Onyx Dragons: Amber (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 4)

by Starla Night

  "Then we will uncover the true extent of Chrysoberyl's plan. Once he cannot marry you to gain access to our company, he will focus on proving that we have acted in an undragonlike manner. So we must launch our next product as if everything is normal. Even though nothing is normal."

  The siblings sobered.

  She balled her fists. How to prove her brothers were blameless? She was the only one who'd acted in an undragonlike manner. What could they do to her? It was unfair.

  Mal focused on her fists and then her face. "Do not lose your temper."

  She shook her head and released her fists. "Of course."

  "Avoid the inspectors. Don't give them an excuse." Mal moved his executive gaze to Syen. "Make them look more human. I don't want to explain another incident to the mayor."

  He nodded once and strode to the door.

  The rest of the dragons stood and the meeting broke up.

  Amber followed Syen.

  Pyro stopped her. "Please don't hurt Darcy."

  "I will hurt no human, Pyro."

  "Darcy's my friend. He's a treasure to dragons."

  She moved out of the way to let the others past in the narrow hall. "He's my treasure too."

  "And while I want him to be happy, I don't want him to get hurt." The deadly red gleam returned. "Or else I'll hurt you."

  Surprise shook her followed by hope. Pyro was coming around to treat her like a real sibling? He threatened her just like he'd threaten any of her brothers? She didn't know how to respond as he flew off with Syen and their other dragons to arrange security.

  Passing the hall to her office, she saw the dragon inspectors who muttered things like "noble bearing" and "uplifts all who enter her graceful presence, even for an instant."

  Don't rend them limb from limb.

  In her office, she locked away her files and made sure she had what she needed to work remotely. Then, she got a little nervous. Darcy had told her visit. He'd meant after work, not at eleven o'clock in the morning.

  Well, maybe she could delay.

  Amber pulled out her files and began her usual work, testing to see just how long until the inspectors dared to enter her office. Barging into Mal's was one thing. But a female dragon's office? As the hour ticked by, she completed work assignments.

  Serpentine finally traipsed into her office, cautious but smarmy. His snout had retracted and his features were now more human although he kept his green hue. "I heard we are leaving this low caste building. Where are we going?"

  "I'm going into the human world."

  "Ugh. Why?"

  "You want to meet my fiancé."

  His lip curled. "This fiction again. Surely no such arrogant, reckless, stupid male exists, dragon or human."

  "Let's find out." She flew out of the tube and lifted into the air.

  Darcy wouldn't mind she was coming...she hoped.

  None of her brothers considered his proposal serious, and they knew Darcy better than she did. Pyro knew him best of all.

  No human would be so stupid as to initiate sex with a female dragon.

  If she was wrong, the whole company was about to find out.

  Chapter Nine

  Darcy peered out the windows of his family boutique. He locked the doors, set the closed sign, and hurried into the staging room in the back.

  Amber could not see this.

  "Darcy, are you ready yet?" The half-nude woman, Tara, sprawled across pink silk and faux fur sheets. She thrust her peacock-teal corseted bosoms at him. Her messy blonde hair spilled down her back. "The peacock feathers are digging into my butt."

  He snapped several pics. "Okay, that's a wrap."

  "Already? But I have three more outfits."

  "They'll have to wait for the honeymoon." He connected the camera to her laptop and displayed the gallery. "Choose one to print and put on some clothes."

  Tara clomped across the hard floor in green stripper heels and a peacock boa. A few flicks through the gallery, and she crossed her arms. "What the heck is this?"

  "Your groom's gift, as brought to you by your ever-loving, ever put-upon older brother."

  "I demand a redo."

  "Fortunately, we don't have time."

  "What kind of a groom's gift is 'boudoir photos' that's ninety-percent the boudoir?" Tara tapped the middle photo. "You centered on my naval, Darcy. This shot looks like I'm buried neck-deep in an avalanche."

  "We'll zoom in on your face."

  "And you shot up my nose. So you want to enlarge a photo of my nostrils."

  "I'm not a professional photographer."

  "But you're also not an idiot. You can aim." Tara dragged a tripod into the center of the room. "Okay, look. I'll aim. Nicole, go be my fake model."

