Dragon Devotion
Page 2
Above him the two-story-tall figure groaned, and then with agonizing slowness began to tilt over. Pedestrians ran out of the way, seeking cover as it came slowly down, the simple wire frame collapsing in on itself as it hit the hard ground.
“Are you okay?” he asked the bystander.
“Yeah.”
Vanek reached down and casually wrenched at the metal apart as his armor faded out of sight before anyone could see it, even the man he’d saved.
“Go.”
With a nod of thanks, his eyes wide at the way Vanek had twisted the metal, the pedestrian left the scene.
“WHAT THE HELL!”
The angry voice, laced with just a bit of pain, was coming from behind him. Vanek eased his way out of the twisted wreckage and stood up.
A tiny fireball of a woman was charging right at him. Her short, dark golden-brown hair bounced wildly as she stormed forward, the sun catching the honey-gold highlights in it. Eyes of the palest blue were filled with anger, the white rays in the iris practically vibrating with fury.
She was short and thick all over in all the right places. She wore an all-black outfit, likely to blend in with the vehicle itself. There was absolutely nothing fashionable about the tight cloth shirt and nylon-like pants, but nevertheless, Vanek couldn’t stop staring at the silhouette they made of her figure.
The olive skin that was visible practically burned with a reddish fire, evidence of her feelings of the current situation.
“You!” she said, turning her head as she came toward him, pointing a lovely manicured hand at the driver of the next vehicle. “Continue on. The parade must go on. I’ll deal with this.”
Vanek held up his hands, watching the way she flicked the nails of the other hand, as if itching to stab them into his skin. He momentarily envisioned her running them down his back, but quickly pushed that to the side. Not now.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “You just ruined my best float. I told you to get out of the way.”
“I couldn’t. There was a man, and he was—”
“I saw you knock over the fence,” she interrupted. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Well, there was a dog and a leash. It tripped me, and—”
The woman eyed him up and down, her upturned eyes narrowing in derision. “You expect me to believe that you, a walking mountain of muscle, were tripped up by an itsy bitsy dog? Right.”
Vanek opened his mouth to say more, but she just shook her head. A look of sadness flashed behind the anger for just a moment, turning her eyes back toward blue. It was gone quickly though, and her eyes were once more nearly white.
“Just go,” she said, motioning with her hand. “I can’t handle this right now.”
Vanek started to stand his ground, but the short woman put her hands on her hips and glared up at him, an impressive feat considering he topped her by well over a foot. Somehow she still managed to stare down her nose at him as well.
“I said go. Stay here and I’ll call the police.” She turned and started to inspect the damage, ignoring him completely.
Vanek backed away. He desperately wanted to stay. To tell this stunning woman that he was sorry, and that he would make it up to her. But she was firm about him leaving, and he didn’t want to go. It wouldn’t work, not with his words failing him, as they were just now. His mind was working at full speed, however, and as he took one last look at her before the crowd closed around him, it spat out a single word.
Mate.
Holy shit. Corde had been right. He had needed to go out and make a mistake.
Vanek eyed the damage to the float, as she’d called it, and the collapsed structure of the man in an old-looking suit.
This was one hell of a mistake though.
Chapter Two
Harlow
She trudged up to the mayor’s office. Though she wasn’t going to actually see the mayor of Barton City, it was his office that had hired her float company, and it was now the mayor’s office that wanted to see her.
Which was understandable. The buffoon that had fallen into the street had somehow managed to destroy not only her best float, but the prized depiction of the city’s founder, Clinton Barton. The rest of her floats had continued on, as had all the other participants in the parade, but there was no doubt that the destruction of her float was the news.
Harlow waited quietly in the reception area until she was called in. To her surprise, the mayor was there, along with several other officials. She’d dealt with a few upon pitching her company to them, and a few she’d never met before.
“Miss Ryder.”
“Harlow, please,” she said. “Nobody calls me Miss Ryder.”
“Very well,” the mayor said. “Harlow. I’ll make it short and sweet.” He grimaced. “You were hired to provide six floats in our Founders Day Parade. We then paid a large sum of money to have a float made to depict Clinton Barton, our founder, as you know.”
She nodded, keeping her mouth shut. Here it comes…
“Yet right near the start of the parade, the entire depiction was destroyed. We are quite upset, as we did not get what we paid for. Therefore, we will be withholding the second part of our payment to you.” He nodded, as if happy with his own words. “I hope you understand.”
Harlow stood, open-mouthed. “No, I do not understand. It was in no way my fault that the float was destroyed. Not to mention that it was my float that was also destroyed. You aren’t the only ones that lost in this. Besides, I was not hired to provide route security. That was your job, wasn’t it? And you didn’t do it.”
One of the mayor’s associates, a reedy-thin man with a long beaked nose and a horrific combover stepped forward, clearing his throat. Harlow raised her eyebrows. Everything about him, from his brightly shined shoes and far-too-tight suit screamed one word to her: Lawyer.
