” she finished spitefully.
Kayla concentrated on removing dried egg from a knife and didn’t answer. Because the truth was that she had looked up Roland, and she had seen him with a flock of elegant women. She wondered in her heart of hearts what he saw in her. It had been a long time since she had accepted that it was her cross to have a round face and rounder figure. Roland had made her feel beautiful and desirable. Maybe he was in love with her mind? Or maybe he was pumping her for information about the Department of Marine Biology. As if.
Whitcomb would have spilled his guts in a nanosecond if Voros wanted him to. Besides, they had secrets from other labs, but nothing that lay people could truly understand. And Voros was a layman. And she wanted to lay him. Which was a whole other story.
But equally he had made her no promises. He had said he was going away and would have to pass on dinner. She’d assumed he’d call when he returned. But a guy that rich could call from the North Pole, so maybe it was just a brush off. And her phone a farewell present. She squeezed out the sponge and began to wipe down the kitchen counters.
Shelly called from the living room, “Here he is in Paris at some do at the Louvre.” She whistled. “Take a look at that arm candy. You’d make two of her, Kayla.”
“Three,” sniped Moira.
“That dress has no back,” said Cindy in awe. “And pretty much no front.”
Kayla washed out the sink and took off her rubber gloves. She trailed over to Shelly’s tablet where the other women were gawking at video of Roland in black tie
and tails escorting a tiny wisp of a woman with blonde hair piled high. Her dress was flesh colored and seemed to be glued to her skin with rhinestones. Unless those were diamonds? Kayla didn’t know from diamonds. But the woman’s hip bones poked at the delicate fabric and her long red fingernails rested gracefully on Roland’s powerful right arm. Her hair glittered with more crystals — or diamonds.
“When was that taken?” she asked with her heart in her mouth.
Shelly scrolled and looked. “Last year,” she said.
Kayla nodded and went into her room to read. She felt so desperately deflated. Her thesis had been submitted. Her defense was in three days. No amount of studying would make any difference now. If she was unprepared for the probing interrogation of her committee, she didn’t deserve her PhD. It was just bad timing that Roland had left Auckland at this juncture when she was at loose ends. But hadn’t she always known that he would disappear? No one stuck by her. No one loved her. It was just the way it was.
She dashed her hand across her eyes and put down her novel. Wallowing in misery was pointless and stupid. She would go to the athletic center to swim for an hour and then go to bed. She had to sleep if her defense was going to make sense. And by golly, no memories of Aunt Audrey’s skepticism, or Uncle Chester’s scorn, or Roland’s indifference, was going to stop her from being rested on her big day. People came and went, but science was forever.
* * *
Roland was standing outside the biology building waiting for her when she came darting out on her way to the library. Kayla stopped dead in her tracks to stare at her neglectful suitor. It was overcast, but he still glowed like some big, buff, Norse god. She blushed as his eyes ran over her. He made her feel so alluring and so turned on it was embarrassing.
Kayla wanted to run into his arms but he stood so still she felt it would be inappropriate. She made her legs move toward him at a genteel pace.
“I’ve booked a table for us,” he said without preamble.
Kayla bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But I have to go to the Leigh Library to check something.”
Roland’s patrician features stiffened. To Kayla’s anxious eyes he looked offended. She hurried into speech. “I wish I’d known you were back. But Professor Whitcomb told me to double-check an article for him. I have time for a quick coffee,” she offered.
Roland looked about him disdainfully. “Coffee,” he said as if the word was a foreign concept. “Where?”
Kayla stiffened her backbone. She was the one with the right to be offended! “There are any number of places between here and the Leigh. We’ll find one on the way.”
“If that is all the time you have for me,” he returned icily.
“Today it is. When did you get back?” she asked as they started across campus.
Roland didn’t answer and when she peeked up at him, his lips were tight with anger. So she wasn’t entitled to know his itinerary. Well, damn. But she wasn’t going to beg. They continued in silence. Roland spotted an outdoor cafe and indicated they should stop there. Kayla nodded abstractedly. This was as good a spot as any to have a row. Because she felt one coming on.
She ordered a latte since Roland was paying. It was a luxury she didn’t indulge in often. The cheap black sludge in the grad lounge was what she could afford. Roland had his usual espresso. He smiled indulgently at her. “Lattes are for breakfast,” he informed her.
“Not in New Zealand,” she shot back. “We drink them when we feel like it.” She sipped. “Thank you. This is a treat.” Time to discover exactly how she rated. “Where have you been?” she repeated her question casually despite his obvious annoyance.
Roland green eyes examined Kayla’s face as if he was searching for something there. “I was in Europe,” he said eventually.
“Yeah? Wow. Where?”
“Iceland and then Switzerland.” He drank coffee and compressed his lips.
“What were you doing there?” she pressed.
“I had business to conduct,” he said repressively. “Did you miss me?”. He leaned forward and she felt his breath on her face.
She relaxed and smiled back at him. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She felt at once happier and less fraught now Roland was back. She nodded diffidently. “I did,” she whispered, although she had had no intention of confessing that.
