Treasure Lane Dragons: Complete Series (BBW Paranormal Dragon Shapeshifter Romance) (21 page)

You’ve been hanging around bikers for too long,
Ruby chided herself, though she relaxed seeing that it wasn’t an immediate danger to her.

The bike pulled up next to her and stopped, one strong, booted leg propping it up against the curb. Ruby frowned but stopped, her hands wrapped around her body. It was cold out, or at least cold enough to need more than a tiny top and a skimpy skirt for a nighttime trek.

The streetlight illuminated the man as he pulled off his black and green helmet, revealing Cillian’s tousled hair and familiar grin.

“It’s you!” she exclaimed, her surprise quickly morphing into worry.

He was sporting a nasty black eye and bruises on his neck, and the way he was holding himself a bit hunched over, told her trained eye the obvious story – he was badly hurt. Cable and his guys must have done a number on him.

“It is I!” he agreed with equal fervor.

He deposited his helmet behind him and handed her another helmet that had been strapped in behind him on the small seat.

“Put this on. This is no place for a lady to be traipsing around.” Ruby took the helmet uncertainly, holding the heavy thing in her hands. “Go on, put it on. I won’t leave you out on the street like this,” he urged, his emerald eyes weary but still so bright that she wished she could keep staring into them forever.

He gingerly peeled off his leather jacket and held that out for her as well. The yellowish light of the streetlamp licked at his strong arms and the flat, inviting plain of his chest. He had full sleeves of tattoos, all exquisite work, and she could spy a few more underneath his shirt. She wondered what else he was hiding. But as she admired his stunning body, she also noticed the trickle of blood that had seeped through his tee and the black and blue bruises popping all over him. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find him sporting a few broken ribs.

“You’re hurt,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You’re right. And if we continue this for very long, I’m going to be cold too. Now humor me, sugar, and put the helmet and the jacket on so you wouldn’t catch a cold and die on me, alright?” he said, dangling the jacket in front of her. She wouldn’t budge just yet though.

“Why should I come with you? And where the hell are you taking me anyway?”

His expression fell a little, and she wasn’t completely sure, but she thought she saw smoke rising from his nostrils for just a second.

“If it’s better than The Rusty Nail, do you really care?”

He made a compelling point. Damn him. And his sexy arms. She pulled his jacket on, and the warmth hugged her like a safe cocoon. She zipped it up and then wrestled the helmet over her head. She was completely surrounded by his scent, and she had to admit, it was not unpleasant.

“Now the shoes,” he directed, and she put them on, cursing under her breath. “Get on, sugar. Let’s ride,” Cillian said, flashing her a grin before pulling his own helmet on.

“I’m still not your sugar,” she grumbled.

“And I still don’t agree.”

Tentatively (and with some difficulty) Ruby threw her leg over the back of the bike and settled in behind him, her hands around his waist. He felt so warm to the touch, almost hot. 

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“With a girl like you keeping me warm? Never,” he said, that warm rumble of his voice doing things to her again.

She considered snipping back at him, but he felt so good next to her, and frankly, she was relieved to get some direction for the night that she didn’t feel like ruining it with being smart. He revved the engine again and took off down the street, leaving nothing but tire marks on the pavement to indicate that they had ever been there at all.

CHAPTER FIVE

Cillian

For a split-second before letting Ruby into his penthouse apartment, Cillian wanted to apologize for the state it was in. Then, he remembered that not everyone in the world was as pretentious as dragons, and that every sane person would be floored by his Chicago home, all whites and gold and ridiculously expensive furnishings with floor to ceiling windows. Still, there was that lingering, nagging feeling that if only the Greenmeadow fortune wasn’t in the state it was in, then maybe…

Cillian shook his head, unlocking the door in front of a visibly exhausted, but still completely captivating Ruby.

“Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, letting her walk in in front of him.

It might have been a gentlemanly thing to do, but in all honesty, he just wanted to sneak a peek at that gorgeous ass of hers.

Nice,
he thought with a dark smirk, closing the door behind him.

The lights flickered on all across the apartment and the curtains rolled out from in front of the windows, activating his morning arrival mode. Somewhere in the distance, the coffee machine whirred to life.

“Wow,” Ruby said bluntly, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door. “Tres chic, Mister Biker. I would never have guessed.”

She wandered deeper into the apartment, the living room and kitchen all one spacious, almost ridiculously large room, with the master bedroom off to one side of it and his study to the other. It acted as his base of operations while he was away from Emerald Ridge, which had been more and more lately. There was something about the Greenmeadow mansion in Colorado that just didn’t sit right with him at the moment.

But it was no time to be thinking about uncomfortable topics like that when he had a gorgeous redhead in his apartment and, perhaps more importantly, he was slowly bleeding out from a stomach wound.

“Yeah, well, I am full of surprises, Miss Accardo. I hear it’s one of my least impressive qualities,” he said with a wink, kicking off his boots and socks.

His toes dug into the plush white carpet, and he let out a relieved sigh. It was good to be home. Though he loved the job, he hated running around all the time, worrying about other people’s business. Dragons really weren’t meant for hard work, and even though Cillian was decidedly the flag bearer of a new generation of more productive, less lazy dragons, he still would have preferred sleeping his days away on a pile of gold somewhere.

Ruby turned to face him, and the first rays of the sunrise licked at her auburn hair, giving her a bit of a halo. His heart beat faster than it should have. Cillian blamed it on the wounds and the residual adrenaline pounding through his veins, but he couldn’t even fool himself. She was something special, alright. Something special he couldn’t have.

