by Jane Jamison
Shirley was the protective type, but she was all bark and no bite. Still, Dalton didn’t need to know.
Dalton, however, wasn’t easily intimidated. “You and who else?” He gave her a good once-over. His smile made sure they knew he was kidding. “I’d never let anything happen to her. You can count on it.”
Shirley gave him the same kind of once-over. “Uh-huh. Just make sure of it. Now what’s the plan, people? I don’t want to cramp anyone’s style.”
“I’ve chartered a helicopter ride over the Strip.”
“Oh, wow. I’ve always wanted to ride in a helicopter.” Shirley’s enthusiasm died too quickly. “But I’m guessing you didn’t charter it for the three of us.”
“No, but you’re welcome to tag along.”
Peyton could’ve slapped Dalton. “Damn. Talk about a shitty invitation.”
Luckily for Dalton, Shirley didn’t take it badly. “No, it’s okay. I’d feel out of place sitting between you two anyway.”
Dalton took her friend’s hand. “Inside, girl. And you’re not the one who’ll be sitting in the middle. I’ll get to have both of you, one on each side of me.”
At least he’d made up for his earlier rudeness. “Good idea. How about it, Shirley? We’ll see Vegas like we’ve never seen it.”
Shirley nibbled on her bottom lip, a habit of nervousness. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Are we ready to go?”
“You bet.” Peyton motioned for Shirley to get in first. “You next, Dalton.”
He leaned over and brushed his lips lightly across her cheek. The slight caress was enough to make her tremble. “She’s with us for now, but later? Later, you’re all mine.” He slid onto the back seat and then scooted over for her to get in.
Unlike the previous night, she didn’t care for the spaciousness of the car. Instead, she would’ve preferred to be crammed in tighter. Even with Dalton’s bulk, she couldn’t get close enough. Then again, unless she sat on top of him, she’d never think she was close enough.
The trip to the helicopter section of the McCarran International Airport was filled by Shirley’s continued chatter. Dalton listened, nodding every so often, and throwing a glimpse at Peyton in between giving short answers. By the time they pulled into the parking area of the helicopter sightseeing company lot, she was sure he was ready to run for the hills.
Martin opened the door, letting Shirley out first. Shirley paused to gaze up at the muscular driver before finally moving away from the car.
After Martin had closed the door, Dalton twisted around to face Peyton. “She’s something else.”
“I’m sorry. Shirley can talk your ear off.”
“I was amazed she didn’t have to pause to take a breath.”
“Hey, don’t talk bad about my girl.”
“Then let’s not talk at all.”
The air whooshed out of her as his mouth met hers. His hand was firm, as demanding as his mouth was as he cupped her behind the neck and brought her close.
The kiss was more than a kiss. The kiss was a possession. A warning that he intended to take what he wanted whether or not she gave him permission or not. The kiss was a declaration that he was in control and she had no choice but to come along for the ride.
His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her as his moan drifted into her. His hand captured her breast, taking command of her mind and thrusting away any resistance she might have had left.
Her mind screamed at him, at first ordering him to spread her legs and use his mouth there then begging him. She clutched at him and moved her legs apart, hoping to tempt him.
“Hey, are you guys coming or what?” Shirley had opened the door.
Dalton pulled away from her and fell back against the seat.
“Oops. I guess it was ‘or what’ until I butted in. Take your time.” Shirley shot them an apologetic smile and closed the door.
“Are you sure she’s your best friend?” he asked.
Peyton understood his frustration. She’d had to bite back a few curses, too. “Not at the moment.”
He chuckled then opened the door and eased out. She waited, watching as he skirted around the back of the car and offered her help getting out. Although she enjoyed being pampered, she wasn’t used to it. How many men still opened car doors for their girlfriends?
Is that what I am? Hardly.
Is that what I want to be? Yes.
But what about Roman?
Selfishly, she got her answer. Can I have both of them?
She let him take her hand again as she scooted as gracefully as she could out of the car. A black helicopter rested on the tarmac. Shirley and Martin were talking with another man.
“What sightseeing company is this?”
“It’s not. I chartered a private chopper.”
“Mr. Valconai, everything’s ready whenever you are, sir.”
“Thanks, Rick. We’re all set.”
Again, he offered his hand to help Peyton as she went up the ladder and slipped onto a leather seat. Rick settled into the pilot’s chair in front of her, then shifted around to hand her a headset.
“Hey, Peyton, I’m going to hang around here, okay?”
“What?” She had to lean forward to see past Dalton as he climbed in. “Why?”
“You know I’m not big on flying,” answered Shirley.
“I don’t get it. You were talking nonstop about how exciting it would be.” She studied her friend but didn’t understand until Shirley tipped her head toward Martin. “Oh. Right. I forgot. You hate to fly.”
No one was buying Shirley’s lame excuse or Peyton’s bungled attempt to cover, but it didn’t matter. If Shirley had a thing for Martin, then great. Peyton wouldn’t feel as guilty for leaving her alone.
“Okay, then, we’re off. Martin, be sure to keep her entertained.” Dalton motioned for Peyton to buckle up then secured his own seatbelt.
