DragonGames (4 page)

Lyra took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Aislinn gave a gentle squeeze to the hand
beneath hers. “I don’t think you’ll be sorry you did. Ready to look at the
tarot decks now?”

“Definitely.”

Chapter Three

Lyra cruised through the Drake’s Lair
parking lot, her stomach knotting more tightly with each expensive car she
passed. She’d known what to expect, but knowing it intellectually and seeing it
with her own eyes were two different things. If there was so much wealth on
casual display outside, how much worse was it going to be inside?

Her mouth went dry. She was a teacher from
a middle-class background and this world was so far removed from hers that for
an instant she seriously considered heading for the exit.

Thoughts of Sebastian and Nicolas stopped
her. What did she have to lose?

Sweat trickled between her breasts as she
imagined emptying her bank account then maxing out the one credit card she
allowed herself, all in the feverish pursuit of winning big at the poker table.

“Trust yourself,” she said out loud in an
effort to shore up her confidence. Despite what Aislinn had said about the men
here, and her own reaction to the matchmaking card, she hadn’t come looking for
either a lover or a prospective husband. She’d come to play poker, and she
believed she could hold her own at cards and conversation for an evening,
regardless of differences in lifestyle and wealth.

She licked dry lips, parking between a Tesla
and a Bentley, the least expensive cars in the lot. She got out, invitation
clamped tightly in damp hands.

The steps to the club’s front door felt
like walking down a long tunnel. With each one, it seemed like the roar of the
ocean behind her got louder.

A blond stepped out just as she arrived,
his long hair unbound, his eyes a stunning green. Yesterday she would have felt
a flash of sexual interest. Today she found herself comparing him to the card
with Tielo’s face, and it was the picture that had tendrils of dark heat
curling through her like sinuous smoke escaping a dragon.

Her breasts swelled in anticipation,
heightened by carnal fantasies of Tielo examining, suckling, liking what he
found beneath her clothes. She only barely managed to keep from fanning herself
with the invitation. Who would have guessed a picture would turn her on more
than the flesh-and-blood man actually smiling in welcome?

“Lyra?” he asked, his voice as luscious as
he was.

“Yes.”

“I’m Pierce, your official escort.”

He held the door open for her, offering an
arm once they were inside. She needed it, given the club’s opulence and the men
milling around, or more accurately,
prowling
Drake’s Lair.

They came in all shades of color. Black,
brown, olive, white, though they might well have been cut from the same cloth
because they seemed more alike than different. It was impossible to miss the
dragon imagery, either on skin, jewelry or clothing.

A laugh escaped. Next to her, Pierce
chuckled. “They are a sight, aren’t they?”

She met eyes that made her think of
sunlight shimmering off a green ocean. “Where’s
your
dragon?”

He took a laughing, dramatic step backward,
hand going to his chest. “Gods forbid I be so cursed by the Fates. I share a
fascination with fire, but I’m no dragon.”

She shook her head, enjoying the
role-playing. Apparently everyone here got into it.

A flutter went through her chest as it
occurred to her this might not be the only role-playing done at Drake’s Lair.
For all she knew, the back rooms held dungeons and toys and the equipment used
by BDSM participants.

As if sensing her flash of uneasiness,
Pierce grew serious. He slid his arm through hers. “Rest assured, you are safe
here. There are rules in place.”

The maître d’ stepped out from behind an
elegant wooden podium. His dragon symbol was embroidered on his tie, a gold and
red beast with a hint of green.

“It’s a pleasure to welcome you to Drake’s
Lair. Your invitation, please.”

She offered it, feeling a twinge of
disappointment. She’d imagined framing and putting it on the wall as a reminder
of this night.

A glance around and she laughed at herself.
Gorgeous men, the smell of wealth, the sound of a roulette wheel spinning in
the background and the clink of chips—win, lose or draw, she wouldn’t forget
tonight.

“How about dinner and easy companionship?”
Pierce asked. “And by the latter, I mean me. I’ll even share what tales I know
about any of the men who catch your interest. And if they bore you, a
possibility with dragons, given their obsession with treasure, we’ll no doubt
find something of interest to talk about.”

