Dylan (Dragon Hearts 4)

by Carole Mortimer

  King Arthur, for God’s sake. A man most historians believed hadn’t existed at all. There had been a King Arthur, way back in the fifth or sixth century, but it was doubtful it had been the same Arthur myth and legend referred to.

  As for his not being completely human… Dylan was the most immediately human man she had ever met. Her responses to him were proof of that.

  “You need to seek professional help, Dylan,” she said in her professional voice. “A specialist. Someone who can help you with your addiction.”

  Dylan remembered laughing when his brothers told him of their human mates’ reaction to hearing their family history. He didn’t find it in the least amusing when his own mate was now having the same reaction. Damn it, he hadn’t even gotten as far as telling Holly he was a dragon shifter. Or that she was his fated mate.

  “My brother Gabriel was killed in the same battle as Arthur,” he continued determinedly. “Rufus was killed by— He died in the nineteenth century.” He quickly omitted mentioning the subject of dragon shifters and dragon hunters just yet. “My brothers and I have been alive for sixteen hundred years—”

  “Okay, that really is enough, Dylan.” Green eyes flashed with anger. “I sympathize with your condition, I really do, but I can’t stay here and listen to this a moment longer—”

  “You will not leave, and you will listen to me!”

  Holly stared at him as she froze in place, momentarily stunned at the absolutely power she heard behind those words. Dylan no longer appeared to be just that dazzlingly attractive man she’d been drawn to from the beginning. He now seemed even taller and larger. His eyes were a deep and glowing blue, and he spoke as if he expected to be instantly obeyed.

  Parts of her wanted to obey. Her body still trembled with the deepening need to have Dylan make love to her.

  It was par for the course that the first time Holly had ever wanted a man this desperately, he turned out to be delusional as well as an alcoholic. Or, rather, because he was an alcoholic.

  She gave a self-derisive shake of her head. “That voice is a neat trick, but I don’t have time for this right— What are you doing?” She backed up against the edge of the couch as Dylan suddenly seemed to loom over her.

  He reached out to grasp hold of the tops of her arms and shake her. “You will listen to me, damn you.”

  Holly kept her gaze fixed on his on the basis experts advised it was best to look danger in the eye rather than show weakness by glancing away. Of course, those experts were usually referring to the danger of a rabid dog or a wild animal, of which Dylan was neither. But right now, Holly didn’t have any other defense.

  She moistened her dry lips before speaking. “You—” She broke off as the door to the suite was thrown open and yet another dark-haired Pendragon brother, one she hadn’t met yet, filled most of the doorway so that she could just catch a glimpse of Deryk standing in the hallway behind him.

  “Let her go, Dylan,” the dark-haired man instructed evenly.

  Dylan shot his brothers an impatient glare. “I’m not hurting her—”

  “All evidence to the contrary,” Deryk warned.

  “You are frightening her, at the very least.” The dark-haired Pendragon brother walked across the room until he stood only feet away. “Let her go, Dylan,” he repeated harshly.

  Holly had no idea how she knew this man was Grigor, the sixth brother Deryk and Izzy had told her wasn’t a pussycat. She just knew that this grim-faced and dark-eyed man who towered as tall and large as his brothers was wilder and even less controlled than the other brothers she’d met.

  Dylan released Holly so suddenly that she stumbled slightly, grateful when Grigor reached out to grasp her arm and help her regain her balance.

  “Take your fucking hand off her,” Dylan thundered. “Now!”

  To Holly’s surprise Grigor did exactly that, but instead of stepping away, he moved to stand in front of her.

  As if Grigor was protecting her from Dylan?

  Was Dylan really that out of control? As a doctor, she knew alcohol did strange things to some people, but it saddened her that Dylan was one of those people. He had so much going for him: his looks, his wealth, and his family. Why on earth would he allow alcohol to take him over in this way and ruin all that?

  “Step away, Dylan,” Grigor instructed quietly.

