Burning Desire

by Donna Grant

  He was—simply put—extraordinary.

  Her fingers itched to sink into his wheat-colored hair that was thick and kept in longish waves. His eyes were the color of shamrocks—a bright, vivid green—and saw everything.

  He wore the black suit with ease. The cut of it showing off his wide shoulders and narrow hips. The simple white shirt beneath was left unbuttoned at the top with no tie in sight.

  The flash of onyx and pearl at his wrists drew her eye to his cuff links. It was the only jewelry he wore except for his watch.

  He was all male—hard, vigorous, and intense.

  His face appeared to be cut from granite. The hard line of his jaw only amplified his square chin and the little indent in the middle. Though he appeared relaxed and at ease, she knew he was anything but. His gaze swept the restaurant, taking in everything in that one glance. And when his green gaze focused on her, her heart skidded and her stomach fluttered.

  While at one time she might have found some excitement at the thought of bedding a human, no male—Fae or human—stirred her as Kiril did. He faced the world as if daring it to challenge him.

  He was the embodiment of excitement, intrigue … fascination.

  Farrell had warned her that Kiril was an experienced flirt who had no problem getting any woman he wanted. With charm that could seduce an angel into Hell itself, she understood why. It wasn’t just his charm either. It was the way he looked at her when she talked, as if she were the only person in the entire world that he wanted to be with, to listen to.

  He made her feel special and unique.

  Remarkable.

  How amazing her time with him would be, but a glimpse of one of her brother’s lackeys reminded her that she was proving herself and her loyalty to her family. She wasn’t with Kiril for fun. She had a job to do. Her very life depended upon it. Her family was one of the most powerful in the Dark Fae world.

  She had already shamed them. This was her last chance—in all ways.

  Her brother, Farrell, waited in the wings for her to screw up so he could kill her. He was watching her every move, ensuring she carried through with things exactly as instructed and deliver a Dragon King to their father.

  For a short time during their meal, Shara allowed herself to believe it was all real. Daydreaming. It’s what had sustained her for six hundred years while being kept prisoner in her own room for her last transgression. Six hundred years of thinking how she was forgotten as her parents doted on her elder siblings and their accomplishments while she was left to do as she pleased.

  Six hundred years yearning to make her own decisions and come and go as she wished. Six hundred years of no one but herself for company. She had been shunned by her family during the entire imprisonment.

  Shara blinked and focused on her plate of pasta. She couldn’t let anything ruin her mission, regardless of how handsome Kiril was or how interested he pretended to be.

  “Family, Shara. It’s all you have. This is your last chance to prove yourself. Don’t muck this up. You won’t like the consequences.”

  Farrell’s warning sounded through her mind again. She couldn’t screw up again. Farrell was expecting her to fail. He wanted her to so he could remove her as an embarrassment from the family.

  No matter how appealing and attractive she found Kiril, he was a Dragon King, and the Dark needed him. And she would be the one to deliver him.

  There were no excuses, no exemptions.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said. She watched his throat move as he swallowed the last of his wine.

  His skin was deeply tanned and appeared to have a golden tone in the dim lights of the restaurant. Farrell had gone into detail about the type of women Kiril was seen with. None of them had been Fae. It was one of a long list of reasons that Shara used glamour. Kiril wouldn’t lower himself to associate with the Dark. No Dragon King would associate with any Fae, for that matter.

  Oh, he might talk to her brother at the pub, but he would never take one to dinner. Or to his bed. She might wish he could see the real her, because he was the first in six centuries. But in the end it didn’t matter what he saw. The end justified the means.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  His voice, deep and seductive, made bumps rise over her skin. His accent, thick and stirring, made her legs weak. Damn him for affecting her this way, but then what did she expect after finally being free of her prison? Anyone would probably make her feel like this. Kiril was no one special.