“I sure will.”
It seemed Martin was as interested in Shirley as she was in him. Peyton waved to Shirley as her friend snagged the driver by the arm and headed back to the car.
Dalton showed her how to use the headset so they could communicate over the roar of the motor. She positioned it on her head and heard his voice coming in loud and clear.
“We’ll be flying straight down the Strip then over to the eastern mountains.”
She couldn’t decide which way to look first. Night had settled as they’d driven to the airport and the lights of the Vegas nightlife were out in full force. Every hotel from the Venetian to the MGM Grand vied for her attention. Advertisements for headliner shows gleamed as they boasted “the best entertainment in Vegas.” Images of celebrities and famous entertainers adorned billboards.
The helicopter swayed back and forth, rocking them as the pilot maneuvered it to the far end of the row of hotels, then did a large semi-circle and started back down the Strip.
“This is amazing.” Part of her wished Shirley was with her while another part was happy her friend had stayed behind.
“I’m glad you like it. Everyone should see the city from the sky.”
She held the headset against her ear to hear better. “Do you fly a lot?”
“More than you’d imagine.” He wrapped his arm around her. “If I could, I’d stay in the sky twenty-four-seven.”
She leaned against him, loving the strength emanating from his powerful body. The black shirt and jeans molded to his body, outlining every muscle. As incredible as the cityscape was, she kept glancing his way, her gaze lowering to his crotch whenever she dared.
Keep your eyes on the skies.
As Dalton had said it would, the chopper jetted down the main street of the Strip, drifting higher to show more of the outlying hotels. The mountains were dark, a black-purplish color, as the pilot turned the helicopter and flew east.
They were leaving Vegas behind, but she didn’t care. As long as she was next to Dalton, he could fly her to the moon.
Dalton motione
d to the mountains ahead of them. “See the caves?”
She had to search but finally saw the dark spots against the mountain. “I didn’t know there were any caves around here.”
“You’d be surprised at the secrets the desert holds.”
She looked into his eyes, trying to see whatever it was he wasn’t saying. He was mysterious, and yet she felt at ease with him, as though she could trust him to keep her world together even in the worst of times.
A flutter in the air beside the helicopter drew her attention. Was it air currents? Yet the harder she concentrated, the more she imagined she could see a distinct outline.
“Dalton, do you see what I see?”
“It depends on what—”
She glanced back at him and realized he was staring at the same place in the sky that she was. “You do, don’t you? It’s like something is there, but it isn’t.”
* * * *
Fuck you, Roman.
Dalton wished he could jump out of the helicopter, shift, and give his friend one hell of a body slam. Although he understood why Roman insisted on interrupting his dates with Peyton, it didn’t mean he wasn’t getting more and more irritated. Roman should’ve been waiting to watch her once he took her back to the hotel.
She saw something, all right. Roman, shielded by cloaking his dragon body, tilted to the left. The closer he flew to the helicopter, the more the outline of his body could be seen. If she looked at it much longer, she’d see what it was. Hell, she could probably feel the gusts of air coming from Roman’s wings.
Instead of shifting, he could initiate an “accident.” He wouldn’t hurt Roman, but he’d sure like to give him a good bruising. All it would take was one word to Rick and he’d have the helicopter swerving into Roman. But risking Peyton’s life wasn’t worth getting a lick in on his friend.
I’ll deal with you later, Roman.
He took her by the chin and forced her to look away. “Peyton, I’m taking you home.”
She shifted in her seat then tried to turn her head back toward Roman. He cupped her behind the neck and firmly held her.
“I’m taking you home.”
“Back to the hotel?”
“No.” He repeated it yet another time, making sure she understood him. “I’m taking you home.”
“Oh. Okay. Is it far?”
“No.” Keeping hold of her, he touched the button on his headset so he could speak directly to Rick without letting her hear him. “Rick, take us to my house.”
“Do you want me to give him a little nudge?”
Rick was a member of his clan and knew him well. “Not this time. We don’t want to send us both to the ground.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Thanks.” Pulling her as close as the seat belts would allow, he placed a light kiss on her cheek, his focus still on his irritating friend. Knowing Roman was watching, he shot him a one-finger wave.
A dragon’s chuckle, deep-throated, drifted on the air. Roman lifted one wing, his own way of flipping the bird, then soared higher into the night sky.
Chapter Seven
Peyton was certain she’d fallen into a deep coma and was dreaming. Did people in comas dream?
She turned around slowly, trying to take in Dalton’s spectacular home. Roman’s penthouse had been magnificent, but Dalton’s home in the middle of the Nevada desert was a palace. “This is beautiful.”
He shrugged as though she’d said she liked strawberries. “It’s comfortable. Hopefully, one day it’ll become a real home.”
“What is it now? A rental?”
Not for the first time, she wondered how his eyes could be so mesmerizing. Sure, their emerald color, a rich, dark green that reminded her of the moss on trees deep in a forest, was attractive, but it was more the sense of searching, of him exploring her on the inside that held the true power over her.