  Dylan sighed his impatience as he raised his gaze briefly toward the ceiling before narrowing that piercing gaze on his brother. “I am not out of control. I would never hurt Holly.” He made the two statements in a flat, even voice.

  “Is that why she looked terrified when we came in?” Deryk challenged as he stepped farther into the room.

  Dylan spared his brother a short glance. “Burst in,” he corrected.

  “We heard the compulsion in your voice all the way downstairs.”

  He nodded. “The only reason Holly looks so fucking terrified is because I was attempting to explain to her about Arthur.”

  “Ah.” Deryk grimaced.

  Grigor frowned. “I’m guessing it’s not going well?”

  Dylan gave a disgusted snort. “The master of the understatement.”

  Holly glanced from one brother to the other before shaking her head. “It really isn’t healthy for the two of you to feed his delusion.”

  Dylan raised one dark eyebrow in his brothers’ direction. “Would one of you like to tell her, or shall I continue?”

  Deryk gave him a slap on the back before returning to the open doorway. “I’m happy to leave it to you.”

  “Me too.” Grigor joined Deryk. “Just try to keep the noise down, hm?”

  Holly gaped at them. “Do the two of you intend to just leave me here with him?”

  “You’ll thank us for it later,” Deryk assured her enigmatically.

  Grigor nodded. “It’s for the best.”

  “I expect it’s a bit like what humans say about ‘ripping off a plaster,’” Deryk told Dylan mildly. “Best to just get it over with as quickly as possible and then deal with the screams.” He closed the door softly behind him as they left.

  Holly couldn’t believe these two men were just leaving her here with a man who was quite obviously unbalanced.

  And what did Deryk mean by it’s what humans say?

  Dylan almost laughed at the look of incredulity on Holly’s face after his brothers’ hurried departure. Almost. Because there was nothing in the least amusing about this situation. Nor did he like the fear he could still see in Holly’s gaze as she eyed him warily. Her face was also very pale.

  He gave a deep sigh. “So which would you prefer? The ripping off of the plaster—whatever that means? Or shall I continue to tell you slowly so as to give you a chance to absorb exactly what I’m saying?”

  She released a shaky breath. “Rip off the plaster.”

  He’d known that would be her choice. He already knew from Holly’s reason for being here what a fighter his mate was. That she would face any problem head-on rather than try to avoid it. “Sit down first.”

  She arched a rueful brow. “Is that going to help?”

  “It will prevent you from hurting yourself if you should fall,” he drawled.

  Holly perched on the edge of the couch, obviously ready to make a mad dash for the door if she felt it necessary.

  As if Dylan’s preternatural speed would even allow her to reach the door.

  Holly was his to protect now, whether she chose to mate with him or not.

  Chapter 7

  Holly felt as if she had entered a parallel universe as Dylan told her he had been born sixteen hundred years ago and repeated that one of his brothers had been King Arthur. That the eight suits of armor in the entrance hall of the castle belonged to the remaining Pendragon brothers, and it was Dylan and his other nine brothers who had been Arthur’s personal army, not the Knights of the Round Table, as legend claimed.

  The fact that she almost laughed when Dylan told her the table hadn’t even been round but rectangular
was a testament to how surreal she was finding all this. Or, more likely, that hysteria was becoming her primary emotion.

  As for the invisible island of Annwn, situated off the Welsh coast, where Dylan claimed he and his brothers had been born to ten Welsh goddesses and fathered by Uther Pendragon…

  Uther Pendragon had been real and was recorded in history. But, as far as Holly was aware, there had certainly been no mention of his having fathered eleven sons, one of them Arthur. That part of Arthur’s legend was all due to the romance of Hollywood, a romantic notion to add color to the movies.

  Holly rose back to her feet. “Well, thank you for sharing all this with me. It’s all very interesting.” She gave him an insincere smile.

  “I haven’t finished yet,” he said wryly.

