Dragon's Nanny: A Paranormal Romance (West Coast Water Dragons Book 1)

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Dragon's Nanny: A Paranormal Romance (West Coast Water Dragons Book 1) Page 6

by Kayla Wolf


  ”Thanks to you,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand. “Who knows how long I’d have been out there if you hadn’t found me?” But she pulled away from his touch, her eyes dark, and he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  ”We should—talk about what happened last night.”

  ”What about it?” He could feel his heart pounding again—but this time the adrenalin coursing through his body had nothing to do with the fight.

  ”It can’t happen again,” she said simply, and the cold look in her silver eyes sent pain shooting through his chest.

  ”Why not?” he asked. A stupid question, maybe—but the blood loss was making him dizzy, still, and the memory of the kiss was just too good to let go that quickly.

  ”Because—you’re my boss. This is a professional relationship. It can’t get personal. Not like that. It wouldn’t be fair to Delilah—it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. What if something went wrong? What if we realized it wouldn’t work? I’d have to leave. And I can’t do that to Delilah. Not after—”

  ”Not after her mother,” Lachlan said, his heart sinking into the bottom of his chest. She was right. No matter how badly he wanted her to be wrong, she was right. Delilah adored Serena. The thought of taking that away from her… it was too much to bear. “You’re right. I just…”

  ”It’s for the best,” Serena said quickly, cutting him off. “Look—I better go get Delilah back from Bryce before she gets too used to being eight feet tall.”

  ”Serena—“

  ”I’ll see you later,” she said, and almost ran from the room. He stared at the ceiling for a minute, feeling sick to his stomach—then there was a soft cough from the doorway.

  ”Heard you got beaten up by a bunch of wolves.” James, his eyes dancing with amusement. Lachlan gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure he could handle James’s particular sense of humor right now. “You okay, dude?”

  ”Getting there,” he said.

  “Why’d Serena go running off like that? Did you break her heart?”

  He rolled his eyes, a little stung by how close to the bone that offhand comment was. Sometimes he suspected James saw a bit more of the truth in situations than he let on… even if he technically had the situation around the wrong way. He was frustratingly observant. A little like his little sister, actually. “It’s not like that.”

  ”Good,” James said frankly. “All of that romance stuff… it’s fun, but it’s a waste of time, you know? A guy like you has more important things to worry about than women.”

  ”You spend every weekend of your life chasing women.”

  ”Exactly. So I should know how pointless it all is.” James grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little at his friend’s cocksure demeanor. “Love, romance, sex… it’s fun in the short term, but guys like us have better things to do than chasing long-term relationships, you know?”

  ”Maybe you’re right,” Lachlan sighed, giving in a little. If James asked him about it later, he’d just say it had been the blood loss talking. “Isn’t that kind of lonely, though?”

  James laughed. “Why would I be lonely? I’ve got all of you guys, don’t I? That’s more company than I know what to do with.”

  He had a point, Lachlan supposed, thinking of Serena. Their relationship as it stood was great—she helped him care for Delilah, kept him company sometimes… why would he need more from her than that? But no matter how hard he tried to adopt James’s callous attitude to the situation, some part of him just wouldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to kiss her. How it had felt to sit with her and Delilah in the forest, for all the world like they were a little family of their own.

  Was it so wrong to want something like that, really?

  Chapter 10 – Serena

  Serena was braced for a confrontation when Lachlan came home the next day, his wounds all healed. A treacherous part of her was even hoping that he’d argue with her—that he’d come in and insist that they could be together, that their relationship could survive the treacherous waters of navigating her professional commitment to his daughter and her personal interest in him. But to her mingled dismay and relief, when Lachlan came home, things went back to the way they had been before he’d kissed her. He didn’t even bring up the conversation they’d had—he’d just come into the house, given her a friendly—if cursory—little nod, then headed into his bedroom to put away the change of clothes she’d brought him at Alice’s surgery, the closest thing the settlement had to a hospital.

