The Dragon Bodyguard Read online

  Damien felt unsteady on his feet when Miller told him the news.

  Pregnant? he thought. There's no way.

  "This is just some fucking mind game," said Damien. "You're a sick fuck, Miller."

  "Mind game?" said Miller. "I'd never, never joke about something of such grave importance. Besides, if you don't believe me, just ask the mother-to-be herself."

  Damien's eyes latched onto Ingrid. With tears in her eyes, she nodded, and Damien realized this was no trick – she was actually pregnant. Then he turned to Adeline, the sight of her tied up causing a feeling of rage to boil within Damien that he'd never known before in his life. It took every bit of restraint to keep his beast at bay and not kill Miller without delay.

  "Then what the fuck do you want?" demanded Damien. "Tell me!"

  "Easy now, big guy," said Miller. "Just need you to sign some documents…"

  He explained the plan to Damien, who was in disbelief that this could be what this was all about, the reason why Miller was putting everyone he cared about in such danger.

  "Money?" shot Damien. "You're doing all of this just for more money?"

  Miller raised his eyebrows.

  "Didn't you hear the rest of it? This is about more than money. Once you and the rest of your boys are out of here, I'll be the only game in town. I'll be the paramilitary wing for every congressman and gladhander in this miserable little swamp. I'll provide protection, I'll be their eyes and ears, and I'll make sure no one does anything without my knowledge. Who knows? In a few years, I might be the private security for the president himself. Not a bad gig for a humble little shifter from Iowa, if you ask me."

  Damien kept his animal restrained. He'd never wanted to kill more in his life. But he had to wait for the signal.

  "Now," said Miller. "Come here and sign all this legal mumbo-jumbo, and I can get you on your way. Maybe start looking at places on the west coast, if you know what's good for you and yours."

  Damien clenched his fists and approached the contracts. He took the nearby pen in his hand and looked one more time at the two women in his life. Seeing Ingrid in danger the way she was made him realize just how much she meant to him. He wanted to protect her, just like with Adeline, to keep her safe. Her and the child she carried.

  "Go on," said Miller. "Get to it."

  But right when Damien picked up the pen, a mournful wolf howl sounded through the night air. Then another. Then another.

  That's it, thought Damien. That's the signal.

  "Now, just what the hell is that?" asked Miller.

  Damien didn't give him time to get a response. Grabbing the pen, he stabbed the nearest goon right in the neck, the tip going through and cutting right into the man, who dropped to his knees.

  "What the hell?" said Miller.

  The gunfire rang out from outside the warehouse. Damien knew this was his chance. Closing his eyes, he shifted into his wolf form and lunged toward the next-nearest man. He pounced, before the mercenary had time to shift, and sunk his teeth into his neck and gave it a sharp twist.

  More gunfire sounded, and Miller looked around, his expression one of terror.

  "Get the fuck out there and fight those assholes off!"

  A handful of men rushed outside, leaving Miller and Damien alone.

  "You cocky motherfucker," said Miller, preparing to shift. "I'll make you pay for this."

  Miller then shifted into a great, silver-furred wolf. The two wolves circled around each other, each one sizing the other up. Damien knew Miller wouldn't go down as easy as the rest, and he tried to focus, blocking out the gunfire and roaring from outside as Damien's and Miller's men battled.

  Miller made the first move. He lunged through the air, his eyes wild and his mouth in a snarl. Damien dove out of the way, and Miller hit the ground hard. He was soon back on his feet, however, and ready for another attack. Damien moved in close, doing his best to bait Miller into another strike. More gunfire sounded from outside, and Damien did his best to not think about how his men were doing out there. Miller's paw swiped through the air, and the claws grazed Damien's face, sending waves of pain through his body.

  That's your last one, thought Damien, moving in close.

  Miller's eyes narrowed, and Damien knew he was getting ready to move in for the kill. But before he could strike, a figure rushed in to his flank.

  It was Ingrid.

  With a quick arc, she jammed the pen she'd pulled out of the merc into Miller, sinking it deep into his fur. Miller howled, then swung his head at Ingrid, connecting with her and sending the girl tumbling backward.

