Her Dragon's Treasure Read online

  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT SUZANNE ROSLYN

  Her Hidden Dragon

  Also by Suzanne Roslyn

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I think I do.” He brought her wrist up to his lips. “This mark…” He kissed it, darting his tongue out to trace it against her flesh. “It binds us together as one. The more we are together, the stronger the bond. Everything you think. Everything you feel. We share.”

  Her quick intake of breath told him she felt it, too.

  She regarded him with a magnetic gaze, pulling him closer by a force he couldn’t resist. Like the strong winds in the storm approaching, he felt it building up inside. Thunder cracked like a whip and he stiffened against her.

  She had to feel it. If not now, she would in time.

  —Her Dragon’s Treasure

  Her Dragon’s Treasure

  Dragons of Giresun II

  Suzanne Roslyn

  Her Dragon’s Treasure Copyright © 2018 by Suzanne Roslyn. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Suzanne Roslyn

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Suzanne Roslyn

  Visit my website at www.SuzanneRoslyn.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: Mar 2018

  Ember Secrets

  Chapter One

  Scrambled or fried?

  Cassandra eyed the giant egg in the delivery carton. Not the first time she’d received a package from her aunt and ended up with a yoke.

  She scanned the note inside, paying close attention to the instructions.

  What did Margaret think she was, an ostrich?

  No, she read the instructions twice. Keep it warm. Keep it hidden. This one is not for sale.

  Before she could examine the egg closer, the bell above the door jingled. Cassandra closed the lid on the carton.

  Movement at the back of the shop caught her attention. She spotted a dark-haired stranger holding a small robin’s egg up to the light.

  Tempted as she was, she didn’t dare leave the carton unattended. He tilted his head, revealing the strong cords of his bronzed neck. His shirt unbuttoned just enough to allow a peek at his chest. With his black suit pants he appeared to have gotten lost from somewhere down in the business district.

  Such large hands, she mused, to cradle such a small object, like a fragile egg, between his fingers. A slow heat crept up her neck. No, with those wide shoulders, that hawk-like nose, she knew he was no pencil pusher.

  She almost took a step around the counter but grasped hold of the carton and sat it down on the floor out of sight.

  When her head popped back up, Drake startled her. “Margaret’s got a buyer coming in. Don’t screw this one up.”

  Cassandra took a deep breath, her hand still over her heart from Drake’s fright. “I think I know what I’m doing.”

  Drake sauntered close to her. His cat-like green eyes flashed for her benefit. His narrow-slit pupil enlarging, hiding his alter dragon ego. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you. She doesn’t want any more slip ups.”

  Annoyed to have Margret send one of her lackeys to check up on Cassandra, she pasted on her best smile. She kept the stranger in view from the corner of her eye. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

  Ever since the last egg deal had gotten blown, Margaret had sent Drake to guard her investment at the gallery in Seattle. Cassandra had been disappointed it hadn’t been Jacques who showed up with the package.

  “I go where the boss tells me to go. Just like you do what I tell you to do.” He flicked his finger under her chin. “Secure the package. I’ll return later to check on the deal.”

  Cassandra flipped her dark hair behind her shoulder. Drake walked past her. Instead of going through the back as he usually did, he walked past the stranger. He paused, the stranger’s eyes locked on Drake. She watched them both acknowledge the other with a nod.

  What kind of dragon did she have to deal with now?

  Frozen behind the counter, the stranger approached her after she heard the door close at Drake’s departure. His white spiked hair and pale skin didn’t compare to the dragon before her.

  A roman god, with a white tooth-grin that made her insides flutter.

  With an accent like velvet against her cheek, she got goosebumps when he said, “I’m looking for a rare piece of work. Perhaps you can help me.”

  She slid her foot near the carton, assuring herself it was there.

  His kind didn’t come here seeking art. “You’ve come at the right time. What can I help you with?”

  Edmund had almost given up.

  His trail had gone cold. Then inside this glass and metal structure of one of Seattle’s prominent art galleries, he discovered the display of painted eggs. These were no ordinary eggs to be found in a grocery store or laid in a bird’s nest. These were dragon eggs. As large as a beach ball, oval, and their insides gutted.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He flashed a quick snapshot of the display as a record of proof. His friend Blake, the pendragon of their herd, might need it later when he stood before the draconian counsel for bonding with a human Keeper. It wasn’t enough to bond with a human, but to bond with a blood relative of the ancient dragon riders had been forbidden for centuries.

  So was selling live dragon eggs.

  “I see you deal in eggs. I’m looking to add to my collection.” Edmund congratulated himself on the approach he took with the sales girl. There was no doubt in his mind that she would raise the alarm if she suspected him of anything else. The last thing he wanted was to have her call her ice dragon back here.