  And so they fell back into a routine. If there was a strain in the way they related to one another, it wasn’t too bad. It was easy enough for Serena to focus on her work, to dedicate all the time she’d have spent stressing about Lachlan to helping Delilah thrive and grow. The little girl was learning so much every day—she was so clever, so bright, always wanting to find out what a new word meant or to explore some new concept. They went on lots of walks together, exploring the peninsula and the beautiful nature it held.

  And Lachlan was under a lot of pressure with construction as well as the heightened security in the settlement. Serena offered to help out by taking over the weekly grocery shopping—it was a convoluted affair that involved a two-hour round trip to the nearest supermarket on the mainland, and Lachlan was so tired he kept forgetting important ingredients, so it was easy enough for Serena to take it over. She often took Delilah with her on these outings—the little girl loved to sit up in her booster seat, peering out of the window and shouting at all the trees that flew past. Sometimes she’d fall asleep on the ride home, tuckered out from sprinting up and down the aisles of the grocery store, but most days she’d sit up bright and cheery, listening to the CD with children’s music that Lachlan kept in his car for long drives with his daughter.

  And if Serena spent her evenings lost in deeply troubling but deeply pleasant dreams in which she did everything she was forcing herself not to thinking about doing with Lachlan… well, that was nobody’s business but her own.

  It had been three weeks since they’d kissed when she found herself at the grocery store with Delilah again. The little girl was absolutely delighted with the cereal aisle—for some reason, she enjoyed perusing the boxes, pretending to read the backs of them and make informed decisions. It was a game that could last hours, but Serena found it so deeply charming that she couldn’t help but indulge her—as a result, they’d had a different kind of breakfast cereal every week for the last three, and Lachlan was beginning to get exasperated with their choices.

  ”All Bran? Really, Lilah?” Serena said while Delilah was immersed in her work.

  Delilah gave her the kind of look a librarian might give a too-loud student and returned to her scrutiny of the box. Serena couldn’t help but laugh. Her eyes might have been her mother’s, but that expression was her father’s, well and truly.

  ”She’s a cutie.”

  Serena glanced up. It wasn’t uncommon for strangers to strike up conversations with her—it was a small enough town that a newcomer like her was worth talking to. She assumed this man was doing the same thing. He was taller than her, wiry, and she blinked in surprise, registering the slightly unusual occurrence of running into a fellow redhead. He was also wearing an enormous pair of sunglasses.

  ”Yeah, she is,” Serena agreed, smiling at him. Complimenting her adorable charge was a good way of getting on her good side. “She loves cereal boxes. No idea why.”

  ”Is she yours?”

  She blinked. It was an odd question to ask—most people just assumed Delilah was Serena’s daughter without asking such a blunt question, and she’d usually be the one to explain that she was her nanny and not her mom. “Uh, no, actually, I’m her nanny.”

  ”Thought so. No family resemblance.”

  She wrinkled her nose, distracted a little from what the guy was saying by the strong scent of his cologne. It was as though he’d bathed in it instead of just applying a spritz of it. What was he trying to cover up—the scent of a murder?
r />   “Anyway, we’d better get going—”

  ”Why don’t you stick around? Have a drink with me?”

  She looked at him, feeling a chill run down her spine despite the warm air in the grocery store. He was old enough to be her father, from what she could see under those ridiculous glasses—not a bad looking guy, exactly, but definitely not her type, even if it had been at all appropriate to ask out a woman who was clearly caring for a toddler. “Uh, no, thanks. I’m at work.”

  ”Another time, then. Give me your number.”

  ”No, thank you, I’m good,” she said firmly. “C’mon, Lilah, time to go.”

  The toddler protested as Serena scooped her into her arms, her little hands grasping for the cereal boxes. Serena carried her straight out of the store—she could feel the guy’s eyes on her and was deeply worried that he was going to try to follow them out into the parking lot. She jumped into Lachlan’s car and started the engine—they were halfway home, Delilah still sulking about the interruption to her cereal box ritual, when Serena realized she hadn’t brought her groceries. She heaved a sigh, thinking through what was in the fridge. They’d just have to make do for tonight, and she’d head back to the grocery store tomorrow. Hopefully by then, the gross guy would be out of there, and she could actually get her shopping done.