“I’m glad. Can we make plans for dinner tonight?” he asked in the same bewitching manner.
She blushed deeper. “I’d like that. My defense is Tuesday, and I’m twitching because, now that my dissertation has been submitted, I haven’t enough to do. Dr. Whitcomb is letting me have some extra time in the lab, but not enough to keep me busy.”
“Then I will have to see if I can fill your free time,” he murmured seductively. He drained his cup. “Shall we go?”
Kayla floated on a cloud of happiness all the way to the Leigh where Roland left her with a casual, “I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress up.”
Dress up! Did he think that she had a wardrobe full of party clothes? He would have to settle for her black pants and whatever clean blouse she could find. But the blissful thought of her date transported her through a boring afternoon spent tracking down a paper so old and out of date it wasn’t available on line. But she knew it had to be found and read through. Dr. Whitcomb had a colleague who half-remembered reading something that anticipated her advisor’s latest research results.
It turned out to be arguable that Heinz, Heinz and Farley had actually scooped Dr. Whitcomb. At the end of a paper in 1982 they had extrapolated their results to reach his present conclusion. But speculation wasn’t preemptive. Nevertheless, their paper had to be read, a precis made, and four photocopies prepared, so other eyes could decide if she was right. Kayla thought citing the paper would be generous, but the decision wasn’t hers. She was just the researcher.
The next step was to find every single paper Heinz, Heinz and Farley had written in the intervening years, just in case they had followed up on their original suggestion. Proving a negative was always harder, and Kayla was kept busy for the rest of the afternoon as she looked through every journal in which the three biologists had published. By six o’clock she was done and she had written up her results and emailed them to Dr. Whitcomb.
She hurried home to dress for Roland, wishing that she did have something elegant in her closet. But of course all she had was her good brown suit, her black pants and either the cream blouse she was going to wear for her defense, or her beige tunic. She pulled out her drawers hoping she had a scarf, but the only one she found was a peculiar knitted number in chartreuse. Not her color. Not elegant. Roland would have to settle for her unadorned self.
She had bought herself a new tube of lipstick and she added a quick gloss of pink to her lips. She peered into her mirror and shook her head. She had splurged on a haircut for her defense but her black curls rioted just as wildly. She flicked a comb through them but it didn’t make much difference. She settled for combing her eyebrows so they lay in smooth black arches over her eyes. She put her glasses back on. Good enough.
Moira, Cindy and Shelly had taken one look at her wearing her teaching clothes and arrayed themselves on the couch as if waiting for their show to commence. When the knock on the door came they sat up straighter and smirked as Kayla slipped on her new buff colored pumps. She had decided that her old loafers were too ancient for her defense and had bought three inch heels to give herself some instant confidence.
Of course, even with three inch heels, Roland Voros was so tall he still looked down at her. He was wearing a different suit than the one he had had on in the morning. Its sleek navy lines emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist and hips. Nothing on earth could conceal those long, muscular legs. The smile on his face disappeared when he saw what she was wearing.
He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her, and Kayla regretted the lipstick, but he only murmured softly, “Change into something pretty.”
> Kayla blushed. She smoothed her old tunic nervously. “This is as pretty as I get, unless I wear my suit,” she whispered back.
Roland’s green eyes warmed slightly. He reached into his pocket and handed her a long, narrow box wrapped in gold paper. “Put this on,” he instructed more kindly.
“Do you want to meet my roommates?” Kayla remembered the three women goggling at them from the living room.
“I would.”
Moira, Cindy and Shelly surged off the couch and surrounded them like sharks scenting blood. Kayla made the introductions in a voice that trembled. She clutched her gift and used it to indicate her roommates.
Roland held out his hand to each woman in turn. Shelly was fluttering eyelashes at him as if he wasn’t Kayla’s date, but Roland seemed to be ignoring her. He merely retrieved his hand from hers. “How do you do?” he said repressively.
Kayla’s fingers were fumbling with the package he had given her. She was mortified by her roommates. Roland took the package from Kayla’s shaking hands and slipped the paper off the dark purple jeweler’s box. He flicked it open. A long chain glittered against the black velvet lining. He removed the necklace and draped it over her neck. The diamonds that were woven into the yellow gold chain glittered in the lamplight. The thumbnail sized emerald in the pendant winked just above her bosom, its clear green color emphasized by the diamonds set around it.
He turned her so she could look into the mirror by the front door. Kayla’s hazel eyes widened and she put up a plump hand to touch the emerald wonderingly. Behind her Voros’ blond elegance contrasted with her dark hair and shabby clothes. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t accept this — how could she? They weren’t engaged or related. But the presence of the other women prevented her from saying so.
Cindy crowded close to peer at her neck. “Are those diamonds?” she asked incredulously.
Roland merely smiled into the mirror. Kayla’s knew her face betrayed her dismay and uncertainty. The necklace was beyond gorgeous, but it just made her clothes look shabbier than ever.
Dragon's Successor (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 2) Page 4