“Are you the designated greeter for the
women Aislinn sends here?”

“For this evening, yes.” Pierce couldn’t
suppress a laugh. He wouldn’t miss this for the world. In fact, in mere seconds
he felt certain he would win the bet he’d made with Henri, the club’s maître
d’, as to how long Tielo would be able to resist temptation after being told of
Lyra’s arrival.

In order for Tielo to see the woman his
grand scheme had brought here tonight, he would have to leave his office. And
when he did…

Pierce’s amusement deepened. “I’m a mated
man.” And soon his partner would be one as well. “I’m also part owner of
Drake’s Lair. Would you care for a meal?”

“To tell you the truth, I think I’m too
nervous to eat.”

“Understandable. There are men who desire
to meet you. Would you like to move forward with the introductions?”

Her eyes flashed a hint of panic. She
blurted, “I just came here to play poker.”

It tempered some of Pierce’s amusement. He
covered her hand with his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Poker it is then.
Any particular game?”

“Texas Hold’em.”

“Excellent.”

He’d drop all reference to suitors, though
the men she’d next meet were one and the same. She wouldn’t leave unclaimed, if
not by act, then by intention. Once outside the club, she was fair game after a
twenty-four-hour wait enforced by guards Severn had assigned the task. He only
hoped Tielo was not so foolish as to let another have her.

“The choice of who joins you at the gaming
table is completely yours. Shall I present you with some possible opponents? Or
would you prefer a detour to the bar to fortify yourself against the upcoming
battle with dragons?”

The arm hooked through his relaxed. “How
about introducing me to the worst of the poker players?”

“I’ll introduce you to the most likely
candidates.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice in the mock sharing of
secrets. “Dragons never believe they’re going to lose. That hubris, combined
with the prospect of gaining more and better, makes them blind to the emptying of
their coffers. It’s very much like plucking pigeons.”

The rich peal of her amusement had any
number of dragons nearly salivating at the possibility of claiming this
particular human female. If the cost hadn’t been forced exodus from the club
for the remainder of the evening, he had no doubt Lyra would have been mobbed.

They passed the alcove where the Dragon’s
Cup shone from its pedestal, guarded by dragons and magic even in this club
full of beings who would fight to the death rather than allow it to be taken.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Pierce mentally counted down the seconds to
victory, and the addition of treasure to his own hoard.

Two
.

Tielo emerged from his office just in the
nick of time and Pierce smiled at winning the bet with Henri, though that
victory paled in comparison to the larger one.

Heat blazed across the room as Tielo’s gaze
landed on Lyra, so visceral and intense, he might as well have opened his mouth
and sent fire to surround her.

That heat was answered by a quick
inhalation of breath and a sharp tremor. She leaned forward as though she’d
become sinuous flame, drawn to join the more powerful amalgamation of it that
was dragon. Tielo. Albeit, true to form, his partner was fighting the
inevitable, keeping his distance rather than hurrying over to meet his future.

“Wow,” Lyra whispered, a blush crawling up
her neck and into her face, though thankfully hidden by the color of her skin.
Her mouth was dry but her labia was instantly slick.

The picture hadn’t done him justice. In
person he was…

Devastating.

Dark brown hair stopped at his shoulders,
making him appear a maverick among the other dragons with their longer tresses.
But she could easily imagine spearing her fingers through it as she lost
herself in deep dark eyes.

Hope joined to the curl of heat in her
chest, stripping away denial. A part of her
did
want to meet a man.
Mr.
Right
, her mother would say, having experienced
Mr. Wrong
.

A nudge from Pierce broke Tielo’s
mesmerizing pull and altered their course so he was behind them. She became
aware of her surroundings again, the sound of gambling now amplified.

Her stomach knotted. What if Tielo was an
out-of-control gambler, like her biological father had been?

That fear was countered by the hope. What
if he was a member here because he enjoyed the role-playing and the company of
other dragons?

A smile unwound the knot. And then the man
they approached made her blush again at his obvious appreciation of her
appearance and the eagerness at which he stepped forward when Pierce said,
“Lyra, this is Roque.”