  She told the story that night as they were sitting at the table, trying to make it a light, amusing story about her own forgetfulness—but Lachlan wasn’t having any of that. The minute she mentioned the guy in the store, he frowned, putting his book down.

  ”You didn’t know him and he just—came up to you both and started asking you about Delilah?”

  ”Yeah. It was pretty weird—but not that weird. I mean, a lot of women have talked to me before. Small town, you know? They’re curious. But yeah, this guy… kind of gave me the creeps.”

  ”I’m not surprised,” Lachlan said, frowning. “He sounds like a creep, going up to women and—he asked you to have a drink with him? Seriously? In the middle of the afternoon?”

  ”Yeah! And I’d just told him I was Delilah’s nanny—I was basically at work. God, I’m only just now getting angry.”

  ”If I’d have been there I’d have knocked him out,” Lachlan said, voice low and intense, and she tried to ignore the flush of pleasure she felt at how protective he was being. It was Delilah, she told herself irritably, trying to flatten the feelings that were trying to rear their ugly heads again. He was being protective of Delilah—of his daughter who was now soundly asleep upstairs, not of her.

  “If you’d have been there he probably wouldn’t have tried it,” Serena said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Men like that only respect women if they think another man owns them already. They respect property more than they respect… you know, personhood.”

  ”Delilah’s never allowed to date,” Lachlan said firmly. “No men allowed. Not until she’s thirty and has at least six black belts.”

  ”Good rule,” Serena said drily, resisting the urge to laugh. “And how long do you think it’ll be before she gets a crush on some boy and decides that it’s all the more exciting and important because it’s forbidden?”

  Lachlan hesitated, and she realized what she’d said—how uncomfortably close it was to the situation they were in, the problem between them that they weren’t talking about. She’d gotten perilously close to violating the Don’t Talk About It rule. A blush rose to her cheeks, and she rose abruptly to her feet, muttering some excuse about getting a glass of water—but before she could get past him, Lachlan reached out and grabbed her wrist. She hardly dared to meet his eyes—she could feel his gaze on her, sense the intensity of it, burning into her skin. Don’t look at him, Serena … you can still get out of this… fight it—

  ”If he ever comes near you again,” Lachlan said, his voice low and intense, “you let me know. Okay?”

  She took a deep breath. Her skin was burning where he was touching it, her mind was racing with desire, and she was dangerously, dangerously close to throwing herself into his arms and to hell with the consequences. “I have to go back to the store tomorrow.”

  ”I’ll come with you,” he said. “It’s my day off. We’ll go together.”

  ”Okay,” she said softly. He was still holding her wrist. Did he know he was doing that? Did he have any idea how hard he was making it for her to walk away from him? She realized he was getting to his feet. Then he released her wrist—but it was too late. She was frozen to the spot, staring up at him, her mind screaming at her to get out of his space but her body too desperate for his closeness to obey. And when she looked into his eyes, she could see that he was struggling with exactly the same problem—the same war between reason and desire, the need to touch her fighting with the need to keep his distance, to be professional.

  Well, he’d broken the rule once before. It was only fair that she take her turn.

  He groaned when she kissed him—she felt him almost shudder as their lips touched, the heat of his body against hers overwhelming her senses. He was less gentle this time, less slow as he touched her—his hands on her were demanding, possessive, pulling her close to him as he claimed her mouth with his. But she wasn’t shell-shocked this time, wasn’t taken aback by the suddenness of the kiss—some part of her had wanted this, wanted him, for weeks, had been dreaming for weeks on end about what she’d do if she ever got her hands on him again. This was it—this was her chance to have him, and she’d be damned if she was going to let it go to waste again. The whole settlement could come knocking on the door—she was going to have him.