“No house is a home without a woman in it.”
“So you’ve never been married?” It wasn’t the question she’d really wanted to ask, but it was close enough. If he’d been married, then he’d been in love.
“No. I’ve never had any interest.”
She blinked as his intense stare grew even more compelling. Could he hypnotize her? She wouldn’t doubt he could. Didn’t he have her under his spell already?
“Would you like a drink?”
Her answer surprised her as much as it did him. “Take me to your bedroom.”
He strode toward her, took her hand firmly in hers, and started pulling her down one of the long hallways. They passed many rooms along the way, all beautifully decorated yet lacking any personal touches like family photos.
Her heart was in her throat making it difficult to speak. Yet it didn’t matter. He was a man on a mission, his aim to take her where she wanted to go.
Shoving through a grand set of double doors, he brought her into the bedroom. The massive room was filled with heavy, manly furniture with reds and golds brightening the dark woods. The bed, covered with a rich, heavy bedspread, was wide enough to hold six people with room to spare.
No doubt he’d brought other women into his bed. How would she compare? Was she brave enough to find out? Jealousy swamped her, bringing out a competitive nature she hadn’t known she possessed. She’d show him what she could do. She’d show him what it meant to make love and not have it be just sex.
This isn’t love.
Is it?
Like Roman, she barely knew him. And yet, like Roman, he had a quality, a presence that drew her to him. A basic unfilled need urged her to believe when she knew better. If hearts could connect in one moment, hers connected to his then and there.
The realization that she could want and love two men at the same time, two men she hadn’t known existed less than a week earlier stunned her. Her shock, however, was gone fast enough as exhilaration hit her.
She took a step toward the bed.
“No. Not the bed.”
Taking her along with him again, he pulled her through another set of massive doors and pushed them wide.
The en suite bathroom was all marble and mirrors. Done in any less than perfection, the room might’ve seemed gaudy, but that wasn’t the case. Soft lights gave the room an ambience of serenity while red candles promised a more sensual feeling with their flickers of light. Red rose petals dusted the marble floor and the tops of all the counters.
“What makes me think you had this planned all along? Not that I mind.”
“A man has to dream.”
He reached for a remote attached to the wall and hit a button. The low tones of a string quartet floated over them. He struck another button and the faucet in the huge marble tub turned on. Another button hit produced a stream of cream-colored liquid from a small spigot under the main faucet. The liquid mixed with the water, creating a mass of bubbles. Steam filled the large tub, the mist from the steam sparkling in the light of the many candles.
Dalton pulled her to him and started unbuttoning her simple shirt. “I want you.”
“I want you, too.”
Cupping her chin, he lifted her face to his. “You’re very important to me.”
“Important? How?”
“In many ways.” He caressed her lips, brushing them ever so lightly with his thumb.
He had her finely tuned to his touch, her body yearning for him to give her more touches, both light and firm. As he continued to undress her, she fought against the urge to press against him. A tremble rippled through her.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come here.”
His fingers traveled down the front of her blouse, pushing the material aside just enough to get a good look at what lay beneath. His eyes darkened, and his mouth parted, giving her a thrill to realize she’d had such a profound effect on him.
Bending, he placed a kiss on her shoulder and moved the blouse away. She let it fall to her elbows and then to the floor to join the rose petals at her feet.
“You’re beautiful.”
The words were simple, yet they meant the world to her. “I’m just an average girl from Ohio.”
“You’d never be an average anything.” His palms slid over her arms, giving rise to goosebumps. Reaching behind her, he unsnapped her bra.
She sucked in a breath as the lacy material fell away from her. Shyness threatened to take her, and she tried to cross her arms, but he wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he took her breasts in his hands and skimmed light kisses accompanied with stinging nips along her shoulder. Nibbling, he found the sensitive spot behind her earlobe and brought about another tremble.
“It’s okay, pretty one. You’re safe here, in my arms, where you belong.”
At times he sounded almost old-fashioned, and yet, his words were so romantic she yearned to hear more. “I’m not afraid.” Why should she be? She trusted him on an instinctual level.
“Good.”
His thumb circled her already taut nipple as the other hand dropped to undo her slacks. In short time, they lay at her feet, too. The warm mist drifted over her, setting dew along her skin. She imagined him sliding his tongue along her flesh, drinking up the moisture. Yet it was the moisture between her legs she ached for him to taste.
He stepped back, his fingers working on the buttons of his shirt. His gaze lowered to the small patch of panties covering her mons. “Did you wear those for me?”
If he was any other man—aside from Roman—she might have lied. Why let him know she’d been hoping to have sex? Yet something about the two men made lying difficult. “Yes. But don’t get conceited about it.”
He chuckled, the richness of his voice adding to her rising nervousness. Nervousness all stemming from anticipation. What would he be like? Would he remind her of Roman?
She couldn’t wait any longer. “Damn it, Dalton. Get undressed. I’m wet.”
The gleam in his eyes matched the slyness of his smile. “Wet? From the steam?”
“Yeah. That’s it. From the steam.” Her look, however, betrayed her.