by Lucy Lyons
“How do I know it is real?” said Mr. Bluff.
“When does a Kaur wear knock-offs? That watch is a vintage 1956 Rolex Datejust 6605 YG 18 karat President Bracelet. It’s worth is over seventeen thousand dollars. You can look it up online if you want. I’ll wait.”
Mr. Bluff gave him the nastiest look Ryan ever saw from a poker player. Ryan stared at the man, noted his tobacco-stained teeth, his whiskey-soaked breath and the red in his eyes. It was at that moment he knew that Bluff didn’t have the goods to match the bet. Bluff just lost about three thousand in this hand, plus the rest of the pot. But it was Bluff that drew out hidden money and put in on the table which was against the rules in any poker game. At that point, Ryan had every right to toss in his watch.
The first rule of poker was to size up the assets of the people you played. Bluff failed to do this. And Ryan saw the man’s face twist into anger as Bluff realized his fatal error.
All of a sudden Bluff stood and with a shout launched himself over to grab Ryan. Bluff bunched the lapels of Ryan’s gray Armani suit in his hands, scattering both the cash and the chips. Ryan stared at the man. If Bluff thought that Ryan would be intimidated by this show of force, he was wrong.
“You’ve just made my day,” said Ryan with a smile. Ryan had a wiry physique, but he was stronger than he looked. Ryan slid his hands under the man’s armpits and slung him sideways into the right-hand wall.
“Get him!” called Bluff.
Ryan sized up the toughs watched the game closely and thought he was going to have a difficult time getting out of this one. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
“Police!” called a voice from behind the door that led to the bar. “Get on the floor and put your hands over your heads.”
***
Several hours later Ryan found himself in his father’s study where he waited for the elder Kaur. Ivan Kaur was a stern taskmaster at any time, but never more so when it came to Ryan. If the younger Kaur stepped on the boundaries of Ivan’s sense of proprieties, Ryan was due for a stern lecture and some sort of punishment. In the past those proved to be a restriction in his allowance, or some extra work at the family business, or in the most extreme cases, not allowing Ryan to use any of the family cars. Ryan worked out what form his punishment would be this time, though he had to admit that being hauled out of an organized crime stronghold was the furthest he gone outside his father’s rule book. He couldn’t count on what would happen to him now.
The doors to the library swung open and Ivan Kaur entered. Even for a man in his late fifties he was imposing and impressive. On this day, however, his face was drawn up in fury. He didn’t waste any time in preliminaries.
“What the hell were you thinking?” shouted his father.
Ryan sat in one of the leather high backed chairs in his father’s study and stared at his hands. He knew better than to answer his father’s rhetorical questions.
“That game was in a bar owned by organized crime! Mobsters, Ryan! How do you think that will look when it hits the papers that Ryan Kaur was hanging out with mobsters?”
Ryan agreed in retrospect it wasn’t his wisest move, but he wasn’t about to tell his father that.
“And you bet your grandfather’s watch? Ryan, my father’s watch? He gave you that watch to show you the legacy you would inherit. What were you thinking?”
His father had a point there. Ryan only thought about winning, not the priceless sentimental value of that Rolex.
It’s bad enough that you crash every car we give you, or that you make a spectacle of yourself at your friends’ parties. But we had an agreement after that incident with that reality star—”
“Jenna, her name was Jenna.”
“Whatever. Thank God the paternity test came back that you weren’t the father. The point is,” and now his father was shaking his finger at him. “You agreed to clean up your act. This, this,” he said as his face became a frightening shade of red, “is beyond the pale. It is time you grew up.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ryan. He was almost contrite, but right now he just wanted his father to stop screaming.
“Sorry is not enough, Ryan. Do you not realize that we are up for a big defense contract to build weapons to defend against dragons? This is huge, Ryan. We would get information on dragons no one else has for us to develop these weapons. We would be the contractor for this kind of ordinance around the world. But we can’t get that contract if the government thinks any of us, and that includes you, are a security risk. And I’d say hanging out with mobsters qualifies as that.”