  "No." Nicole, their youngest sister, crossed her army boot-clad ankles beneath her dark gray tights and long-sleeved blue dress. She opened a bag of white cheddar Cheetos. "I take no part in this abomination."

  "Come on. One of you. Please pretend to be me."

  "We need to wrap this up, guys."

  "Darcy, I was already wrapped up and that's the problem." Tara tilted her head at her older brother. "What's the rush? I'm the one with the final dress fitting in a few minutes."

  "A representative from the Onyx Corporation is dropping by. Better she sees you getting fitted for your dress than..." he gestured at the dais. "...your groom."

  "Oh." Tara aimed the tripod at him, slunk over with the remote control, and threw her boa over his shoulders. "Like this?"

  The picture clicked on him rolling his eyes at the ceiling while she pretended to hump him from behind.

  He casually shoved her off. "Exactly."

  "She?" Nicole crunched her snack. "I thought the Onyx clients were dragons."

  "They are. She's a dragon."

  "Well, whatever." Nicole licked her fingers and crumpled the bag. "Tara's right. If your dragon shifts naked, she's used to a little skin."

  He peeked around the corner at the front again.

  Pyro had warned him that Amber was on her way. Something about business and "playing along." This wasn't a social call.

  Of course, he wanted to see Amber. See her socially, with her clothes on, and then unsocially, with her clothes off.

  Last night, Darcy hadn't slept well. His dreams had alternated between reliving the aching heat from their kiss to shivering with nerves that she would turn up today saying she'd changed her mind and wanted to stay friends.

  "Nicole, please be me?" Tara begged. "Just so I can set the focus."

  Nicole sighed and clomped to the stage. "Why not hunt down your photographer?"

  "Mom's doing it." Tara aimed the camera. "Stick out your chest."

  Nicole hugged her elbows. "Mom's the one who thought boudoir photos were inappropriate. She wanted you to get Ed a tie."

  "He's got loads of ties. Nicole, chest."

  "I'm just saying that since your professional photographer is married to your wedding planner it's really unlikely that he forgot the date or time."

  "So long as he's there for the wedding I forgive him." Tara straightened, put her hands on her hips, and arched her back. "Nicole! Chest."

  Nicole sighed and laid back into a slinky version of Tara's pose. "Like this?"

  The lights flashed as Tara snapped a picture. "Perfect."

  Nicole's face dropped. "Did you just take a picture of me?"

  Tara laughed hysterically. "I'll put it on the website for your designer bio. Darcy can print you a poster for your bedroom."

  "Did you dare?"

  Tara giggled.

  Nicole jumped to her army-booted feet and chased a whooping Tara across the boudoir set, peacock feathers bouncing. They almost ran smack into their mother pushing open the delivery doors.

  "Tara! Nicole!" Mom clutched her shopping. "Nicole, no chasing Tara in the week of her wedding. The last thing she needs is to fall on the concrete and break her nose."

  Nicole slouched back to the chair and plopped in. "She started it."


  "Tara, that does not look like the proper undergarments for your final wedding dress fitting happening in, oh, twenty minutes."

  "Darcy's not done with the boudoir photos yet." Tara flounced to the stage and dropped to a seductive crouch, one knee down, biting her fingers like a blonde vamp. "Mmkay, Darcy, take the picture."

  Mom raised one brow. "Do you really think that's appropriate?"

  "No," Darcy agreed, hugging his mother. "Me neither. Thank you."

  "Aww."

  "Now, I found lovely sunflowers for your bouquet." Mom set a small bucket of the bright yellow flowers on the Mission table. "The sunflowers are early this year and the florist assured me he can find more for the bridesmaids."

  Tara posed and clicked the remote. She checked the camera and wrinkled her nose. "Mom, can you help me?"

  "There!" Mom wound a gorgeous blue lace ribbon around the bright sunflowers. She tried to press it into Tara's hands. "Won't this look dramatic while you're walking down the aisle?"

  Tara didn't take the flowers. "I'm doing a broach bouquet."

  "Oh, but this is more you. You love sunflowers!" She hugged Tara. "You always dreamed of a July wedding with a sunflower bouquet."

  "When I was fifteen."