  She began to edge her way toward the door. “I’m feeling a little tired after my drive here, so I think I’ll go to bed now. You can tell me the rest of this tomorrow.” Hah, as if she was going to be here tomorrow! She intended to wait in her suite only long enough to be sure the household was all asleep before getting in her car and leaving.

  Thank God she hadn’t actually told Dylan where she lived. With any luck—

  “My brothers and I are all dragon shifters.”

  Dylan’s latest statement didn’t seem so off-the-wall after the nonsense he’d already told her. Which definitely proved hysteria was taking over. “Well, of course you are.” She gave him another one of those placating smiles.

  Another couple of steps and she would have reached the door—

  Holly reared back as Dylan suddenly appeared between her and that door. “How did you do that?” A second ago, he’d been standing across the room, and now he was blocking her from making her escape.

  He shrugged those impossibly wide shoulders. “Dragon shifters have preternatural speed. Amongst other things,” he added enigmatically.

  “What does that even mean?” Holly snapped her impatience with this nonsense. “That you and your brothers can all turn yourselves into dragons?” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “Well, not in here,” he conceded. “There isn’t enough room,” he added dryly. “And we call it shifting rather than turning.”

  She huffed. “I’m really sorry you’re so ill, but I have no intention of endorsing your brothers’ tolerance of your wild imaginings. Nor do I appreciate them leaving me in here alone with you when you are obviously mentally disturbed and should be admitted to a clinic for treatment.”

  “I really didn’t want to do it this way,” Dylan stated grimly before holding up his hands.

  Holly gave a strangled gasp when she saw the long black talons that had pierced and now curled lethally from the tops of his fingers.

  Dragon’s talons?

  No, it had to be a trick of some kind. Dragons didn’t exist, were as much a part of myth and legend as—

  As King Arthur?

  “I was flying as my dragon the night I was brought into the hospital.” Dylan decided to forge ahead with the truth while Holly was still stunned by the sight of his talons. “Then everything suddenly went black, and I fell from the sky.”

  “You fell from the sky,” she repeated through stiff lips. “Because you were flying as a dragon.”

  “As my dragon,” he corrected smoothly.

  Some of the shock was starting to leave her expression. “If you had fallen from the sky as a dragon or anything else, you would have broken every bone in your body.”

  “And my dragon would have healed them.”

  Holly closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. “You were fully dressed, didn’t have a scratch on you, and were completely human when you were brought into the hospital.”

  “As I shift fully dressed, I’m always dressed the same when I return to my human form, and my dragon would have healed any injuries long before any human found me,” Dylan added.

  She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. It wasn’t surreal, it was bloody madness! “How are these things attached?” She grabbed one of his hands, turning it from side to side to see how those talons were fixed to the ends of his fingers. However Dylan was doing this, it was very clever, because she couldn’t see an attachment anywhere.

  But neither did she believe they were real. That Dylan was really a dragon shifter. She really would be in a parallel universe if that was true.

  “I know all this is difficult for you to believe,” Dylan soothed. “But I assure you, it’s the truth.” His other hand moved to stroke her cheek.

  A hand that was now free of talons, Holly noted a little numbly as she released his other hand.

  Or, perhaps not so numbly.

  The caress of Dylan’s hand against her cheek brought back a return of the desire that had consumed her ever since she saw him again.

  Was that only a few hours ago? It seemed so much longer!

  Nor was it a desire, considering his delusional state, she could in all good conscience allow herself to act upon.

  She leaned away from that caressing hand, able to breathe a little easier now that Dylan was no longer touching her. “It’s your truth,” she acknowledged. “Fortunately, I’m completely sane, so—”

  “You’re my fated mate.”

  Holly wished he would stop making these ridiculous statements. Statements so ludicrous, she felt compelled to refute them. “I don’t know what that means either,” she bit out. “Nor do I want to know,” she continued as he would have spoken. “I’m going to my room to collect my things, and then I’m leaving. And you are going to let me,” she added firmly.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said quietly. “Nor do you really want me to.”