“We suspected you might bring that up. You are correct. However, your contract stipulated that you were to stay in the middle of the road with no more than ten percent deviation, so as to avoid any interruptions like this, while staying under the approved rate of two miles an hour. Our analysis and pictures show that you were far over to the left, and also going nearly three miles an hour at the time of the incident. If you had been in the center of the road and going the prescribed speed, it is our belief that you would have been able to avoid the accident entirely, and thus deliver the entire parade as hired.”
Harlow sat down heavily as the legalese mumbo-jumbo sank in. They weren’t going to pay her. At all. It was obvious now. They’d very clearly spent the past day thinking about it, about how they could get out of giving her the money she desperately needed.
The image of the nearly destroyed float played in her mind, and she wanted to cry. Even with the full payment from the parade, it would have been hard for her to afford to fix the float, if not impossible. And that had been her best one. The others were all in much rougher shape. They were all smaller, unable to bear the load that this newer model could handle. Which meant only smaller displays could be built over them.
“Mr. Mayor, please. You have to give me the money. I need it. I wasn’t intentionally doing any of those things. I was just going with the parade, having fun. If you don’t pay, I can’t afford to get my float fixed. I might go under.”
The mayor shrugged. “I’m sorry, Miss Ryder, our decision is final.”
She wanted to throttle the slimy bastard then and there. Calling her Miss Ryder, after she’d just told him not to, was a calculated insult as well as a dismissal. Her first reaction was to throw a fit and start yelling at them, but a moment’s thought reminded her that that would be a terrible idea. It would just embarrass her further, and do little to get her any of the money she felt she deserved.
“Very well. But don’t expect me to give you a good review when asked,” she said stiffly, standing and walking from the room, doing her best to hold in the tears.
The company was going under.
There seemed no way around it. Her footsteps took her aimlessly through City Hall as she lost herself in a depression. The float company had been a dream she’d had, and now it was going up in smoke. All because one asshole had to stumble into her path and then somehow destroy her float, all while walking away unharmed. What the hell had she done to be so unlucky?
Harlow finally found herself in a low-traffic area, where she slumped into a random bench placed in front of a window. The tears started to come, and this time she didn’t fight them. Warm liquid streamed down her cheeks, but thankfully the full-fledged sobs held them back. Instead she just lamented about her own failure, and how painful the loss of her company would be once she was forced to sell it.
Footsteps rang out on the floor, coming nearer. She curled up tighter, pulling her feet up into the chair as she buried her head in her arms, hoping whoever it was would just walk on by. The heavy thuds slowed as they came near. Whoever it was, they were coming for her.
“Excuse me, are you Miss Ryder?”
She shuddered at the formal term, absolutely detesting it.
“I’m Harlow,” she said, not looking up. “Who are you?”
There was a pause, followed by a voice clearing its throat. “Someone who wants to make up for a mistake.”
Her head snapped up as the voice suddenly became familiar. “You,” she hissed, uncoiling to her feet and advancing on the behemoth that stood before her. “This is all your fault!”
“I know,” he said, nodding, not backing away from her venomous approach. “It is.”
Right now he was the last thing she wanted to deal with. As gorgeous as his strong features and thick, shortly-trimmed facial hair was, Harlow did not want to speak to him. Let alone give him the chance to apologize.
“You ruined everything,” she spat.
“I did. Which is why I’m here.” Warm brown eyes met her gaze and held it, the swirling reddish tones within them evoking a desire to speak to him, to listen to what he had to say.
Harlow bit back a sharp retort as she looked him over some more. Thick, luxurious black hair fell down the back of his neck in a mane that would make many women jealous. A broad forehead and defined nose accentuated his deeply set eyes even more. It all screamed power and culture to her, a combination she would have found intoxicating on any other occasion.
“How are you going to fix it?” she growled. “My float is destroyed and the city won’t pay me what they owe me, so I can’t get it fixed. I’m done for.”
The stranger looked at her for a long time, then nodded. “I am sorry for that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I understand that. But unfortunately, without my float I’m screwed, like I just told you.”
“I’ll make you a deal.”
Harlow glared at him. “A deal? I’m not that type of woman, you arrogant prick.”
His jaw dropped open in surprise so instantly it had to be genuine. “I was not going to insinuate that you were, Miss Ryder.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “My name is Harlow.”
“Of course. My apologies, Harlow. What I was going to say is that if you will do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner, that I will replace your float.”
It was her turn to be speechless.
“Is that acceptable to you?”
She shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs. “Let me get this straight. I come to dinner with you. In return, you’re going to get me a new float?”
“That is correct.”
“Are you insane?”
“I don’t think so? Why do you ask?”
“Because those things aren’t cheap.”
The stranger shrugged. “It matters not.”
Harlow thought it over. He was ultra-hot, polite, and trying to make things up to her. What did she really have to lose besides some of her time? Also, he was taking her out for food. Food she likely couldn’t afford herself. Mind made up, she let her anger fade, though it sullenly refused to go away completely, and probably wouldn’t until she had her new float.
“My mother always taught me never to go anywhere with strangers,” she said at last.