  ”Bedroom?” she breathed into his ear, challenging him to deny her.

  ”Yeah,” he breathed into her ear—and then suddenly, his arms were around her, lifting her bodily off the floor and carrying her down the hall to his bed.

  What a terrible idea this was, she thought dizzily as she kissed him. She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 11 – Lachlan

  Lachlan could barely believe what was happening. His whole mind was reeling—he was finding it difficult to catch his breath, let alone to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts. Serena was in his arms—Serena, who he’d been trying so hard to be professional towards, whose wishes he’d been trying to respect. She wanted him. He wanted her so badly it was tearing him up—it had been for weeks. No matter how hard he tried to look at her as an employee, he just couldn’t—she was too bright, too beautiful, too caring and clever and kind. He was falling for her, he knew that with a grim certainty… falling harder than he’d ever fallen for anyone, even the mother of his daughter. What did that mean? Did it mean that the concept of soulmates—something he’d always scoffed at—might actually have some weight?

  He couldn’t think about that right now. Not with her in his arms, so pressing, so immediate. He was carrying her down the hallway like some kind of caveman—but the breathless way she was giggling in his arms told him that she liked it. Well, if a caveman was what she wanted, a caveman he could be… at least for a little while. He tugged at the cardigan she was wearing over her t-shirt as he closed the bedroom door behind them, remembering to be mindful of slamming it—the last thing he wanted right now was for his daughter to wake up and pull them away from each other.

  It had been so long since he’d had a woman in his arms—Sarah had been the last one, the mother of his daughter, but somehow this felt completely different to that. She’d been beautiful, true, but somehow what he was feeling now with Serena was so much more… alive. So electric. He felt like he was actually, truly present in every moment—every touch, every caress, every choked gasp of breath or wandering touch of a hand…

  She was tugging impatiently at his shirt, now, and he yanked it off over his head, desperate to have her skin against his. She’d lost her shirt at some point, too, and he hesitated for the first time as he gazed at her. Somehow, sitting there on his bed in a simple black bra, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Impatient, she tugged at his hand, pulling him
back into her arms—and he set about covering her body with kisses. Somehow, his hands weren’t sensitive enough to take her in—he wanted to feel every inch of her with his lips. It wasn’t long before she was moaning and writhing beneath him, her face flushed and her chest heaving with desire. He unclasped her bra, an old skill coming back to him, and she whimpered as he caressed her breasts, teasing gently at the sensitive nipples, hard as stone in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature…

  Speaking of which. Her hands were suddenly at his belt, and it was his turn to choke back a moan, feeling her hands ghosting across his manhood as she tugged at his pants. He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, didn’t want her to feel like he wanted anything more from her than she was willing to give… but if anyone was doing any pressuring, it was her, he thought with a grin. It wasn’t long before his pants were gone and he was naked before her, feeling oddly self-conscious in the low light of his bedroom. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him naked… and longer still since he’d seen such a hungry, desperate look in a woman’s eye when she looked at him.

  She yanked her pants off as though they’d personally offended her, and he took a deep breath, taken aback by the sight of her spread out before him. But his cock was making demands that simply staring at her was not going to satisfy, and he dropped down over her, pressing their bodies together as he claimed her mouth again in a hungry, searching kiss. He could feel his cock pressing against her soft thigh with exquisite pressure. He wasn’t going to rush this… but when he felt her hand around his cock, he realized with amusement that he wasn’t the one doing the rushing.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” he purred, his breath catching as he felt her caress him. “We have all night—” But any further teasing he might have been planning was cut off when she began to touch him in earnest, her hand moving in slow, sure strokes along his shaft that threatened to undo him completely. He bit down hard on his lip, his hips rocking helplessly, thrusting himself into her grasp—and the low, throaty chuckle she uttered at his desperation was the hottest thing he’d ever heard. He had to have her. Right then, immediately—he reached down to pull her hand away from his cock before he lined himself up and buried himself inside her to the hilt.

 

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