Hearing his father’s words Ryan regretted his actions. He didn’t mean to put his family’s business in jeopardy. He only wanted a little fun but perhaps this time he went too far. Still that didn’t justify his father treating him like he was twelve years old.
“Okay, I get the point, Dad. I’ll keep my profile low.”
“Oh, you’ll do more than that.”
“What do you mean?” said Ryan. Immediately he sat straighter and was on alert.
“Ms. Brooks, you can come in now.”
His father’s voice softened and he waved his hand to beckon in the said Ms. Brooks into the room.
“Ryan, this is Stephanie Brooks, an associate at Peters, Watins and Roe. She’s going to be your advisor for the foreseeable future.”
At first Ryan didn’t focus on his father’s words. Stephanie Brooks was quite simply one of the most stunning women he had ever seen. She was tall with an athletic frame, but it was her green eyes and red hair that were absolutely glorious.
She gave him a contemptuous glance as Ryan stared at her. And then his father’s words sunk into his brain.
“Advisor?” said Ryan cautiously.
“Yes. She’ll shadow your movements and make sure that you act in the best interest of the company.”
“Shadow my movements? You’re giving me a babysitter?”
The elder Kaur folded his arms across his chest. “You can call it what you want.”
“Oh, no,” said Ryan standing. Anger flared in his chest. “You have absolutely gone too far. I agree I went overboard and I won’t do it again, but I’m not, read me, not going to have anyone shadow my movements.”
With that Ryan stormed out of the room.
CHAPTER THREE
Steph
Steph stared horrified as Ryan Kaur stalked out the library like a petulant child.
“Well,” said Mr. Kaur. His eyes bore into her like hot steel brands. “What are you waiting for?”
“Yes, sir,” said Stephanie. Because the owner of Kaur Industries was not a man to cross, and he held the key to her continued employment, she bounded after Ryan. She kept him in her sites as he blazed through the elegant mansion and followed him to the garage where he grabbed a set of keys out of gray metal box on the wall.
“Mr. Kaur,” said Stephanie.
Ryan’s eyes met hers blazing.
“Your services are not needed,” he said sternly.
Stephanie let the Marine mask fall over her face and stood ramrod straight. She stared him straight in the eye. It didn’t matter to her how angry he was. She sized up his lean, athletic frame and knew she could take him if she had to. But she didn’t know the parameters of this job, other than using her “persuasive moot court skills” to temper Ryan Kaur’s explosive nature.
“Apparently they are,” she said coldly. “Do you not have any self-control? Your father is very concerned about you.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Ryan. “He’s more concerned about a defense contract.”
“Regardless, he is your father. You owe him your respect.”
“Lady, you have no idea what you are talking about.” He moved toward a car, a red Jaguar convertible two-seater, and keyed open the door.
“I’m sure your father does not want you to leave.”
“Too bad,” said Ryan as he entered the car. He fired up the engine as the garage door opened and Steph had to act fast. She rushed to the car
and jumped into the front passenger seat with a thud.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Wherever you go, I go,” she said.
“Suit yourself,” said Ryan. He put the car into reverse and squealed out of the garage, and then as they cleared those doors, he threw the car into drive and pulled the car into a steep 180-degree turn. Steph bounced against the passenger side door as she jerked the seat belt into place on her body and snapped the buckle into place.
“Are you a maniac?” she yelled.
“Apparently,” said Ryan. His eyes smoldered with anger as he accelerated the car to race down the gravel driveway of the Kaur Estate. The Jaguar had a smooth ride, but the gravel flew around them. Stephanie thought it was a shame that the paint would get peppered by flying pieces of stone. It was a beautiful car, far beyond anything she would be able to afford. Steph’s initial impression of Ryan Kaur as a spoiled brat was confirmed by his abuse of this magnificent machine.