  "Ever since you were fifteen," Mom agreed and pressed the bouquet into her crooked elbow. "The sunflowers blooming early this year is a sign. Don't give up your dreams for a stranger, Tara. Be true to yourself."

  "I am."

  "Good. I'm just making sure." She kissed Tara's head. "You look so pretty. Ed better appreciate the photos."

  "He will if he likes Victorian ankle and wrist 'porn'," Nicole snerked.

  "Really? No." Mom scrolled through the gallery. "Oh. Ah...These photos are artful...and, ah, anyway, it's wrong for any man to have dirty thoughts about my daughters."

  Tara rolled her lips.

  Nicole kept her gaze on her phone. "Mom, it's supposed to be wank material for her future husband."

  "Don't be crude, Nicole, your emo phase is supposed to be over. We pay your therapist far too much."

  "She's underpaid for what I have to deal with," Nicole muttered. "Such as someone canceling Tara's boudoir photos."

  "No one canceled anything. Photographers make mistakes."

  Nicole lifted the screen. "Do they make mistakes when the bride's mother texts them not to come?"

  Everyone stared. Nicole hadn't been engrossed in her own phone; she'd pick-pocketed her mother's, broken into the contacts, and uncovered text proof of the crime.

  Well, that sounded like drama Darcy wanted to avoid. He kept his head down and connected the laptop to the business printer.

  "Mom. " Tara put her fists on her hips. "You didn't."

  Their mother flushed and snatched her phone. "Well, I just ... Tara, you want this wedding to be DIY and it's not right to hire someone for what should be a nice family bonding experience. Plus, it's cheaper."

  "Not when she already paid," Nicole pointed out. "And this is not the event for brother-sister bonding, right Darcy?"

  He wisely kept his mouth shut.

  "I'm going to go change for the dress fitting." Tara slunk behind the folding wall.

  "Nicole, you have no right to break into other people's phones. Snooping is a nasty habit. Now you've upset Tara."

  "Oh, that's my fault?"

  Mom rolled her eyes. "Darcy, promise me you'll never get married."

  "If he's smart, he'll elope."

  Mom clutched his arm. "Promise you won't elope!"

  "I won't elope." He kissed her on the forehead. "But don't worry. My wedding day's a ways off."

  "He doesn't even have a girlfriend," Nicole commented.

  The worry lines etched around her eyes softened. She smiled. "Good. By then, maybe our business will have turned around and you can have your dream wedding like Jackie instead of this DIY headache."

  "Tara likes DIY," Nicole said.

  Everyone ignored her.

  Tara slunk out of the fitting room again in the same peacock boudoir outfit. "I forgot that my dress and everything is with the wedding planner."

  "At least Mom can't cancel it." Nicole crossed her legs again.

  "I'm not canceling anything important. I'm making your big day more special by including family." Mom smoothed Tara's hair around her peacock fascinator. "You deserve the most spectacular, unforgettable wedding of all time. But you tell your wedding planner everything and me nothing. I have to fight to be included. Sometimes my ideas go awry. Can you forgive your mom's imperfections?"

  Tara hesitated and started to nod.

  "Your imperfections cross the line at weddings." Nicole sipped her coffee, relentless. "Have you considered getting screened for early-onset? Dementia affects everyone."

  Mom's lips flattened. She bumped Tara's forehead. "I have the perfect role for Nicole. She can provide standup comedy at your bachelorette party."

  Tara snort-laughed.

  "Har de har har," Nicole grumbled. "No one listened to Cassandra when they pulled the wooden horse into Troy, either."

  Darcy's mom and sisters bantered while he printed out the nicest photo for the groom's gift. Although they squabbled and teased like ordinary siblings, they had each other's backs every day when they committed their lives to save the floundering family business.

  His phone vibrated with a text.

  Amber. Are you at the boutique?

  Darcy's heart kicked and heat flooded his groin. He texted back. Here. Are you out front?

  Your store says closed.

  Not to you. He pocketed his phone and eased toward the shop while the women of his family focused on the laptop. He just needed to slip around undetected, meet with Amber, and—

  "You have got to be kidding." Tara lifted the photo from the printer and pointed at Darcy. "This is the groom's photo? The one that points up my nose?"

