Gambling on Her Dragon (Charmed in Vegas Book 2) (6 page)

Hello, Kaya.

He might as well have said,
Let me lick you right into another orgasm
, the way her body reacted. Pulse racing, blood pooling, face flushing…

A good thing she was still in dragon form.

She stepped back into the last edge of shade cast down by the edgy hills and clawed the ground, wishing she had a little more height. Except for the long neck and tail, she was pretty much the same size as she was in human form. Shifting didn’t actually change body mass, just shape.

She huffed at Trey, trying to produce a little flame.

Failed miserably. Resented him a little more.

Hello, Kaya, my ass.
 The only person who’d ever greeted her dragon that casually was her great-grandmother — the one with really poor eyesight and a very absent mind.

She gave her wings a good shake and wiggled the claws at the tips for extra effect, because that would show this cocky he-wolf what he was up against. No way could he be as cool and collected as he looked. She peered closer and gave a little snort.

His pupils were wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. So, yeah, she wasn’t the only one with a pounding heart here.

She grinned, showing off teeth as long as his fingers.

And what did the bastard do?

He leaned casually against the bumper, as if weary from carrying all those layers of muscle around. Tipped that Stetson of his back and hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. His thick brown hair was disheveled in a near-perfect match to the man in her midnight fantasies of the past ten years.

“Good to see you again,” he said, if she’d
agreed
 to meet him in the middle of nowhere.

She huffed and lashed her tail.

He grinned.

Grinned
, like he started every morning with high-speed car chases and gargoyles. She’d flown back over the city just in time to see the whole thing from high above, although she hadn’t dared show herself in broad daylight. Whatever magick kept humans from seeing the gargoyles certainly didn’t cover her. It was enough of a risk to land in this remote corner of the desert and show herself to him.

Focus, dammit! Focus!

She shook her head and told herself to get on with her plan, which meant keeping cool, calm, and collected. Her sister’s life depended on her now, which meant she needed her phone and the number. This was about life or death, not the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

She cleared her throat, producing a grumbly dragon growl, and shifted — slowly. She tucked her wings, retracted her claws, let her scales pull back under her skin. That part always burned, but she ignored it, keeping a row of scales down her chest even as the rest of her slid back into human form. It was bad enough to have to negotiate with Cowboy Scrumptious; she sure as hell didn’t want to do it naked. Not totally naked, at least.

He stroked his gaze up and down her body like he wanted to memorize every curve. Like he wanted to live in that moment forever. His eyes glowed. A quick lick made his lips shine, and a little bit of white showed where his top teeth bit down.

His eyes roved a little more, and the glow in them said he was claiming that territory as his own.

“Have a good flight?” he asked.

Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching and unclenching just like her teeth.

“That’s my car,” she started.

He looked behind him as if he’d forgotten what he’d been leaning against and patted the hood with both hands.

“My car now.”

“It’s mine!”

The sun slid closer to high noon, and her tiny sliver of shade retreated another inch. They’d roast to death if they spent all morning arguing out here.

“How do I know you didn’t steal it?”

She stomped a foot. “It was my grandfather’s!”

He didn’t even blink. “Seriously? You stole a car from your grandfather? That’s just wrong.”

She sputtered. “I inherited it when he died, okay? It’s mine!”

Damn it, her voice was shaking, the way it usually did when she thought of the kindest, gentlest dragon shifter the world had ever known.

Hot Stuff’s smile disappeared as he tilted his head, studying her. He let a minute tick by, giving her the chance to compose herself before speaking again.

“A dragon with a vintage roadster?”

She shrugged. “My granddad retired to Palm Springs after my grandmother died.” The Jaguar was just about the only thing her grandfather had ever indulged himself in, but Trey didn’t need to know that. And he sure didn’t need to know what was in the glove compartment, either.

“The way I see it, this here’s my car now.” He ran a finger over the chrome edge of the headlight. “Most expensive car I’ve ever bought. Ninety grand.”

A bubble jumped into her throat. Well, of course, he’d noticed the missing cash.

