His Feverish Embrace: Real Men of Wildridge Read online

  “I don’t want to hear it, Ginette,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “I didn’t say anything,” she said with a grin, holding up her hands in surrender. Then she snorted and pointed out the big window overlooking the parking lot. “Oh my god. Look!”

  Mr. Ratzenberger was walking across the parking lot, smiling and waving at them—at her.

  “He’s insufferable.” Rylan sighed with a shake of her head.

  “He’s hotter than a habanero pepper in a volcano is what he is. When are you finally going to give in and have a little fun with him?”

  “Uh, never.”

  Ginette frowned at her. “Girl, you know he’s not wrong. You do work too hard. A gal needs to let her hair down every now and again. I mean, you haven’t gone on a date in…how long has it been?”

  So long your brain would melt, Rylan thought but refused to say. Instead she shrugged as she leaned a hip against Ginette’s desk.

  “You know I don’t have time for nonsense, Ginette. But more than that, I don’t even have the bandwidth to deal with an arrogant, too-good-for-a-mere-human dragon shifter.”

  “He doesn’t think that about you or he wouldn’t keep pursuing you,” Ginette pointed out. “He, like everyone else except you, knows you’re a catch.”

  “Oh my god. Nope. We are not discussing this right now,” Rylan hissed, pushing off the desk and crossing her arms to show her bestie how serious she was. Didn’t work.

  “You know as well as I do that humans and dragons can mate. Sure, it’s not the most common pairing in the world, but it’s not unheard of. Jacob’s dad is hot, rich, and clearly wants to do all kinds of unspeakably filthy things to your body. Sounds like heaven to me.”

  “And it sounds like a liability to me.”

  “What about your needs, Ry? You must be getting all dusty down there. Tumbleweeds a-tumblin’. How long has it been anyway?”

  It was an old joke between them. Ginette continuously tried to work out how long it had been since Rylan was last sexually active, and Rylan flat-out refused to engage with her on the subject. Of course, Rylan knew Ginette’s head would explode if she knew the truth—or more likely, she’d ramp up her efforts to get her bestie-boss laid, which was so far off Rylan’s radar it might as well have been launched into space. So instead, she deflected.

  Checking her watch, she said, “Oh, just about none-of-your-beeswax-o’clock, that’s how long. Besides, all I really need is my subscription to the sex toy of the month club.”

  Ginette snorted diet cola out of her nose. Before she could stop laughing, a very tall, very beautiful woman pushed through the outer doors and approached them with the smile of someone who’s walking in on a joke she missed the punchline to.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m here to drop off my son’s homework. He’s out sick today. Joey Marshall?”

  Ginette smiled warmly and stood to take the folder the woman held out. “Of course, Ms. Marshall, let me help you with that. I hope Joey’s on the mend. We sure miss him…”

  The phone on Ginette’s desk rang loudly, but before she could reach for it, Rylan snatched up the handset so Ms. Marshall could get back home to her son as quickly as possible. A teacher wanted to know the lunch menu for the week, nothing pressing. Rylan turned her back on the women so she wouldn’t bother them.

  As she recited the week’s menu off the printout taped to Ginette’s desk, Ms. Marshall thanked the secretary and said goodbye. Rylan assumed the sound of the outer office door opening was the woman leaving, but she heard Ms. Marshall greet someone in an overly warm tone. As though she knew the person entering the office very well, not that it was any of Rylan’s business.

  For a moment, she wondered if Jacob’s dad had returned to bother her again. But when the man spoke, his sonorous voice sent shivers down her spine and raised goosebumps all over her body, though she couldn’t figure out why. Quickly finishing with the teacher, she turned to hang up the phone and froze.

  Standing in the middle of the office, completely oblivious of Ms. Marshall’s gaze lingering on him before she oozed out the door, was a specter from the past. The one person in the world she never thought she’d see again.

  Her blood chilled in her veins.

  Chapter Two

  Thrett gaped back at the ghost staring at him and wondered if someone had just shot a dragonsbane-tipped arrow into his heart. It wasn’t possible. What were the odds? Nothing could have prepared him for coming face to face with the one woman who had never strayed far from his daily thoughts—even after eight long years.

  Those years had been kind to Rylan. One thunderstruck look revealed how beautifully she had matured. No longer was she the fragile human waif he’d been so afraid of breaking with his dragon strength. Before him stood a confident, curvy professional who set his blood ablaze, despite what she’d done so long ago. The same gorgeous auburn hair was pulled into a neat, tidy ponytail and her cinnamon brown eyes widened with surprise as pink rose in her cheeks.

  Seeing her again was one thing, but realizing that the orchestra of feelings welling in him was echoed by Rylan? That was something else entirely. And damned if it didn’t send fire through his body like no cayenne mocha drink ever could.

  “What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time, and then paused, both fighting off smiles.

  “Working,” they both replied.

  A woman he hadn’t even noticed snickered. His gaze snapped to where she sat, her amused grin accentuated by about a million freckles all over her pretty face. Her dark red hair fell in glossy curls down to her shoulders and her blue-framed glasses brought out the cobalt of her eyes as they bounced between him and Rylan. One sniff told him she was a wolf shifter. On any other day, Thrett might have flirted with the woman, who he guessed was the school secretary, but today wasn’t any other day. Today was the day she walked back into his life.