He grinned. “Well it’s a good thing we’ve met once before, isn’t it?” A massive paw was extended her way. “I’m Vanek.”
She extended her own hand, letting it be engulfed in his grip.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“Yes, yes it is. So far it’s been nothing but misery on my end.”
Vanek stood tall, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him.
“That, Harlow, is something I intend to start changing as soon as possible.”
Chapter Three
Vanek
He approached her hotel room, pausing to adjust the suit. Having never worn one before, he was still getting used to the feeling of wearing so much clothing. When he’d walked into the tailor’s that afternoon on advice from Kylie, he hadn’t expected that this is what the end result would be.
Still, according to her and Corde he looked dashing, and he hoped that Harlow would feel the same way when she opened the door. If she opened the door, he corrected. A part of him still doubted that she was going to show up, that her emotions would have had her already leaving despite his offer to buy her a new float.
Vanek had looked at the prices of those online with some help from Kylie, and the cost was rather steep. Still, considering the penthouse they were staying in, and all the renovations going on to the lower levels of the building to prep it to house more dragons, he felt the military wouldn’t object. After all, if that’s what it took to get him his mate, then it was worth it.
He knocked gently on the door, not wanting to scare her.
“Coming!”
A wave of euphoria-like relief swept across him. She was still there, and wasn’t surprised by his arrival. They’d exchanged information earlier before parting. If he were honest with himself, he’d wondered if she’d given him a fake hotel or room.
The door opened and his jaw nearly hit the floor. Gone was the all-black outfit from the day before. Gone were the suit pants and blazer she’d been in at the mayor’s office. Instead she now wore an elegant strapless gown of deep maroon that showed off plenty of shoulder and a hint of cleavage as well. It curved down around her hips before flaring ever so slightly out, falling just short of the floor, allowing her to walk with ease.
Her short hair was straightened and pinned back with a beautiful engraved clasp of some sort. A necklace of pearls around her neck completed the ensemble. Vanek had told her to dress up, but as she tucked the black clutch under one arm and emerged from the room, he had to admit he’d never expected anything quite like this.
A sugary-sweet smell filled the air as he inhaled her perfume, the aroma intoxicating but not overwhelming. His mouth actually began to salivate slightly as he tasted the air some more. The heady scent made him long to be able to run his lips over her neck, right to the source.
Slow. Move slowly. You can’t push this, he reminded himself. She hated him, or at least extremely disliked him, and was only going on the “date” so that she could get her new float out of the deal. It was up to him to convince her that she wanted a second date.
Taking a nervous breath, he extended his arm to her, bending it at the elbow. Harlow looked at it, looked at him, and then kept walking.
Okay, maybe not yet.
They reached the lobby, the elevator ride having been one of those painfully silent ones as both parties stared at a gray wall and waited for the last chime to sound. They exited and he stepped slightly ahead, pulling the door open to outside. A large luxurious SUV waited at the foot of the stairs for them.
Vanek waited for her at the top of the stairs. There was no railing in the middle, and he could see her trying to figure out if she wanted to move to the side of the steps, or take his arm.
“Okay, give me your arm,” she said, looping her own through it and using him as a support as they descended.
He dou
bted she truly needed it, but it definitely made it easier, that was for certain. At one point she “stumbled” slightly and her hand tightened around his forearm. Although he barely noticed the increase in pressure himself, Vanek couldn’t help but flex his forearm, letting her feel the solidness of the muscle underneath his ridiculous suit. She needed to know that as his mate, he would always be there to protect her, no matter what.
“Thanks,” she said as they reached the bottom, her hand slipping from his again, albeit slower than perhaps it could have been.
Or was that just his imagination?
Vanek pushed the thought aside and stepped forward to open the rear door for her.
Harlow looked up at him as she slid in, a thoughtful expression on her face. She didn’t say anything. Once she was seated he closed the door and rushed around to the far side, climbing in next to her.
“Where was all this gentlemanly niceness and chivalry during the parade?” she teased as he politely told the driver that they were ready.
The vehicle pulled into motion while he mulled over her question. “I have no good answer to that,” he said at last. “Do you ever get into a place where you’ve got a lot on your mind? Big questions, and you’re trying to figure out what to do? So you go for a walk outside, and the world just seems to be in a fog that you have to push through? As if none of it’s real. Then you feel something calling you, beckoning you. It forces you to chase after it. To follow it.”
Harlow was nodding along as he spoke, and Vanek thought perhaps she was understanding where he was coming from.
“I get that,” she said. “Though I must admit, I’ve never had my calling be to go destroy someone else’s stuff.”
Vanek groaned. “I am so sorry about that. It was not my intention.”
She giggled. “I would hope not. If all you wanted to do was take me to dinner, this makes a much better first impression than caving in the front of my float.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Okay, you have me there. But you wouldn’t have given me the time of day to ask you out if I hadn’t.”
Harlow looked up at him curiously. “What makes you say that? Do I have Ultra-Bitch stamped to my forehead or something?”