At the open iron gates at the entrance of the estate Ryan made a hard right onto the country road that threw Steph against the center console that held the stick shift. In the Marines Steph was trained to handle life and death situations, but this man was absolutely reckless. He turned his head to smile at her.
“Having fun?” he yelled above the roar of the wind in her ears.
She rolled her eyes. Steph had more fun on ten km runs with a full field pack. But by the look in Ryan’s eyes he was not caring about her fun quotient. He was deliberately trying to frighten her, which wasn’t going to work.
“Please,” she said trying to look unaffected by his antics. But this only encouraged Ryan to push limits, and he shifted the sports car into high gear. He utterly focused on the road ahead, anticipating the twists of the tiny country road. In a moment of madness Steph found his concentration and command of the road entrancing. The wind swept his straw colored hair into an unruly mess, and his tanned hand moved effortlessly on the stick. She got the sensation that the man and the machine were one, and she was in no actual danger even if he wanted to make it seem they were.
Steph laughed and broke Ryan’s concentration a second when he glanced at her. Although Steph affected a serious demeanor she was a dare devil at heart, just as her father and brothers were, and the road flying under them reminded her of that. From leaping with her brothers from their tree house, to deploying in Afghanistan to an artillery unit, she always pushed the limits of what she could do.
But Ryan Kaur was still a spoiled brat for all his mastery of the road. In the Marines, his attitude would be trained out of him within weeks. One thing she learned in the service was that the ones with the brashest attitudes were the first ones to break. She was sure Ryan Kaur would break with the first hard challenge he faced. Watching him take the road she understood Ryan Kaur now. He was the man who had everything, but more than that, everything he did came easily to him. It was evident he wasn’t just handsome with an athlete’s body, but he was too damn smart for his own good. Kaur probably figured he had all the angles covered, and there was no situation he couldn’t handle.
Well, he didn’t know Stephanie Brooks. Ryan Kaur wouldn’t get the best of her.
And apparently, Kaur was determined that Steph wouldn’t get one over on him. He up shifted once again, pushing the car towards eighty on a road that one should only drive thirty at most. This was the backwoods of Connecticut where the hilly roads were barely wide enough for two lanes, and a sharp curve popped every hundred feet. The ride took on a rollercoaster effect, with Steph rising from her seat as they flew down every hill and pushed her back into her seat as they climbed the next one and then she was pushed into the door or the center console on the next sharp curve. Her hair whipped her face as the tires squealed as the rubber sought to keep hold of the blacktop. She didn’t dare to speak and break Ryan’s focus. Every bit of Ryan’s concentration went into navigating the road at this frenetic pace. She wondered which would happen first, he burning off his anger, or they going up in a flaming wreck.
The trees were close to the road; close enough to produce a whoosh, whoosh sound as they passed each one. Stone fences built by early colonists merged into a grey blur, and yet Ryan kept taking the road with a ferocity Steph would have appreciated if he was a comrade-in-arms. But he wasn’t. He was her charge, and she wasn’t doing a very good job of controlling the situation.
A flash of tawny brown appeared ahead, bounding over a stone fence and directly in the road. Steph’s heart leaped to her throat. Her military target training surged to the forefront, and she estimated the time to impact as mere seconds. The deer, though moving quickly wasn’t faster than the car. Things were moving in slow motion for Steph now. She glanced at Ryan, whose hands were moving to jerk the wheel of the car to the right, which was an instinctual move. But death was on the both sides of the road, from both the trees and the stone fences. Impact with either at an angle would certainly turn the car over and in a convertible that was certain death. Steph leaned and pushed the wheel to straighten it. If they were going to survive, it would only be if they hit the deer dead on. It would crumple the front of the car, but the impact would release the air bags, which would hopefully save them.
It was a thin hope.