“I need the money.”

“So do I,” he countered.

“It’s important.”

He crooked one perfect eyebrow, going from sinfully cute cowboy to smoking hot outlaw. The man could do every flavor of handsome with tiny gestures he probably wasn’t even aware of.

“I saved your life,” she threw out, standing as tall as she could.

“Not sure that’s worth ninety grand, sweetheart.” He grinned. “And anyway, all I remember is getting jumped by a couple of werebears, then dive-bombed by gargoyles. Not much saving happening there.”

“They spiked your drink in the casino. They’d have hauled you right off to the fighting pits if I didn’t…um…if I hadn’t…”

She lost a little steam there, searching for words, because she really didn’t want to come straight out and say,
If I hadn’t dragged you over hill and dale to lose them and taken you to a hotel where I shagged you senseless for the rest of the night.
 Or,
If I hadn’t panted over every hard inch of your body the way I’ve never done with any man.

“Um…uh….” she stuttered on.

“Fighting pits?” he asked, then shook his head, dismissing his own question. “Wait. You don’t exactly seem the gambling type. What were you doing in the casino anyway?”

“Like I said, I needed the money.”

“Needed to steal
my
 money?”

“I can explain,” she mumbled, fidgeting under his gaze.

He crossed one ankle over the other and folded his arms. His eyes charted her long, bare legs and then he flashed that shit-eating grin. “Be my guest. Explain.”

“Damn it,” she cursed him as much as herself. “Give me a shirt or something.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The scales were itchy as hell, and it was hard to concentrate while hanging on to that last bit of dragon.

His wet lips gleamed. “Shy, all of a sudden?”

She winced, remembering some of the sounds she’d made the previous night. The cries.
Oh, Trey! Harder! Deeper!

“Okay, then you shuck the jeans,” she challenged him. “Put us on equal footing.”

For one horrifying moment, his thumbs twitched in his pockets and his eyes gleamed. He fingered his collar as if he really were considering stripping there and then.

Her nipples jumped to attention, and her face burned from a blush that must have made her beet red. She’d seen her share of naked men, but somehow, this one set off a whole different set of reactions in her gut. Remembering him naked in the whispering shadows of night was one thing. Drinking in the sight of him in broad daylight, though…

She exhaled, shooting the air up across her face, trying to cool down.

Just when she thought she might actually shift into dragon shape and roar at Trey, he relented. He took two steps back, reached into the rear seat, and tossed her a shirt. The bastard even had the manners to look away while she pulled the shirt on. He’d be so much easier to despise if he peeked or cackled or leered. But no, he was playing the gentleman now, all charm and wit.

Damn him, damn him, damn him.

She tugged the hem down as low as it would go.

“Want the pants?” he asked.

She did a double take. How on earth had he managed to grab her clothes while eluding the bounty hunters?

Her pants came flying at her next, landing on her outstretched arm.

“Undies?” He grinned, swinging them on a finger.

She snatched them and yanked them on as he rooted around in a backpack. “I think I have a bra in here somewhere…”

Part of her wished he’d pull out some other woman’s bra, because that would make it so much easier to do what she had to do — namely, swindle him not only out of his money, but her phone, her clothes, and oh, yes, the car, too.

But no. He pulled out her black lace bra and held it out like a peace offering. “Yep.”

She grabbed it and stuffed it into her back pocket. Patted the other back pocket. Where was her phone?

“So,” he said, settling against the driver’s side door now. Blocking it, too, in case she decided to try for a quick escape. “Explain.”

She summoned all the dignity she could. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“No, you owe me ninety thousand dollars,” he said with no bitterness whatsoever. “You can give me that instead.”

Her shoulders slumped, because he’d just laid the truth bare. She’d robbed an innocent man — well, a man innocent of everything except looking hot as sin and screwing her on the first date when he was drugged. She’d left him to his fate at the hands of a couple of thugs. She’d watched as he’d fought for his life against a trio of gargoyles…

God, what had she done?