“So I assume my father sent you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

She looked cute like that. Like she really thought she could scold him for saving her from a pack of deranged werewolves.

“You assume correctly,” he agreed, walking through the living room area to the kitchen sink while peeling off his black tee.

He winced as it ripped off of a few wounds, having stuck to them when they were still fresh. Some jerk had given Cable what could be identified as a shank, and the big lug of a man had taken no time in putting it to good use. It was only when Cillian had managed to knock him face-first into a wall and then whack him over the head with a pool cue that the man went down. But that of course meant that Cillian had to deal with his friends. All in all, it had been thanks to his quick legs that he made it out of there in one, mostly complete, piece.

He heard the way Ruby’s breath hitched a little as the tee came off of him, and he smiled privately. So maybe it was because of his wounds, but he’d like to think that it was at least partially the swooning sounds a woman makes when she sees one hell of a man.

“You’re hurt. Badly,” she said, rushing over to him. He had just turned on the tap to try and clean himself a little, but she closed it just as quickly, giving him a stern look. “Do you have an emergency kit? Go lay down on that couch there. You shouldn’t be walking around.”

His bemused smile melted off his lips and now it was his turn to sigh.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, pointing at a cupboard near the sink. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he remarked sourly, stalking over to the couch and laying down with a plop.

It wasn’t the right decision – the groan that tumbled forth from his lips was sign enough of that.

“Hey, don’t sass me, mister. I barely know your name, and for some reason, you thought it was a good idea to piss off the leader of a gang of werewolf bikers. Really, I think you should be the one counting your lucky stars.”

“It was well worth it,” he remarked with a grin, blowing a kiss to her as she sauntered over to him, med kit in hand.

It must have been the right thing to say, because she blushed a little. It looked good on her. Made her look a little more like the delicate flower he assumed she was under all that makeup and tight clothes. Ruby took a seat next to him and opened the kit, finding some disinfectant, wipes and a needle and thread.

“It’s really not necessary. Most of this will just heal on its own,” Cillian protested mildly, but just enough so he could say that he put up a fight.

She was close to him, and while he could claim that he was doing his job by keeping her nearby, he had much more selfish reasons for doing so. For instance, then he could internalize that sweet lemon and vanilla scent of hers. Or he could sense her pulse racing when she looked at him – all things he and his dragon didn’t mind one bit.

“You’re talking to a medical professional here. Let me be the judge of whether or not you’re okay, hmm?” Ruby spritzed the disinfectant on a few wipes and tapped carefully at the wounds on his abdomen, some piercing right into his sides and abs.

He was lucky that Cable hadn’t got a bigger knife. Then again, Cable should have been thankful that he hadn’t just turned into a dragon and demolished the entire bar in a fit of rage. It was a nice ace to keep up his sleeve. For emergencies and really bad practical jokes. Ruby lifted the pad and looked at it, frowning. She showed it to him, cocking one brow.

“Why is this green?”

“Oh. I’m a dragon. That’s why. Couldn’t you tell by my perfect physique and my daring quest to save you?” he queried, trying to keep from wincing when she cleaned another wound.

“A dragon, huh. I’ve never heard of a dragon shifter. Not too many of you guys, I guess?”

“Most of the Forbes top 50 richest people in the world are dragons, actually. Little known fact. Our Christmas parties are killer,” he joked, getting a little snort out of her in return.  “Shouldn’t you be a bit more rattled by all of this? Me being a dragon, Cab
le, your impromptu engagement…”

Ruby looked at the platinum ring on her finger, and Cillian caught sight of it too. His dragon grumbled with irritation at it. It was only through a modicum of good sense and reminding himself that it was none of his business that he managed to contain the need to pull it off her finger. He didn’t like anyone else’s jewelry on her, which was ridiculous as he really had no claim to her other than the fact that he decided that he really,
really
wanted her.

He exhaled a breath of relief when she took it off herself and set it down on the table, giving it one more stormy look for good measure.

“I should, shouldn’t I,” she agreed. “This is going to sting a little. But you’re such a big, strong man, I’m sure you can handle it,” Ruby said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn’t mind. He liked her with a bit of sass.

“I guess the last month has been so pants on head insane that I find myself thoroughly unimpressed by everything. That, and I think I’m exhausted.”

She pinned the needle into him and started to stitch him up. Blessedly, he could barely feel a thing.

“Are you going to take me back to my father?”

“That was the deal, yes.”

“Oh.” Ruby made a few more stitches with Cillian keeping a keen eye on her. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “So why didn’t you take me there right away?”

He shrugged, immediately finding that he wasn’t currently in any shape to shrug.

“I figured you deserved a chance to tell me what was going on before I handed you over to someone else. That, and I thought you might need a few hours to yourself. Parents can be… well, they can be.”

She looked up at him, a bit of guilt in her eyes, and her teeth caught her plush lower lip. Fuck. Those lips. The kiss still lingered with him, taunting him with unattainable possibilities. It was as if the juiciest fruit was being dangled right in front of him, and he couldn’t reach out to pluck it. When they’d kissed, everything seemed to float away for a moment. His worries, his problems, the fact that there was a 250-pound man racing to kick his ass… It was hard not to get lost in that.

“Yes, they can,” she agreed softly, finishing one wound and starting on another. She pressed on his ribs gently, and his breath got stuck in his lungs. “These are broken.”

“You’re telling me,” Cillian gasped.