  Rylan opened her mouth, though no sound came out. She was obviously as flabbergasted as he felt. A weird tapping drew their attention to a window overlooking the parking lot. Jayme, the woman he’d just passed in the doorway, stood there tapping one long, glossy red fingernail against the window and smiling at him. When she saw she caught his attention, she brightened up and used her thumb and pinkie to mime holding a phone to her ear. Call me, she mouthed before spinning dramatically and sashaying away.

  Thrett vaguely recalled hooking up with Jayme at some point in the recent past, but the specifics eluded him. Seeing Rylan again had thoroughly quashed memories of anyone else.

  Returning his gaze to her, he caught her glaring out the window at Jayme’s retreating butt. Ha! She was jealous! The way she blushed when she realized he’d caught her only confirmed it, and he couldn’t stop a grin from splitting his face.

  The morning had taken a turn for the interesting, and it just seemed to be getting better. He’d long harbored a demented and petty fantasy that when they met again, she would feel nothing but regret over what she’d been missing for so long. It was the dream of everyone who’s ever had their heart broken, but no one really ever expected it to come true.

  What were the odds?

  “So…” Thrett flashed an amused smile, but to his surprise, Rylan straightened and folded her hands in front of her, almost visibly smoothing out her composure and giving him an annoyingly professional and primly chaste smile.

  “Good morning,” she snapped crisply. “Rylan Wilson, I’m the principal of Benningford. How may I be of service?”

  Thrett couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He could think of any number of ways for her to service him, not that he could say that. She’d rattled off the line in a tone that would placate the most rancorous of PTA veterans. Damned if she didn’t fill out a professional figure in a way that set his heart thumping, but if she wanted to play professional, he could do that. At least now he knew her last name.

  “Thrett Lacerta,” he said politely, still grinning like a maniac. “I’m the security systems specialist fr
om Wildridge Security, here to hash out some plans for beefing up security around here. I believe you were expecting me?”

  The secretary continued watching their every move, looking for the world like she wished she had a bowl of popcorn for the show. He ignored her and focused all of his attention on Rylan, who shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny before looking away from him.

  Alarm washed over her face at whatever she was looking at beyond him. He started to turn, expecting to find Jayme ogling him again. However, before he could, her slim hand landed on his bare forearm and everything else in the world disappeared. The only thing he knew was her touch. So familiar, so painful. Then her fingers wrapped around his wrist and yanked him into her private office.

  “We shouldn’t discuss such sensitive issues within earshot of the kids,” she said, shoving him toward a chair in front of her desk. “One of them gets the wrong idea, and next thing I know, I’ve got parents breathing down my neck.”

  The moment her fingers released him, his senses came back. Not fully—her subtle perfume made him want to close his eyes and breathe in her scent—but enough to notice other things in the world. Like the outer door to the office opening just as Rylan closed her office door.

  “Hey, Miss Ginny, have you seen my mom?” asked a voice he recognized. It was the kid he’d talked to earlier, Blaise Bradford’s friend. What was his name again?

  “Sorry, Trystin,” said the secretary from behind the door. “You just missed her.”

  He remembered Jayme saying something about having a son, but then Rylan closed the space between them and gazed up at him with those big, brown eyes of hers and the world wrapped around them again. It would only take the tiniest effort to lean in and kiss those full, moist lips…

  * * *

  Sweet baby Jesus, this couldn’t be happening.

  This could not.

  Be.

  Happening.

  So why was it?

  Rylan stood motionless, her heart trying to leap out of her throat. Thrett eased in so closely that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His musky, slightly smoky scent acted like an intoxicant, an old drug she used to be addicted to for a very short time but had grown beyond…until now.

  That was an annoying revelation to unpack. She was as magnetically drawn to Thrett Lacerta—so that was his last name!—now as she had been eight years ago. It pissed her off that she wanted him so badly, but all she could think about was how close he was standing to her right now. How easy it would be to push to her tiptoes and kiss him. Snake her arms around his neck. Wrap her legs around his hips. Every cell in her body, every inch of her lonely soul, ached to do just that. Her body heated up, blooming for him like it had once upon a time. How could he still have such a powerful hold over her?

  No. She had to resist. The wide-eyed, innocent twenty-one-year-old spring-breaker Thrett once seduced was long gone. In her place was a strong, confident, and competent professional with way too much to lose. No way could she allow herself to fall under his spell again.

  Drawing deep from her well of self-control, Rylan forced herself to take a step back and smooth the invisible wrinkles in her pencil skirt. Or dry her hands. Whatever, she just needed something to do with them—aside from ripping off Thrett’s clothes and touching every glorious inch of his body.

  Now that she had a little distance from him, she could see clearly how much he’d changed. She recalled his infectious, boyish smile and youthful playfulness. He’d been really cute at twenty-two, but at thirty? Devastating. A chiseled jaw with the perfect amount of facial scruff to make his face look less manicured and more…rugged lumberjack-sexy.