  Nicole chimed in, "Darcy's also in charge of the photo reel for the Bachelor/Bachelorette combo party."

  Hmm. He could see why his mom was after Nicole.

  Tara yanked off her peacock stiletto and stomped unevenly toward him. "I didn't realize you had a death wish, Darcy." She slashed the stiletto.

  He waltzed backward avoiding her attacks. "Tara, you look beautiful from every angle."

  "Love is blind," Nicole agreed.

  Tara backed him up against the wall. "And soon you will be too."

  He pinched the delicate, pointed stem digging into his breast pocket. "But then I'll never get to enjoy what you do with Nicole's boudoir picture."

  Tara rested her weight on one heel. "Oh..."

  Nicole bounced to her feet. "That's right, Tara. I'd hate for your expensive camera to break right before your fancy Vegas honeymoon."

  Tara rotated away from Darcy, her shoe now out in a placating manner. "Come on, Nicole, it was just a joke."

  "Ha ha. And yet I didn't hear you say, 'Oh, Nicole, I will not do anything with it.'"

  "Oh, of course I'm, um, not. Probably. Besides, if you break my camera, the picture's backed up to the cloud."

  Nicole's expression flattened into danger.

  Tara shrieked and fled around the back of their mom.

  Mom put up her hands. "Girls. Girls!"

  "And my work here is done," Darcy murmured and escaped around the corner into the shop to meet up with—

  Amber stood in the middle of the shop floor.

  His stomach squeezed.

  A schoolgirl plaid skirt hugged her curves and a soft blouse begged for his hands to stroke. Banked fire in her amber eyes kindled with secret heat. She remembered last night's kiss, reacted to it, and wanted more.

  Yes.

  "I came in," she said, somewhat awkward.

  Three men flanked her wearing long robes and bright body paint. They weren't the weirdest sight in downtown Portland this week.

  "Welcome." He took her hands reassuringly. "It's a pleasure to see you again so soon."

  "You said the store wasn't locked for
me, but it didn't open, so I tried harder."

  The shop door swung on its hinges, locks broken and bars bent.

  "I should have been more specific." He brushed his lips across the tips of her fingers.

  A soft blush crept over her cheeks and the fires burned hotter.

  His cock hardened. "The shop's technology isn't advanced."

  "Oh." She gripped his fingers. "I'll fix it."

  "No need. I'm glad to see you."

  The man in light yellow body paint muttered to the bluish-gray man holding a tablet and stylus, "The human shows no fear."

  "Is he lacking sense or mentally deficient?" the bluish-gray man asked.

  "Both," the man in green body paint replied decisively, and the bluish-gray man scribbled.

  Amber's fingers flexed in his. Sharp claws pricked her skin and scales shivered up her knuckles. She swallowed hard.

  Darcy stroked her knuckles. "And who are your associates?"

  "Inspectors from the Gentleman's Society." She mentioned their names, and they puffed importantly. "They didn't like what we wrote about the incident last night, and so they're investigating my brothers for undragonlike behavior."

  "Your brothers are dragons." He smiled at the ruffled inspectors. "Their behavior is always dragonlike."

  Her fingers softened. "Thank you, Darcy."

  "The human appeases the dominant female," Ulexite muttered behind his yellowish hand. "Just like her brothers pretend she is not in charge, the human also knows if he angers her, she will bite his face."

  Amber bristled.

  Darcy rubbed his thumbs over her clenched knuckles. "And do inspectors make up little stories about you often?"

  "Constantly."

  Serpentine puffed himself up. "We do not make up stories, human. We uncover the truth with our observations."

  "I'm not afraid Amber will bite my face." He pulled Amber into his arms, savoring her soft curves, and cradled her head. "I'm dreaming about it."

  "I'd never bite you, Darcy."

  "Not even a little bit?" He licked his lips. "Not even if I beg?"

  She reacted to his teasing tone with confusion. "This space is too small to transform."

  "No transforming." He nuzzled her cheek. "You can stay entirely human and start with biting my mouth, and then my lips, and then my tongue...and then, if you enjoy that, we can take turns and I'll do the biting."