Romance: Tall, Dark And Dragon: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Paranormal, Dragon Shifter Romance) (BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Series By Ashley Hunter)

by Hunter, Ashley

  Tall, Dark And Dragon

  Ashley Hunter

   Copyright 2015 by Ashley Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced

  in any way whatsoever, without written permission

  from the author, except in case of brief

  quotations embodied in critical reviews

  and articles.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

  person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  First edition, 2015

  Chapter 1

  Abigail grunted a huff of air as she planted her mountain boot on a stone and pushed herself up. They’d been backpacking for three days now, and she was not grateful for the inclined grade.

  She and her friends had gone out to enjoy some time away from it all. There was nothing so freeing as surviving off of only what you could carry. It was to be a five day trip, and by now the group was headed back toward the parking lot where their cars waited.

  After two days hiking up the side of the mountain, they’d finally looped around. For the most part it would be downhill hiking, giving their climbing muscles a break. This section, however, tipped up for a few dozen yards before it headed back down.

  “You okay, Abby?” her friend Rachel asked from ahead of her.

  The concern was sweet, but the use of that obnoxious short-hand of her name made Abigail grunt again as she grabbed onto a stone and pulled herself forward.

  “I’m fine. Just wearing out.”

  Rachel stopped for a moment, her foot propped on a small stone outcropping. In that stance, with her curly brown hair playing in the light breeze, she looked like something out of a postcard. The fact that Rachel probably knew it too made Abigail laugh.

  “It evens out up ahead, looks like. We can stop for some water and catch our breath before heading back down.”

  “Don’t stop for me,” Abigail said, struggling to climb up the path.

  When first discussing this trip, there had never been any mention of a mountain. Abigail wasn’t in the best shape, but she could walk. All of a sudden the promise of a nice adventure away from the city turned into a mountain climbing hell.

  The scenery was beautiful, no denying, but Abigail had never been more tired in her life. Legs burning, mind foggy from exhaustion, all she could do was perform mental exercises to keep from being angry with her friends.

  They were all beautiful and naturally in shape. Not like her. Concerns about distance and effort just didn’t occur to them. It wasn’t that they lied, they just didn’t think of whether it’d be hard for her or not.

  Rachel had turned and continued up, following her best friend Claire. It was no mistake or mystery that Abigail pulled up the rear, trailing behind with every step.

  The two easily made it over a series of rocks jutting out from the mountainside and into the path. It was such a minor thing for them, but when Abigail saw it, she blew out air from her lips.

  By the time she reached the rocks, Rachel and Claire were already at the plateau catching their breath. She was almost there, and this didn’t look too hard. It was just more energy than she had to expend at the moment.

  Few options, she sucked it up and braced her foot against a stone, and then grabbed a hold of the neighboring boulder to pull herself over.

  The stone she held onto slipped, causing her weight to shift and her boot lost its purchase. Abigail screamed in surprise as she latched onto the stone with both hands.

  This drew the attention of her friends. They shouted her name as they dropped their packs, but Abigail’s grip was already slipping, the stone leaving blood strips along her fingers.

  “Abby!” Rachel shouted as she hit the rock and reached out to her.

  When Abigail reached up to take Rachel’s hand, she lost grip with her other and tipped. It was the slightest movement, but deep inside where her mind instinctively understood weight, balance, and momentum, she knew that it was an inch too far.

  It must’ve shown on her face, because Rachel’s eyes flew wide.

  Her friend’s scream disappeared behind her as the world rolled. For a moment Abigail fretted how far down the path she’d go, but then the ground disappeared entirely and she realized she’d fallen off the mountain.

  Sky passed in a flash, then the mountainside, then sky again. Something heavy crashed into her back, sending her into a vicious spin that made her vision go black. Arms and legs flailed about her entirely out of her control.

  This is it, she thought, this is how I die.

  She didn’t even feel the impact before blacking out.

  Chapter 2

  When her eyes opened again it was to blinding sunlight, the taste of rotten garbage in her mouth, and the feeling of her entire body weighed down by molten lead. Oddly, it was the scent of some strange fabric softener that made her realize she wasn’t home.

  The scuffing of chair legs across the floor caught her attention and she looked over to see a bald older man with thin, round-framed glasses and a white mustache had been sitting beside her bed.

  He now stood, smiled to her, and left the room.

  As she watched him leave, she realized how huge and lavish the room was. Silk curtains that seemed to go to the sky, huge pillars made of marble, and even her four-post bed was enormous.

  Was this a castle? She had to be dreaming, still!

  The bald man returned, walking behind him the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. A face like that, she knew she was dreaming!

  The crisp suit he wore moved with each of his well-muscled limbs as though it wasn’t a garment but a part of his body. He had an easy smile revealing perfect teeth and a charming squint to his eyes every time he did so.