  The plan had been for her to tease him and walk away, but when he had asked her to dinner, she hadn’t been able to refuse. To share a nice dinner with a man like Kiril. Besides, it was time alone with him. Now it was time for her to walk away.

  He threw down a wad of money on the table and stood. Shara looked at the hand he held out for her. She recalled his touch on her skin all too clearly. Holding his arm as he walked her to the restaurant was one thing, but did she dare take his hand? The warmth, the strength. It made her feel like her insides had turned to jelly.

  If he could do that with a simple touch of his hand, what would it be like in his arms, his lips on hers? His skin gliding against hers? His cock filling her?

  Shara slid her palm against his and felt a shock zing through her. She jerked her gaze to him, but he was looking away.

  Her legs wobbled a bit as she stood. She was going to have to do something about her needs before she saw him again. Being so near his magnetism, the sheer masculine confidence that he exuded was heady. Yet it was his sex appeal, the virile enticement that stole her breath and made desire pool low in her belly.

  His long, tapered fingers wrapped around her hand. He pulled her to him until their bodies were a hairsbreadth from touching. His gaze slid to her, sucking her in until she was drowning in his shamrock green eyes. The world gradually faded away.

  It was just the two of them.

  He wasn’t a Dragon King.

  And she wasn’t a Dark Fae.

  They were a man and a woman, desire thick between them.

  Then she blinked and reality crashed around her. If she didn’t put some space between herself and Mr. Sexy she was going to do something really stupid. Again. All because her body was out of control.

  Thankfully, he walked them to the door of the restaurant. When they stepped outside, she was grateful for the breeze off the water that cooled her heated skin and cleared her muddled head.

  “It was nice to meet you, Kiril.”

  He didn’t release her hand as she expected. Instead, he tightened his grip a fraction. “So you’ll walk away? Just like that?”

  He had no idea how she wanted to melt against him and ask him to do as he pleased with her. For six centuries no one had touched her. He had no idea how desperately she wanted to feel more of him. Walk away? She couldn’t do it.

  But she had to. Shara grasped the last shred of her control and held tight. “It’s been an amazing evening.”

  “It has.” He seemed as surprised as she at her words. “It wouldna be very gallant of me no’ to walk you to where you want to go.”

  This made her smile. Leave it to a Dragon King to think she needed his assistance. “I know these streets, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “It appears I’ve no other recourse,” he said and lifted her hand to his mouth. “Good evening, Shara.”

  Her stomach quivered when his warm lips touched the back of her hand. He lingered for just a moment, his eyes locked with hers, before he straightened and released his hold on her hand.

  The hold he had on her mind and body, however, would remain for a long, long time.

  Shara had to swallow before she could find her voice. “Good evening, Kiril.”

  Somehow she turned and walked away, blending in with the crowds. Her heart pounded in her chest with each step, and every fiber of her being urged her to go back to him. That was just her loneliness talking, however.

  Shara walked four blocks, zigzagging around buildings as she did. When she was positiv
e Kiril hadn’t followed her, she sagged against a building in an alley and gulped in air. How foolish she was to think she could handle a man like Kiril. He was as old as time. He had seen everything human and Fae could do to each other and the Dragon Kings, and he expected every one.

  Shara lifted one of her hands before her to see it shaking. She’d thought he might demand she reveal who she really was after dinner when he had looked so intently at her. Her ruse had worked, and because of that, Farrell would expect her to play it again.

  There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her family. Family was life in the Fae world. They had asked her to play a part in bringing down a Dragon King, and she wouldn’t fail them.

  Shara walked to the end of the alley and turned right only to come face-to-face with Farrell’s livid face. She knew his hatred, knew how he sought to have all the glory so their father would favor him. At one time she had looked up to him, but that was a long time ago. Now, she could barely stand to be around him.

  He shoved his forearm under her chin and slammed her against the brick wall viciously. “We had a plan. All you had to do was stick to it.”