  The faint smile lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth indicated he still carried the same wicked sense of humor that got her into his bed. And then there was the matter of his body…

  Oh god, his body.

  No longer was he the lean, budding dragon of his youth. He’d filled out nicely, his muscles fairly bursting out of his perfectly respectable button-down. Rylan had to tear her eyes away from the outline of his biceps, the hint of his pecs and abs, the cut of his hips. If she focused too much on his bangin’ bod, as Ginette would have described it, bad things would inevitably happen. Very bad things.

  To her eternal dismay and humiliation, though, Thrett seemed able to read her mind. Maybe it was the way she kept trying to put distance between them or how she couldn’t meet his gaze without wanting to giggle like a co-ed. Clearly he knew the effect he had on her. It was like someone had thrown a time bomb into her office and locked her inside. If she didn’t tread lightly, the tension between them would explode.

  She took another step back.

  Thrett’s smile turned almost predatory as he tracked her, those hypnotizing hazel eyes catching the light in the most heart-stopping manner. Rylan had always loved those eyes, dreamed about them over the years. They drew her in, ensnared her like a rabbit in a trap.

  His stupid dragon senses could probably smell the desire wafting off her from a mile away. Whatever. So what if she thought he was hot as hell? It wasn’t like she was blind. Or a nun. No doubt every woman who ever laid eyes on the guy lusted after him. It was damn near impossible not to be into Thrett. He was everybody’s type, even when he wasn’t. And what was more, Rylan could see the very obvious signs he was still attracted to her, and she was only a lowly human. That probably wouldn’t go over well in certain dragony circles.

  Thrett crossed his thick, powerful arms over his broad chest and then jerked his head in the direction of the door without breaking eye contact. “You know, I really should call Jayme and tell her what a great kid she has.”

  Oh, yeah. Right there. That was the exact button to push. The jealousy button.

  Thank you, Thrett Lacerta.

  White-hot jealousy flared so fiercely inside Rylan’s chest it nearly knocked her flat on her ass. But years of working with children and their parents had taught her how to hide her emotions. So, instead of reacting in any visible way, she merely walked to her desk and sat down. As she did when dealing with the persistent Mr. Ratzenberger, she folded her hands on the smooth mahogany in front of her and plastered on a polite smile. She was the consummate professional at all times, even when confronted by the guy with whom she had been, quite honestly, a consummate unprofessional.

  “Shall we discuss the security plan you’re developing for the school then?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  Thrett had the audacity to look hurt for a moment before taking a seat across from her. “Gladly.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, and not just from the reprieve from sexual tension. “Thrett, I really don’t like the reports we’ve had of a van keeping tabs on the school. Word has spread like wildfire and I’m fielding calls every day, almost every hour, from concerned parents.”

  He relaxed into his chair a bit and gave her a sympathetic smile that nearly blew her panties off. “It’s probably nothing. Possibly some local thieves looking for low-hanging fruit, but even more likely nothing at all. I’m not dismissing your concerns, of course, but most of the time, these things turn out to be coincidence, nothing more.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right, but we’re not prepared to take chances. Unfortunately, my predecessor let little things like the children’s safety slide during his tenure. He wasn’t quite as hands-on as I am.”

  Thrett tilted his head to one side, frowning slightly. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been the principal here?”

  Pride swelled inside Rylan a bit, eager to show Thrett he hadn’t broken her. “About a year. Taught English here for three years before that.”

  His lip twitched at the revelation. “Wait. Are you telling me you’ve been in Los Angeles for the past four years?”

  Why did he look so hurt by that?

  She shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

  “I thought you went to school back east somewhere,” he said, his jaw muscle working overtime.

  “I did, but
I grew up here in LA. You didn’t know that?”

  “I did not know that, no,” he shook his head, angry flames dancing in his hard gaze. “But then again, I didn’t know much of anything about you. Until today.”

  Rylan frowned. He seemed upset, which was funny, considering the circumstances.

  “Right back atchya, pal,” she said smoothly.

  That only seemed to further irritate him. “Whatever,” he growled, waving a hand dismissively.

  She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Dropping the cool and collected façade, she threw her hands up in the air. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “My problem? I don’t have a problem.” He crossed his arms in a huff and glared out the window to prove his point.

  “You’re being awfully pissy about something.”

  “Am not!” he snapped like a first-grader. Only then did he deign to meet her gaze. “Even though I have the right to be.”

  “Okay, here we go,” she groaned, rolling her eyes at his dramatics.

  “You just disappeared on me, Rylan. I woke up the next morning and you were just…gone. No note. No number. Not even a goodbye. Hell, I didn’t even know your last name so I could track you down, and none of your friends would tell me anything.”

  Rylan gaped at him. Pressing her hands flat on her desk, she stood and leaned across the space separating them. “Are you kidding me? The king of one-night stands demanding to know why the woman left in the morning? Classic!”

  He launched himself to his feet and imitated her pose, glaring daggers at her. Heat rolled off his body in waves and he seemed to grow a couple of inches in the span of a heartbeat. At this point in her life, Rylan had witnessed dragons shift enough that it didn’t alarm her, though the act had never turned her on quite so much.