  “We have many eggs. Is there one, in particular, you desire?”

  Edmund’s gaze wandered over her lush curves. Her high-necked, long-sleeved, blue silk blouse and black pencil skirt told him her intentions were strictly business. An untrained eye would look no further, but under her straight-laced attire she had the kind of figure made to mold against a man.

  He was reluctant to get down to business. All too soon things would change between them. That hopeful look would vanish from her eyes, and she’d never trust him or want to see him again.

  He forced his gaze from her lips. Behind wire-rimmed glasses, eyes of blue and clear as a mountain stream caught and held his stare before she looked away.

  Sensing her unease, he said, “Yes. I’m looking for something—fresh.”

  Her thick veil of lashes lowered to hide her surprise at his request. An awkward pause passed between them. He knew he pressed her, but this place reeked of dragon and death. And a hint of Margaret’s sulfuric hibiscus scent.

  “The egg. I want it fresh. Not hollow like these.” He swept his hand to indicate the painted shells beside her.

  She chewed on her lip mulling over his reques
t.

  “Perhaps I came to the wrong place. I apologize if I have wasted your time.”

  A flicker in her eyes. Regret.

  “No. Y-you’ve come to the right place.” The touch of her hand on his forearm sent a shock of awareness to all the pulse points in his body. The pull of her senses stunned him.

  She trembled, feeling it too.

  She withdrew her touch. Her voice returned to its prim and proper mode. “How soon are you looking to acquire?”

  “Before the tides change. Two months. Tops.”

  That wary, watchful look which had hovered at the back of her eyes when he first made his request, returned. He started to strip away those modest layers of hers in his mind. Something about her stirred the gentler side of him.

  “I’ll have to check around. See what I can do.”

  “Tell your boss I’m willing to pay a small treasure for what I seek. That is, if she can deliver it.”

  “And whom shall I tell her is seeking it?”

  “Edmund St. George.”

  “It will be a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. St. George.”

  When she handed him her card, he kept his expression blank. “I believe the pleasure will be all mine, Ms. Balkan.”

  “Please, call me Cassandra.”

  He took her hand in his, lifted it to his mouth. Cold and dainty, he turned her hand palm side up. He kissed her palm. Heard the intake of her breath. He slid his tongue down her life line before blowing a bit of fire against her wrist.

  She didn’t flinch, just stared at him. And continued to stare as someone new walked into the gallery.

  Chapter Two

  Once everyone left, Cassandra picked up the carton Margaret had sent. Inside, still nestled, rested the egg. She placed her hand on it, relieved it still felt warm, like a loaf of bread out of the oven. This egg couldn’t have been laid that long ago.

  “Fresh, indeed.” She put the lid back on the carton. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not about to let some big bad dragon have you for supper.” Or any other rich snob seeking immortality. She sighed and hefted the crate in her arms.

  This one was a keeper. Or at least until she could get Jacques to help her swap it.

  She’d missed him these past few weeks, assuming he’d gone into hiding with Margaret when their deal went sour. He owed her a latte. So much more fun to work with than brick-head Drake.

  As she closed the egg vault, her wrist stung. She rubbed the spot, remembering how boldly Edmund St. George had scorched her flesh. His eyes gleamed when he’d looked at her, making Cassandra’s knees grow weak. She’d clutched the counter long after he’d gone.

  No man, human or dragon, had ever looked at her with such intense hunger, desire, that melted her insides.

  It was business. Just business.

  Underneath that human guise, he was a dragon.

  And she was a human. Not only a human, one of the chosen. She came from a family of Keepers.

  Like Jacques and his playful banter when he stayed at the gallery, nothing more could come of such a relationship.

  But Jacques had never looked at her the way Edmund St. George had.

  With Jacques, it was two co-workers striving to attain similar goals. Friends.

  Edmund St. George was anything but her friend.

  She shivered, walking out of the gallery and locking the door behind her.

  Her wrist still throbbed. She wouldn’t ever admit; his little display of fire had turned her on.

  Or maybe that was his intention.

  She’d dealt with dragons all the time. She had no choice in this kind of business. Never had one sparked any kind of interest in her like this.

  Business. Strictly business.

  Outside, the streetlights glowed against the haze of night befalling Seattle’s art district. She hadn’t intended to linger this long. Her arms prickled with goosebumps. Her heels clipped along the sidewalk until she reached the parking garage. Glass bulbs provided lights, and sounds of cars twisting their path out of the seven-story structure echoed around her.

  Despite the warm humidity of summer’s heat in the city, Cassandra crossed her arms against a chill.

  As she approached her car on the top level, she spotted Drake leaning against the driver’s side door. “You’re late.”

  “I had business.” She walked up to him.

  “What did the Roman rocker want?” Drake didn’t budge. He crossed his muscle bulging arms blocking her escape into her car.