  “It was the plan,” she said as she pushed against his arm. Farrell had always loved to try to hurt her. It was his way, a way no one in her family thought twice about. But she had never been the meek female expected of a Dark. “I moved things along a little sooner. The idea is to capture a Dragon King. I don’t think Father cares how we go about it.”

  Farrell peeled back his lips, his red eyes flashing in fury. “That wasn’t my plan. You need to learn to follow my orders.”

  “Seduction can’t be done by orders. Things change, and I need to be able to adjust with them.”

  He growled and spun away from her. “You seemed awfully chatty with him during the meal. Casual even. What did he say to you?”

  “The usual things men and women talk about.”

  Farrell jerked around. “Are you trying to be funny? You won’t ruin this for me, Shara. I won’t let you.”

  “I may have been locked away for six hundred years, but for a thousand before that I was on my own, Farrell. I know men. I remember how to flirt, how to use my body. I did everything right.”

  Farrell pointed his finger in her face. “You better hope you did a good enough job that he’s looking for you tomorrow night.”

  “I didn’t plan on seeing him tomorrow night.” She hadn’t actually planned anything, but she knew if she saw him again so soon she wouldn’t be able to control herself. The failure Farrell expected would be all but his. “The night after will be time enough.”

  “I knew you were the wrong female for this, but Father was adamant,” Farrell said with scorn and dropped his hand.

  “When Kiril doesn’t see me tomorrow night, he’ll return the next night looking. The longer I keep him waiting, the more anxious he’ll be to find me.”

  Farrell looked her up and down with disdain. “You think highly of yourself. Thankfully your glamour helped to add … something … to your looks, or Kiril might have passed you by.”

  “I answer to Father, not you.”

  “Out here you answer to me,” Farrell stated tightly. “I’m running this operation, and you’d best remember. Trust me, no one will miss you if you die.”

  Shara stood in the alley long after Farrell walked away. But it wasn’t his words she was thinking about. It was Kiril and his shamrock-green eyes.

  * * *

  Kiril was cranky and on edge when he entered an Doras. He should have gone home after his meal with Shara, but if the Dark wanted to play, he was more than willing. He told himself it was because they had sent a female to entice him, but the real reason was his inescapable reaction to Shara.

  He hadn’t wanted her to walk away. In fact, he had almost followed her.

  Kiril wasn’t sure what he sought from her, only that he wanted to spend more time with her. And not just because he was spying on the Dark, but because he enjoyed her company.

  A Dark Fae.

  How his brethren would laugh if they knew.

  Maybe it was the past weeks on his own, unable to shift that was making him lose his edge. Which was why he was enlarging the cellar beneath his house. If he couldn’t fly, the cellar would at least allow him to shift into dragon form and ease some of his frustration.

  “No woman on your arm tonight?”

  Kiril ground his teeth to keep from lashing out at Farrell. The Dark had a knack for approaching when Kiril least wanted his company. Which happened to be all the time.

  “No’ tonight.” Kiril walked to the bar and took a vacant stool while motioning to the bartender.

  He was known at the pub, so he didn’t have to tell the bartender what he wanted. In a matter of moments a glass of whisky—unfortunately Irish—was set in front of him. Kiril drained it in one gulp and lifted the empty glass for another.

  “Bad night?” Farrell asked. He took the spot next to Kiril, making himself comfortable.

  Kiril shrugged, wishing like hell he could make Farrell disappear. It was bad enough he came to the pub that was infested with Dark Fae every day. That didn’t mean he wanted to talk to any of them. He was there for bits of information they didn’t bother whispering about. “Just a long day.”

  “Some more whisky should take care of that. Tell me, my friend, how long are you staying in Ireland?” Farrell asked.

  Kiril nodded to the bartender for yet another refill before he swiveled his head to Farrell. “I doona know. I’ve no’ put a timetable on things.”

  “I’m having a party in a few weeks. I’m hoping you’ll stay for it.”