  No! thought Damien.

  The sight of Ingrid being harmed was too much for him. His rage took over, and he was ready to kill. With a quick pounce, he rushed in and sank his teeth deep into Miller, biting all the way down to the bone, putting every last drop of his anger into his attack. Miller howled and thrashed, but he was no match for Damien and his rage. Damien held hard to his enemy, not giving an inch. Miller soon struggled less and less as the life left his body, and with a quick twist, Damien finished the mercenary off.

  He tossed the limp body aside like garbage and shifted back into his human form. Damien ran over to Adeline, untying her and embracing the girl.

  "Daddy!" she shouted, throwing her arms around her father.

  Next, he took Ingrid into his arms, and as he held them close, he realized the depths of his love for the two women in his embrace, and how lucky he was to have them both safe.

  Letting them go, Damien led the two girls outside of the warehouse, where Smith stood, weapon in hand, among the rest of the mercenaries. The crew all shifted back to their human forms, and Damien saw that the grounds were littered with the bodies of Miller's crew.

  It was over.

  Damien approached Smith and gave him a shake and a hug.

  "We good inside, boss?" he asked.

  "We're good," said Damien. "Nice work. Everyone."

  The men nodded, and Damien turned back to his girls. Adeline ran to her father, wrapping her little arms around his legs. And Ingrid looked at him with tearful, overjoyed eyes.

  "I hate that it took something like this to make me realize it," said Damien. "But I love you, Ingrid."

  Ingrid nodded, tears streaming down her face.

  "I love you too."

  Damien pulled his woman close, bringing her lips to his.

  At that moment, his heart overflowed with joy.

  CHAPTER 9

  "No, no," said Ingrid, a sly smile on her lips. "I think I want to call the shots for this one."

  Damien, lying next to Ingrid in bed, his glorious body completely nude, responded with a smile of his own.

  "Fine," he said, "I can let the girl be in charge for once."

  "And they say people don't change."

  Ingrid moved in close to Damien, slipped her hand between his head and the pillow, pulling him close. She brought her lips to his and kissed him slowly, tendering, basking in the love they shared. She moved her other hand down the side of his body, wondering if she'd ever get tired of just how goddamned gorgeous this man was.

  "Then," said Damien, pulling away and rolling over onto his back, the sheets tenting over his massive erection, "I'll let you get to it."

  Ingrid raised herself to a sitting position and moved over top of Damien until she was straddling him, his cock pointed right up at her sex. She leaned in one more time and kissed him. She couldn't help it – she just couldn't get enough of the way he tasted. As they kissed, she reached back and took hold of his prick, grasping it by the base and placing it against her lips. Ingrid let out a little gasp at the sensation of the head of his prick against her, and she slowly began to move it deeper and deeper inside.

  Just like always, just like during the hundreds of other times they'd made love over the last year, she wondered just how she was going to fit all of him inside her. But just like always, she did it. Ingrid impaled herself on Damien's cock, and once he was fully buried inside her, fi
lling her completely in the way that only he'd been able to do, she took a moment and savored the feeling.

  Then, when she was ready, Ingrid began rocking back and forth, Damien's cock moving in and out of her as she did. Ingrid regarded Damien's face as it tightened into an expression of pleasure; she knew he loved being ridden by her as much as she loved doing it. His hands moved up her sides, coming to a rest on her full breasts, holding them in place as the rest of her body shook with each bucking. Ingrid leaned forward, letting her breasts hang in Damien's face as she braced herself by resting her hands on his solid, strong chest.

  "Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," said Damien between breaths.

  "I love riding you so much," she said. "It's like heaven."

  She rocked her hips back and forth, slowly building up the pace. Eventually, her gentle rocking moved into full-on bouncing. Holding herself upright, she lifted her hips up and down, crashing them onto Damien's cock, penetrating herself with it over and over again. Damien's hands moved around, and he grabbed her ass hard, pushing her hips against his cock as they fucked.

  An orgasm began to form inside Ingrid, and she still couldn't believe just how fast he was able to make her cum. It was as though his cock were the key that unlocked total sexual bliss for her; at times, she wondered if his prick had been made just for her.