  “The same thing they all want. A deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” Drake leaned forward. His hard ass probably pushing a dent into her door.

  She closed her eyes against the nausea he caused, inhaling her as he often did. His cold stare, centered at her breasts.

  “That’s for Margaret and I to discuss.”

  In a flash, his hand grabbed her by the neck. He pulled her up on her toes. Her heart pounding in her chest. He ran his nose up and down her neck. “Remember who you’re talking to. You’re no better than the other bitches in my horde.”

  “Too bad I don’t have an ounce of dragon blood in me to be of any use to you.” She curled her hands around his wrist and arm.

  A slow, cunning smile spread across his pale lips. “If you wanted in on the action, all you had to do was ask.”

  Cassandra stiffened. “You can’t touch me. What would Margaret think if she found out?”

  Drake eased her down to her feet. Her relief came short lived as he pushed her against the car behind her, pining her between his arms. “Just because you can’t lay an egg, doesn’t mean you can’t spread your legs.”

  “You disgust me. I’m not one of your paid escorts. Release me.” She shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge.

  He snickered in response.

  “I mean it, Drake. Back. Off!” She tried to duck under his arm.

  He shoved his thigh in her way. “You think I’m stupid?”

  “I think Margaret will have something to say about this.”

  He leaned his face in close to her. “And what do you think dear ole Margaret will say when she finds out you’ve been making a few private deals of your own on the side?”

  About to slam the herself against him to get him to move, Cassandra halted. She felt the blood drain from her face. “I have not.”

  “Tsk. Tsk.” He pushed the full length of his body against her. He took her arm. Ran his large cold hand down over her elbow. She shivered uncontrollably. He continued to glide those ice-tipped fingers down her forearm to her wrist. He brought it his nose, his pupils turned to slits. He licked her wrist then said, “Then why did he mark you?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She tried to tilt away from him. Found herself pushed down on the hood of the car. Drake leaned over her, pressing his male bulge against her belly.

  “I think you do.” He grabbed her skirt, shoving it up. “You’ll give it to him, and now you’ll give it to me!”

  Cassandra tried to kick against him. “No. Stop. I didn’t. I swear! Get off!!”

  Drake chuckled. He held her down, one hand on her chest, the other shoving up her skirt. She struggled beneath him. She tried kicking him. When one of her attempts to sit up and slug him failed, he grabbed her by the arms. His body pressed rock hard against of her, on top the hood of a car. She felt the metal give into both their weight, indenting the car’s hood. She screamed.

  “Go ahead. Scream for me. It’s you and me. Tell Margaret. She said I can have you when she’s done with you anyway.”

  Drake reached back, unfastening his belt.

  Suddenly, from behind her, she heard a feral growl. Drake toppled back as a figure leapt over her and shoved Drake to the ground.

  Large wings sprung forth from the figure’s shoulders. Under the lamp light scales glint like polished bronze. Two curved, twisted, golden horns sprouted from its head. Cassandra scrambled falling off the car and hitting the cement on her back.

  By the time she caught her breat
h and straightened her glasses, Drake had shifted into his blue cold snouted-self. Staying behind the car, she watched as the two dragons faced off. Drake flipped the bronze stranger and they rolled in a clash of claws and jaws. Bigger than a car, the bronze dragon lashed out with his tail, Cassandra screamed, running out of the way. Three cars slam into the garage barrier.

  When the bronze dragon looked back at her with his platinum eyes, Drake rammed the other dragon, catching it off guard. Close in size, Drake clamped his jaws down on bronze wings, and the bronze dragon sliced his sharp claw against Drake’s snout.

  It’s now or never. Cassandra made a dash back to her car.

  Still in one piece, she punched her car lock code in on the door. Inside she looked up, the bronze dragon had Drake’s head hanging off the end of the parking garage. If that doesn’t attract attention she didn’t know what would. She pressed start on her car, the headlights came on.

  As the bronze’s head jerked back, Drake whipped his tail up, but the bronze rolled out of his way and the blue dragon fell off the top of the garage. Cassandra didn’t wait, she hit the gas, only to find her path blocked by the bronze dragon. She turned on the headlights.

  Sirens blared in the distance. Shit, how will she ever explain this one?

  Platinum eyes stared at her, blinked. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel. What the hell?

  She looked up and Edmund St. George stood in the beams of her head lights in all his naked Roman god glory.

  Chapter Three

  “Get in!” Cassandra didn’t have to tell him twice. Edmund slipped around to the side of the car and got in. Cassandra didn’t give him a chance to buckle up, she hit the gas and sped out of the parking garage level with a squall of her tires. Burned rubber singed his nostrils. Edmund grabbed hold of the dash, his knees against his chest in her car. She spiraled them down the levels of the parking garage.