  It was all Kiril could do not to roll his eyes and laugh outright. He knew exactly what it was—a trap to capture him. If he didn’t have the information he needed as well as discovering where Rhi was, he might have to attend.

  “Sounds like fun,” he managed to say.

  “My get-togethers always are. Plenty of beautiful women for you to choose from. Unless you’ve found someone by then. In that case, feel free to bring her along.”

  Farrell ran a hand through his chin-length black hair liberally laced with silver. His red eyes locked on him, and he was leaning toward Kiril, too interested in the night and his plans.

  That’s when realization hit Kiril. It was Farrell who’d sent Shara. It didn’t come as that great of a surprise. He speculated that Farrell would go to any lengths to capture him.

  With as many Dark as were in the pub, they could try to take him then. The entire town of Cork swarmed with Dark Fae. They could try and seize him without going to such extremes.

  What else did they want then?

  Kiril almost smiled when it struck him. They searched for something hidden by the King of Kings. If neither Kellan nor Tristan had told the Dark the answer when they used force, the Dark were attempting another tactic.

  How sorry they would be when they realized he wouldn’t tell them anything because he didn’t know the answer. Only two Dragon Kings knew whatever it was the Dark searched for—Kellan and Constantine.

  Kellan—because he kept their history—but he hadn’t given it away, and Con never would either.

  It was going to be a hell of a few days.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kiril rolled onto his back and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of his bedroom with a groan. He threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight pouring through his many bedroom windows. Much to his disappointment, Farrell had left the pub early.

  It would have been easy to find another Dark Fae to interact with, but Kiril discovered his mind was on other things—more correctly, on another Dark.

  Not even in sleep could he get away from her. Shara appeared in his dreams. She would stand off to the side, away from everything. No matter how many times he tried to get near her, he couldn’t close the distance.

  Kiril sat up and raked a hand through his hair. In the light of dawn, Shara was still on his mind. She was a Dark, a spy sent to monitor a spy. Th
e irony didn’t go unnoticed. Still, he wanted more time with her. To hear her laugh, to see her smile … to feel her silky skin beneath his palm again. It was madness, but there was no denying the truth of it.

  Kiril threw off the sheet and rose from the bed. He walked naked across the large room to the connected bathroom and turned on the shower. He stood beneath the water and let it rain over him.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed like that as he continued to think of Shara. Finally, he grabbed the soap and washed. When his hair and body were clean and rinsed, Kiril shut off the water and exited the shower, reaching for the towel on the hook as he did.

  His gaze immediately went to the large window overlooking the expanse of lawn that extended beyond the house. He briefly tossed aside the towel and walked out of the bathroom to the double doors in his bedroom that led out to a balcony.

  Kiril threw open the doors and simply stood there. The Dark Fae were hidden in the trees at the edge of his lawn watching, waiting for him to make a wrong move. He remained there letting them look their fill of him. If they wanted a show, he was happy to give it.

  When he felt a push against his mind, he turned away and reentered his room. At the same time every day Con would use the mental link between Dragon Kings to contact him.

  Kiril opened his mind to Con’s nudge. “Aye.”

  “You’re in a foul mood,” Constantine said. “What happened?”

  Kiril briefly thought about leaving out Shara, but if he were taken by the Dark, the Kings needed to know who to look for. “The Dark tried a new tactic last night.”

  “Really? And what would that be?”

  “A woman.”

  There was a pregnant pause before Con said, “You’ve made it known that you like a woman on your arm so it doesna surprise me.”

  “She used glamour to try to conceal her red eyes and silver in her hair.”

  Con sighed loudly. “We should be thankful it’s that easy to spot the Dark Fae. If the use of evil magic didna change them, we’d be fucked. Tell me about the woman.”

  “Shara. Her name is Shara.” Kiril dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a dark green shirt. He left his room and descended the curving staircase to the kitchen where the cook had left his breakfast waiting.