  "Oh God, oh God," she said over and over like a chant as the orgasm grew closer and closer.

  Damien grunted and moaned as Ingrid continued to ride him hard, and she could tell he wasn't too far off from unloading himself deep into her. Ingrid continued to buck and grind, pressing herself hard against Damien. After just a little bit more of this, Ingrid could see that Damien wasn't going to be able to hold back for much longer. And so much the better, as her orgasm broke loose at that moment, rushing through her body in a hot wave of ecstasy. Then Damien came, and he grabbed hard onto Ingrid's hips, holding her in place as he shot himself deep inside of her.

  After a time, their orgasms passed, and Ingrid collapsed on top of Damien's heaving chest.

  "You keep that up," said Ingrid, running her fingertip over Damien's mouth, "and you're gonna have another newborn around here to deal with."

  "Nothing wrong with that," said Damien. "The more the merrier, in my opinion."

  Ingrid laughed and tossed a pillow at her lover.

  "Easy for you to say – you're not the one pushing it out of you."

  And as if right on cue, a baby's cry sounded from across the house.

  "I was getting too comfy anyway," said Damien.

  "Then you get ready for work, and I'll deal with the kiddo."

  "Deal."

  The two of them hopped out of bed, Damien heading to the bathroom and Ingrid throwing a robe around her body and starting for the nursery. Once there, she approached the crib and laid eyes on the squirming, crying form of Alexander, their two-month-old baby.

  "Come here, little man," said Ingrid, scooping the baby up into her arms and holding him close.

  Apparently, some attention was all he wanted, for as soon as Ingrid picked him up, he quieted down.

  "Morning, kid," said Ingrid to Adeline, who was already up and in the kitchen, a big bowl of cereal in front of her.

  "Morning!" she said, her voice chipper.

  She hopped off her barstool and approached Ingrid and Alexander, her eyes wide as she looked at the baby.

  "He sounded so angry!" Adeline said. "And now look at him."

  "Just didn't like waking up alone, I guess."

  "Or maybe you've got baby magic," said Adeline. "Let me see him."

  Ingrid handed the little baby off to Adeline, who set to cooing and kissing him right away. Ingrid poured herself a cup of coffee and walked out onto the balcony, letting the gentle fresh air calm her mind.

  She couldn't believe it'd been a year since she found out she was pregnant. The time since then seemed to have flown by like nothing.

  Doesn't hurt that we've all been crazy busy, though Ingrid.

  Between the baby and Damien's new clients in the wake of his biggest competitor being bumped off, the household had been a bustle of activity. Ingrid and Damien officially became a couple, of course, with her becoming part of the home as his girlfriend, rather than the nanny. And with looking after the baby and working the books for Damien's business, she was busier than she'd ever been.

  But also happier. In fact, she couldn't remember when, in her life, she'd been so content. And why wouldn't she be, she'd think. She was surrounded by so much love every day that it would be impossible to not feel joy.

  "Hey there," said Damien, stepping onto the balcony, dressed in one of his sharp suits and ready for the day.

  "Hey," said Ingrid. "Busy day ahead?"

  "You know it," he said. "Still scrambling to cover the work left behind by you-know-who. Lots of money, but even more work."

  "It's worth it, though, right?" asked Ingrid.

  "Of course, it is," he said. "I get to know I'm working for the ones I love."

  Ingrid smiled warmly.

  "Listen," said Damien. "I had some plans. Big ones, really. I was going to take a break from work in the next month or two and take you and the kids up somewhere, anywhere away from the city for a while. Paris, maybe?"

  "Spoiling the surprise yourself?” asked Ingrid with a smile.

  Damien chuckled.

  "Maybe," he said. "But part of the plan was, once there, I wanted to ask you something. But seeing the way you looked this morning, how beautiful you were, and how happy I was to wake up next to you, made me realize I couldn't wait any longer. So…"

  Ingrid's heart soared at what she thought he just might be asking. He slipped a small box out of his suit jacket and opened it up. Sure enough, it was a gorgeous, sparkling engagement ring.