Rogue might have been a better name, with
his fierce looks. Long black hair stopped mid-back while a red earring
glittered in one lobe and a soul-patch accented a bottom lip that begged a
woman to capture and suck it.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,”
he said, taking her hand and carrying it to his mouth, his gaze a demand.
Choose
me.

Despite the burn of Tielo’s gaze on her
back—or maybe because of it—her labia heated, growing more flushed, her nipples
beading with longing. Wow. Dragon pheromones were potent.

The ease with which she’d slipped into
their role-playing made her laugh softly, and that sound served as an
invitation for Roque to crowd into her personal space, a wicked tongue stealing
a taste as it darted out to touch the back of her hand.

By the Great Shared Ancestor!
Tielo silently snarled at seeing Roque’s lips on the first of the
prospective mates. He wanted to cross the club and snatch her hand back, to
growl at her for allowing the male to touch her then apply his own teeth to the
tender skin where neck met shoulder. He’d bite and mark her, punishment and
warning and announcement delivered with others present to witness. By the—

He broke rant and fantasy with a snort,
consciously ignoring the flames that erupted from his nostrils. He forced
himself to turn from the sight of the human female with Roque.

The amusement he’d caught in Pierce’s
expression was all he needed to understand this game the tricky fey had set
into play. The introduction to Roque served merely as unnecessary confirmation.

Tielo made his way to the maître d’
station, suppressing a snarl when he saw Henri’s quickly vanishing smile. “Name
the silver-and-gold dragons present.” He could see some of them already.

“Cael, Soren, Jubal, Takeo, Zephyr, Odion
and Roque.”

Smoke escaped Tielo’s nostrils. Four of the
seven came only infrequently to the club, and one, Odion, left the dragon realm
once every century if that!

“The half— Aislinn,” he corrected himself,
Pierce’s earlier warning heeded. He had no desire to
ever
offend his
cousin’s mate Sophie and bring Severn’s wrath down upon himself. “Somehow
Aislinn knows who might be a potential match.” It was easy enough to believe
given the existence of heartstones.

“I don’t know,” Henri said, lifting the
invitation, the movement enough to create the faintest breeze and carry the
potential mate’s scent to Tielo.

His cock spasmed in reaction, leaking
arousal onto the tip. Desire alone was nearly enough to drive his shaft through
the front of his pants like a steel spear.

Only tremendous self-control kept need from
his voice, though the hint of a growl escaped. “Her name?”

“Lyra.”

Lyra
. It
sang through him, dragon nature grasping, clutching it to his heart like rare,
priceless treasure.

A beat. A second. It became impossible to
keep his back to her.

He turned to find Soren standing far too
close to her, the other male’s heat brushing against the front of her body,
surrounding her as Roque’s had. And like Roque, he too carried her hand to his
lips in stolen touch and scent and taste.

Tielo took an involuntary step forward. His
hand closed into a fist against the imagined feel of first delivering a spank
to Lyra’s naked buttocks for allowing Roque and Soren to have any part of her,
and then smoothing over dark, creamy flesh in a gesture of adoration.

Dragon hearing allowed him to catch the
soft sound of her voice as she asked Soren if he wanted to join her at the
poker table. Tielo’s lips pulled back in a snarl, hearing a purr in her voice
though he couldn’t be sure whether it was real or imagined.

“I hope to join you in many more ways,”
Soren said, brushing his lips across her hand for a second time.

Tielo saw red.
No!
Everything inside
him screamed.
Mine! Mine! Mine!

He shook his head, clearing away the fiery
color that painted the room with potential violence.
No!
He repeated.
Only this time the denial held different meaning. This time it was a reminder
that he didn’t want a mate. That he wouldn’t fall prey to his own scheme. He
enjoyed his unmated status.

Locks and trust and alliance were
sufficient to keep the valuables he hoarded in both the dragon and human realms
safe. Even Drake’s Lair could easily exist without his attention for months on
end.

At the first rumor of treasure he could
leave. He could disappear into jungle or isolating terrain, could troll the
bottom of the sea looking for artifacts or gold or gems.