Ryan looked into her eyes, and she saw understanding there. He down-shifted in one smooth move though that wasn’t likely to help much, not at this speed. Metal thudded into several hundred pounds of moving flesh and muscle, and the crash jarred every bone in Steph’s body. The air bags released in a hiss, slamming against her abused body, and stealing the breath from her. The world went dark.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ryan
Ryan’s heart thudded in his chest and his blood roared in his ears. The woman was absolutely right in steering the car into the beast. It was the only way they could come through this alive. Ryan’s hands gripped the wheel, forcing the vehicle to steer straight into the panicked animal and he took the kinetic force of the crash through his arms and torso. The Jaguar hit the deer with sickening force that shocked every bone in his body. The air bags hit both of them barely a second later, and Ryan watched her body fly backward from the force.
He wanted to scream but instead a roar erupted from him as intense pain shuddered through every bone in his body. But the shock of the crash was nothing compared to the utter confusion that gripped him as his clothes tore as his body expanded. The seat belt popped off, and he rose from the car stopped dead in the middle of the road, radiator steam spewing from the wrecked front end. The deer lay gasping, blood spewing from a gash in its side.
With his mind still clouded with the shock of the impact he acted solely on instinct. And that told him tear into the neck of deer with claw and tooth.
It wasn’t until he had meat in his mouth that it dawned on him that claws were not a normal state of affairs, and neither was tearing the flesh of an animal with his teeth. His eyes focused to find his hands were no longer hands, but scaly claws with sharp black talons. And as blood dribbled down his jaw, the raw meat in his mouth tasted absolutely delicious. He tore off another chuck as the beast stilled beneath him and chomped on it.
Ryan decided he must be hallucinating, or he was unconscious and having hellacious dreams. This wasn’t, couldn’t happen.
A groan reached his ears, and he saw the woman, Stephanie Brooks, still strapped in to the car. He tilted his head and studied the scene. Alarm raced through every nerve in his body. Not just steam but smoke streamed from the ruined Jaguar, and the heat radiating off it told him the engine was on fire.
He rushed to the side the car and ripped Stephanie’s seatbelt off her with one fluid motion. He was surprised at the ease with which he could do this, but found his claws at the wrong angle to lift her from the car. With the overriding thought that he needed to pull the woman from the car he rose and pulled her from the car with his powerful jaws. The acrid smoke grew thicker and flames now licked the edges of the ruined hood. Ryan was all too aware the engine could
explode, and he had to get them both away from here.
Instinctually he clutched the woman in his claws. Ryan had snatched her away just in time. Fire now streamed over the top of the windshield and back toward the seats, torching them. The conflagration grew and then the engine exploded in a hail of fire and smoke as he moved higher from danger.
The heat from the blaze licked his body, and as he looked he was surprised to see his legs were now beefy, clawed haunches and a tail waved behind him. What’s more, when as he gazed at the car he was looking down, as if from an aerial view. If could chalk this up to drinking too much, he would have. But no, he hadn’t drunk anything at all today, and very little last night. He was as the saying went, sober as a judge.
Confounded, Ryan concentrated on the thing that made sense, the woman he gripped in his talons. Okay, the talon part didn’t make sense, but he was very concerned about her. She did not rouse from this rough handling and he worried that either the crash itself or this unusual form of transportation caused her harm. He had to get her medical care.
The tops of the trees were far below him now, and Ryan looked over his shoulder to see dusty blue wings coming from his shoulder. Okay, he was having grade A delusions now, and he probably wasn’t flying at all, or hadn’t saved the beautiful woman in his claws. He was probably burning up in his car.
Only he didn’t feel pain. Ryan felt wonderful. Gone were the constraints of his body, vanished was the sense he hadn’t fulfilled his potential. He was strong and powerful and he soared on the wind, free and unfettered by the chains of a mortal life.
This reminded him very much of hang gliding, a sport he partook of often. That was it. The shock of the crash befuddled his mind and all he was doing was taking to the air strapped into a glider’s frame.
He was hang gliding. That was the only explanation. Somehow, he was in a glider and holding onto the lovely Stephanie. What a treasure. The woman kept her head and saved them from death. Even though he was obviously very, very rattled, he did know that she did that.