“Why do you need a car when you can fly, anyway?” he asked. “And why were those gargoyles after the car?”

She pushed her palms against her eyes, trying to evade reality once again. The gargoyles worked for the thugs who had her sister. They’d picked up Kaya’s trail the minute she entered Vegas, and she’d barely shaken them off. They must have been watching the car, waiting for her to return.

A step sounded beside her, and when a gentle hand slid across her shoulders, it took everything she had not to lean in for comfort.

“Hey,” he whispered. “What’s going on?”

She gulped. Took a deep breath. Forced her chin up and the truth out.

“I need the car to get my sister away. She can’t fly.”

He tilted his head.

“Half sister.” She shrugged. No need to tell him what the other half was…just in case.

He nodded as though the words didn’t sound crazy to him at all.

“She in some kind of trouble?” His voice went all low and rumbly, like the Lone Ranger about to saddle up and head off on his latest rescue mission.

“You could say that.”

She was sniffling now, and damn it, there was no reason for that. She straightened her shoulders and looked into his eyes — deep, looking past the compassion and concern, past the worried gleam. Could she trust this man?

The eyes were ocean blue now.
You can trust me.

She fought them for another moment, then gave in. Who else did she have?

“My sister came to Vegas a few weeks ago.” She shook her head at the memory of the first phone call, in which Karen raved about having such a great time and meeting such a great guy. “She won some money at the slot machines, then lost a lot more. And more, and more.” She winced. God, how could her sister have been so stupid? “Then she borrowed some from a guy she’d just met, and lost that, too…”

Trey nodded as she explained. It was all so predictable, really. Except for the details, but she wasn’t about to share those.

“I got a frantic phone call from her. She’s being held by the guy until she gets the money, and if she doesn’t get it by tonight…”

Trey’s brow wrinkled when she didn’t go on. “Then what?”

She fluttered her hands, wishing she could leave the rest out. “He says he’ll make her earn it back. The easy way.” She made air quotes around
easy
, shivering at the thought of her sister offered up as a sex toy to any paying man.

Trey’s hand caught hers and squeezed just a little bit. “What about the police?”

She shook her head. “These are shifters we’re talking about. We can’t involve the police.” She hurried on before he asked too many details, such as what kind of shifter was involved. “So I need eighty thousand dollars—”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Ninety.”

“What?”

He scraped his palms over his stubbly cheeks. “They called this morning, and I had to bluff—”

“You what?” she screeched, jumping away.

He shrugged. “The phone rang, some guy demanded money, the girl screamed…”

Her sister had screamed? Kaya’s gut clenched.

“I had to do something, so I said they could have five more.”

“Five more?”

He nodded. “But the guy went to ten…”

“You were bargaining for my sister?” she shrieked.

His shoulders drooped. “What else was I supposed to do?”

If he hadn’t looked so pained, she might have smacked him. She settled for a tiny slap to one muscled shoulder and tried to ignore the little zing the contact sent through her body. “What did he say?”

He looked up, resembling a chastised puppy. “Midnight. We have until midnight.”

She started.
We.
 Had he really just said
we?

“So…” He nodded. “What’s the plan?”

And just like that, she went from damsel in distress to leader of a rescue squad. A very small squad consisting of one dragon and one wolf.

Make that one nervous dragon and one big, formidable wolf.

She studied his eyes one more time. The same eyes that had held hers in that fairy-tale moment when they’d first met. The same eyes that thanked her for what she’d done to him — and what she’d let him do to her — last night in bed.

The eyes looking at her now, promising he meant it.

She might just have drowned in those eyes if it hadn’t been for him tilting his head and speaking softly. “I’ll help. I’m happy to help.”

He was the one talking, but she was the one choking on the words. And if he was the one who offered a hug, she was the one who leaped into it and wrapped both arms around him tight.

It was crazy, the pull he had on her. Crazy for her to trust him so much. But the whole situation was crazy, right?

She took a deep breath, extracted herself from the hug, and held up one finger. “I’ll be right back.”