  “You’re awake,” he said as he reached her bed.

  “Am I?”

  The man gave a short laugh and sat in the chair the older one had been in.

  “You are in my home. I had been out camping when you fell from the sky like an angel. I imagine the backpack you were wearing had kept your wings in, because you took a nasty spill. I had you helicoptered out.”

  “What?” she asked, horrified.

  There was no memory of it, and to hear him tell it was like she was listening to a story about someone else.

  “You were in the hospital for a few days, and after they said you were safe to move, I brought you here. You had no identification on you. The name Abigail was written on your pack. Does this sound familiar?”

  Did it?

  She tried to think, but couldn’t answer a question as simple as what her name was. That was when she realized she couldn’t remember anything. Panic rose up in her throat and she suddenly found herself unable to catch her breath.

  The handsome man jumped from his seat and poured a glass of water for her so quickly that it spilled over the rim and splashed on the glass top of the nightstand.

  Abigail took the water in both hands, her left hand wrapped in bandages. When she saw it, she screamed.

  Forgetting the water, she lifted the blankets and saw her body was a series of white wraps and bandages, some red with blood. Her blood. She realized the sensation of going numb as it happened, but could do nothing about it.

  The next thing she knew, her eyelids were fluttering open as someone gently patted the side of her face.
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br />   “Abigail,” the man whispered, “Abigail.”

  Unable to put much strength into it, she weakly batted at his hand and shook her head. Taking her hand, he pushed the cup of water to her palm. Rediscovering her thirst, she brought the glass to her mouth and drank, spilling some down the front of her.

  “I’m sorry, I was going to get to that part,” he said and sat back down in the chair.

  “Am I… I mean, can I…?”

  “Walk?” he asked, hoping to finish her question.

  When she nodded, he gave his head a tilt.

  “I will say yes, there has been no damage to your spine. You have the cushion of your pack to thank for that. But you can’t right now. You broke your leg, you see.”

  “That along with various other internal injuries, I’m afraid you’re bedridden for at least two weeks. After that, we’ll start exercising, having you walk around the grounds. When you’re well enough, you’re free to return home. Assuming, your memory has returned by then.”

  “Assuming,” she said absently and looked under the covers again.

  The shock returned, but was far blunter. What happened that could’ve caused this? “You said I fell?”

  He nodded. “Off the side of a mountain.”

  “And no one was looking for me?”

  He cleared his throat and fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt. “Not that we found. Our first concern was getting you to a hospital. Once you were stabilized, we returned to the grounds, but no one knew anything.”

  “We put the word out which hospital you were in, but no one came. Without an identity or insurance, the care you were to receive was to be…” he stretched his neck out, a sign of how irritated he was, “…sub-par, shall we say. So I brought you here.”

  “Thank you,” she said, sipping the water.

  At a sudden realization, she almost choked.

  “I don’t know your name! I’m so sorry, here I am freaking out about me and I—“

  He rose from the seat again, putting out his hand to stop her worrying. “It’s quite all right. It’s quite all right, I assure you. A lot has happened. I took no offense.”

  “You’re in my home, and you’re going to be staying with me until you’re well. I assumed we’d get around to the topic of my name eventually.”

  The way he said it, with such a silly little smile made her laugh.

  “I’m Toby,” he said, pressing his palm to his chest.

  “Abigail, I suppose,” she said and held out her hand.

  Toby took her hand and kissed the top of her fingers softly. “I’m most pleased to meet you, Abigail.”

  Then he looked around and tucked in the covers around her and said, “You’ve had a tiring day. Why not rest and see if you can get more sleep. I’ll have some food sent up. If you’re hungry, wonderful. If not, have not a care for it. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

  When he’d first suggested she try to sleep again she thought it ridiculous. However, once he was gone and the excitement of the moment subsided, she found her mind fog over and her eyes turn to stone.

  The next couple of days were a blur of sleeping, eating, and visits from Toby. Now that she was awake and aware of her circumstances, her sleeping hours were haunted by nightmares.

  Despite the expectation that they would be of falling or some horrible calamity, she actually had no recollection of it. A story told to her of what happened did nothing to fuel her mind.

  No, instead it was something far more tangible: no one cared. All this time, and no one asked about her? Looked for her? Was she so terrible of a person that she was unlovable?

  As she spent the days in her bed, in the hours that Toby couldn’t be by her side, her mind drifted inward. She didn’t feel like a terrible person. Then again, what did she know of it? She couldn’t remember who she was.

  During one such episode, the bald mustached man – who she soon learned was named Blair – approached her bedside.

  “The madam is in pain?”

  The medication they gave her was amazing. It interfered with her fine motor functions, but she couldn’t feel anything at all. All in all, a fair trade off. Yet when she shook her head at him, he just smiled.