  “I just said—”

  “I know what you said, Holly.” He stepped nearer, so close she was aware of every inch of his muscular body, the warmth of his breath ruffling the hair at her temple as he leaned closer still. “You kissed me earlier, and now we can’t be apart without causing both of us extreme discomfort, even pain. Something I cannot allow where my mate is concerned.”

  For the moment, Holly chose to ignore the arrogance of that last statement. “What sort of discomfort?” She was in discomfort now. Very aroused. She had been so since Dylan touched her cheek. Her nipples were once again a tormenting ache. Her stomach churned. Her core burned and throbbed, and she was trembling all over.

  “The same physical discomfort you’re suffering now, but tenfold,” he said softly.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “How do you know— Don’t tell me, your dragon senses told you!” she snapped angrily.

  “Partly,” Dylan conceded. “But also because the moment you kissed me on the beach earlier, the mating heat began. When a dragon shifter meets its mate, he produces an aphrodisiac in his saliva—”

  “Eww.”

  “It isn’t as nasty as it sounds.” He gave a slight smile at her disgusted expression. “But because you’re my mate, that single kiss on the beach means some of that aphrodisiac has now entered your bloodstream. It causes extreme arousal, and I don’t need my preternatural vision to see your nipples are now so hard, they’re pressing against your bra and blouse. You’re also wet between your thighs, and it’s making my mouth water for a taste of honeysuckle and ripe peaches.”

  Holly gasped. “Honeysuckle and ripe peaches?”

  He nodded. “It’s your unique smell—”

  “I do not smell!” She glared. “Damn it, I took a bath earlier.”

  “Aroma, then,” he corrected gruffly. “It’s delicious, and it intensifies when you’re aroused.”

  Holly’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire. “How long have you known I’m…I’m your mate?”

  “Since the moment I met you. I just had a few things I needed to sort out before I could claim you,” he added as she frowned.

  “Such as?”

  “Why I blacked out in the first place. It’s never happened before, and the fact that it hasn’t happened since but did so again when you arrived here
tells me that the two, your presence and the blackouts, are connected. That the surge of the mating aphrodisiac I found in my bloodstream is the probable cause. I’ll know more once I’ve tested my blood from today.”

  She gave an impatient shake of her head. “I’m not going to stay here and listen to any more of these incredulous ramblings from a man who is obviously not completely sane.”

  He gave a hard smile. “Sane or not, you want me.”

  “I do not—” Her words were cut off by Dylan’s mouth claiming hers.

  There was nothing in the least gentle about his kiss as his lips and tongue took and claimed, his arms holding her tightly against him.

  Holly was barely aware of dropping her bag to the floor before her arms came up to grasp his shoulders. Muscles flexed beneath her palms, the hardness of Dylan’s chest crushing but also easing the ache in her breasts as he kissed her long and deeply.

  Finally, Dylan’s lips moved to her jaw and down her throat, causing quivers of pleasure down the length of Holly’s spine before centering at her core. “You want this, Holly. You want me.”

  She did want him. The unexpected climax in the bath earlier was nothing compared to the desire that now raged through her and held her completely in its thrall. In Dylan’s thrall.

  “Tell me.” His teeth gently bit down the length of her throat, his breath a hot caress. “Tell me how much you want me to suck and fuck you.”

  Wanting him in that way and actually voicing that want were two different things. Holly couldn’t—

  She let out a low groan as the heat of Dylan’s hands moved beneath her sweater to cup her breasts. He watched her through narrowed lids as the soft pad of his thumbs stroking unerringly across the turgid nipples.

  “I can ease this ache,” he promised gruffly. “If you’ll let me.”

  “I don’t— I can’t—”

  “You can. Tell me you want me,” he encouraged fiercely. “Say it!”

  This was wrong, on so many levels. Not least because Dylan believed himself to be sixteen hundred years old, King Arthur’s brother, and that he could turn—shift—into a dragon at will.