  "Ingrid Parker, will you-"

  She couldn't wait for him to finish.

  "Yes!" she shouted, throwing her arms around him, and covering his face with kisses.

  Damien slipped the ring on her finger and embraced her.

  "I love you, baby," he said.

  "I love you too," said Ingrid. "So, so much."

  The two embraced for a time, holding each other close as they looked out into the distance.

  Then, a voice snapped them out of their reverie.

  "I hope this means we're still going to Paris!" said Adeline, standing in the doorway with Alexander and evidently having had watched everything.

  Damien and Ingrid laughed, and Ingrid gestured for Adeline to join them. The family stood together, enjoying one another's company, all knowing they had more and more days like this to look forward to. Ingrid couldn't wait to get started.

  Highland Shifters

  Book 1: Time of the Werebears

  Chapter 1

  “And to the left you'll see a portrait of Lord Lachlan, who ruled with an iron fist. He had a deep intolerance for Highland rebels and pushed for their total annihilation. In the display case to your right is his sword, which shed the blood of countless Highland men, women, and even children, though some were taken in to be re-cultured in the ways of the crown.”

  Studying the blade sent a shiver down Sadie McNeil's spine. She was enjoying the tour of her family's castle, and although her heritage trip had just begun, she couldn't wait to see what might happen next. She hoped to learn about her distant family's history as much as possible. The guide spoke on about Lord Lachlan, painting a vivid image of the tyrant in her mind. She could imagine the man's stern face in battle, his eyes narrow and ready to spill the blood of anybody who dared defy him. A series of his portraits lined the walls, and by the time they reached the end of the hallway, she was sure she wouldn't have liked him.

  Suddenly, she thought she heard somebody yelling her name. A faraway echo made her turn, her heart thudding rapidly. Where had it come from? Nobody here knew her; she had traveled alone. She looked around the group; nobody else seemed to have heard it.

  “Sadie!” it called again. She heard i
t clearly this time, a man's voice; urgent and afraid. She broke away from the group, following the sound of her name. Everybody else was engrossed in Lord Lachlan's sword. She looked around for the man who seemed to know who she was. She walked slowly, staying close to the wall where the paintings hung proudly in a line. Suddenly, the man's voice seemed to be right in her ear, an intimate breathiness that brought a shiver down her spine. She turned to her right and, to her surprise, found herself gazing right into her own face. At first, she thought she had encountered a mirror, but quickly noted the frame, and the other people surrounding her. Somehow, her likeness had been captured in the middle of an ancient painting.

  She backed away as if the portrait was on fire, clutching at her heart, and then stared again. That was her all right, right down to the mole on her left cheek, and the fiery red curls that she pulled back into a braid. But how could it be? Surely it was just some ancient ancestor. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. She wondered if her mother had ever noticed.

  Sadie studied the painting more closely, holding back the urge to touch it. The woman, who looked identical to Sadie, was standing next to the fierce Lord Lachlan. The tour guide caught up with her and began telling of the painting's history.

  “Here we see Lord Lachlan with his wife, just before the execution of a particularly meddlesome Highland rebel. You see, he is holding the sword from the display case. Lord Lachlan liked to dispose of the rebels himself, told his troops to keep them alive until he dealt with them personally.”

  The group moved away from the painting, but Sadie stayed rooted in one spot. She was suddenly overpowered by an intense nausea, and she ran out of the room, desperate to get away from the image of the terrible man and her doppelganger, standing mournfully beside him.

  She raced down the hallway, turning a corner and pausing to catch her breath. She had been seized by a momentary panic, but if she could just distract herself, maybe she would feel better. Her eyes wandered to the painting in front of her – a group of muscular men scowling and attacking three large bears head-on. The absurdity of the image made her burst out in laughter. The sound of her own voice comforted her, and she took a deep breath. It was reasonable to be uncomfortable; the painting in the other room probably didn't look like her. She had just been under a lot of stress with the divorce looming over her head. Most people wouldn't be holding up anywhere near as well as she was under the same circumstances. Her entire life had just been turned upside down.