  Slowly so he didn’t scare her, he reached forward and touched a fingertip to her cheek, picking up a teardrop.

  “The madam is in pain.”

  Unable to stop the frown, she resigned to a small nod. “I’m afraid I’m alone.”

  Blair gave her a grandfatherly smile and took up her hand in his.

  “Madam isn’t alone. Sir cares greatly.”

  “Toby?” she asked, realizing she’d never heard him speak about Toby before.

  “He’s a very nice man, and compassionate, but he doesn’t care for me.”

  “No, Sir cares greatly indeed. Madam cannot go outside yet, but requires a distraction from her pain.”

  Then he held up a finger and winked before leaving the room. Abigail swallowed her tears and watched him go.

  What did he mean Toby cared for her? He didn’t even know her.

  Sometime later, Blair and a number of other servants entered her room with two tables, chairs, and an array of snack food.

  One table they set against the wall and those carrying the food arranged it there. The other table was placed by Abigail’s bed, the chairs arranged around it.

  “What’s going on?” Abigail asked, amused by what was happening.

  “Madam requires a distraction from her pain. We are to provide.”

  One of the other servants came forward with a pack of playing cards and emptied the package into his hand.

  “Do you know how to play poker?”

  Abigail shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s find out,” he said with a smile and took up a seat. Blair left, the other three servants, a man and two women, took up seats around the table.

  Over the course of the next couple of hours, Abigail discovered she was absolutely terrible at poker. They used the food to bet with.

  Each hand, they would give her tips on how to tell who was bluffing, or when someone was nervous or anxious. Certain signs were when someone got excited. This could mean they had a good hand, or that they were enjoying the fact they were successfully bluffing.

  As the days went on, Abigail began feeling better. Recovery was slow, but she started worrying less about the life she lost, and focused more on the life she now lived. Poker with the servants was fun, and Toby joined in when he could.

  For the most, part he came whenever she needed her dressings changed, or any other form of care. When she was sleeping or well, he came by when he could, but had to do his work.

  No matter how she asked, he never said what exactly it was he did. The place was obviously a mansion, and with so many people employed under him, he had to be terribly rich.

  Chapter 3

  The days turned to weeks, and the worse of her injuries were manageable. It took some physical therapy for her to be able to move. They took it slow at first, keeping the walks light and short. As time went on, she became stronger. The walks grew longer, her body more sure of itself.

  They still played poker every day, and she was feeling pretty confident in her ability to ready Toby. The servants were all fairly good at hiding their bluffs, only unconsciously revealing the occasional tell, but the more she played with Toby, the more she was able to pick up on his movements.

  A small smile, the quirk of an eyebrow. It was even easier to become caught up in staring at him. Every day when she saw him smiling at her, she realized she’d been just gazing at his features for who knew how long.

  It was embarrassing at first, until she realized that he always waited a second too long to look back down at his cards. His smile grew just a little wider. If he was uncomfortable about the way she looked at him, he never did anything to show it.

  They continued to walk around the house. As she healed, they kept it indoors for now. At first that had sounded boring, that she would q
uickly grow tired of staying inside the house, but the mansion was so huge, she never did.

  Room after room had beautiful art or antique furniture, and that was just the downstairs. It was three stories high, but with her leg slowly healing, repeated stairclimbing wasn’t recommended yet.

  Chandeliers hung from overhead, marble tiles along the entryways and halls. It was the most beautiful house she could imagine.

  Once she was well enough, Toby took her for walks outside. The mansion grounds were a garden for acres and acres. Hedges, rosebushes, fountains all arranged in beautiful harmony. There was a shallow wading pool that stretched out like a football field.

  As she and Toby walked, he told her about himself, where he came from. They talked about his childhood, and how he came to own the house. He hoped that by hearing his memories, it might spark some of her own.

  It never did though.

  Strangely, Abigail didn’t mind. She loved hearing him speak, and they had many long conversations in the gardens. That was when Abigail came to realize she had fallen in love with him.

  But could he ever love her back?

  She was a shell of a person. No memory, a broken body. How could he love someone that had nothing?

  She would get her answer.

  Chapter 4

  That night the five of them played poker. As the game went on, Abigail kept an eye on Toby, watching him for his tells. As it grew late in the evening, the servants bowed out one at a time as their betting pools ran out.

  Soon it was just Toby and Abigail.

  Just when he started putting the cards away, Abigail said, “Deal one more hand.”

  Toby looked toward the door instinctively and then back to her.

  “Are you sure? It’s just us and there really isn’t too much food left.”

  “We’re not betting food.”

  This drew a smile from him, and he shuffled.

  “We’re not, huh? Well I know you don’t have any money.”