Billionaire Dragon's Mate: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Dragon Romance Nove
Read Billionaire Dragon's Mate: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Dragon Romance Nove Online
Authors: Anya Nowlan
B
ILLIONAIRE
D
RAGON’S
M
ATE
T
REASURE
L
ANE
D
RAGONS
B
OOK 2
BY
A
NYA
N
OWLAN
A TASTE OF WHAT’S TO COME…
“I’m not your sugar,” she retorted absently, receiving the shot from Joe.
He paused long enough that she had to look at him to see if he’d heard. He wasn’t paying attention at all; instead he had turned around and was leaning against the counter with his elbows, scanning the room. Ruby narrowed her eyes a little. He wasn’t just casually observing – like a bored man at a dreary bar. No, there was purpose to him. His gaze was calculating, strict, even though that twinkle of amusement in them could have fooled most onlookers.
A mystery man…
“Did you hear me?” she asked, cocking a well-groomed brow at him.
He met her gaze, and that despicable smirk was back on his lips.
“I did. I don’t agree.”
“Don’t agree with what?”
“I think you
are
my sugar, sugar. But we can argue about that later. In private. How does that sound?”
He spun around and grabbed his drink, clinking it against hers.
“I think you sound suicidal!” Ruby said, but she couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice. Hey, every court needed a daring jester, right?
“Could very well be.” They kicked back the tequila, and Ruby made a bit of a face as the bitter liquid went down.
When she looked up, he was suddenly so much closer. Ruby gasped as he leant in, smelling like a woodsy fire and black coffee. It filled her lungs, and for a crazy moment, she didn’t want it to stop.
“Get out of here while I distract them. I’ll find you,” he whispered, already receiving scalding looks from the people around them.
“Who are you?” Ruby asked, trying to find her breath again.
“Cillian. But you can call me whatever you want, sugar,” he said, grinning like a fiend.
She loved it. Next thing she knew, Cillian’s hand was on her cheek, pushing her chin up a little, and then his lips were on hers. She murmured in surprise, but the small noise quickly turned into a moan as her eyes fluttered closed and she dipped forward to meet him. His lips were so soft, like they were meant to be against hers, and the kiss they shared was flawless – no awkward bumping or teeth gnashing together. Just perfection. Like they’d been doing it forever.
Her body heated up immediately, every nerve and fiber in her screaming to get closer to him. He was wrenched away from her just as her tongue slipped into his mouth. She saw him thrown across the floor of the bar and sliding several feet until he slammed into a crowd of onlookers.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?” Cable roared, red in the face and heaving with blinding rage.
“Cable, no!” Ruby managed to yelp, jumping out of her seat.
The kiss still lingered on her lips, and her eyes met Cillian’s, who was up on his feet like a flash of lightning. He hooked brass knuckles around his fists, inclining his head towards the back exit ever so slightly before turning his attention back to Cable. He grinned like a man possessed, the bikers around him roaring for Cable to cut his head off. There was no way he was going to get out of there in one piece.
Copyright © 2015 Anya Nowlan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Billionaire Dragon’s Mate
Treasure Lane Dragons
Book 2
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of
Anya Nowlan
. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Cover ©
Jack of Covers
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
BILLIONAIRE DRAGON’S MATE EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
Cillian
Cillian Greenmeadow was not your average dragon. Sure, he had the build of one – that tall, broad-shouldered, lean but strapped with strength look they all seemed to carry, right along with the bright, always slightly amused emerald green eyes. And he may even have had the personality of one, always treating the world like it owed him one great favor, but he wasn’t really like all the rest of his dragonkin brothers.
No, he wanted more. All his life, he’d wanted more. Whatever that elusive ‘more’ was, though, he wasn’t yet completely sure, but he knew that he would recognize it when he saw it. So, it was no wonder that a dragon like Cillian would get himself tangled in just enough trouble to make life worth living again.
He sighed slightly, leaning against the red brick wall of a nameless back alley, waiting for a ragged black and gray door to open and grant him entrance to a popular club by the name of Bear It All
– surprisingly, not a strip club. He’d been staring at it for the past forty minutes, and knowing the people he was waiting for, he’d wait another forty, easy.
Plenty of time to muse over the twists and turns that had brought him here, serving someone like a common errand boy. His face contorted in a pained grimace, and he breathed out a breath of pure smoke, the gray, wispy tendrils wafting up in the cool night air. It was the next best thing to smoking – letting his fire warm his belly and the smoke curl out in those tantalizing puffs.
How did you get yourself here, Cillian? Father would be mighty pissed,
he thought to himself, grinning slightly.
That might have been half the victory – pissing off his long lost father – or at least a sizeable side-bonus.
One thing was for sure, no dragon was supposed to
wait
on someone. Yet, Cillian had found himself doing just that more and more often as of late. It came with the job. Of course, that was another thing no dragon was really supposed to do – have a job. Unless that job included hoarding up more gold and lording over its estates.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and while Cillian Greenmeadow couldn’t be considered a beggar by any stretch of the human imagination, he may as well have been one as far as dragons went. Just the thought of his half-empty hoard made him snort with annoyance, sending choice words to his beloved forefathers for their ‘excellent’ money management skills. Cillian thrust his hands into his pockets, the laughter seeping out of his eyes.
There were few things he couldn’t make light of, but his family’s precarious state was certainly one of them. The coffers that held their fortune had been in decline for generations now, and it had become a tradition to hide the severity of the situation from the next in line. So, when Cillian’s father Cedric Greenmeadow passed, Cillian, as the eldest of the four brothers left behind, got the chance to truly know what desperation felt. After seeing the hoard, his father’s declining mood and bouts of undragonlike depression made a lot more sense.
Thankfully for Cillian, he wasn’t the type to just mope around until the world started making sense again. He was a doer, not a thinker, which smoothly led back to why it was so god damn frustrating to just stand around and do nothing. His declining wealth was not the only thing clamoring for his attention, and frankly the less time he spent on thinking about his issues, the better. The door finally opened just when he was seconds from calling it quits and stalking off to find some nice aged bourbon. He didn’t bother hiding the relieved smile that perched on his lips as he pushed himself off the wall and walked into the building, the door closing right behind him without anyone to man it.
Must be electrical,
he mused absently, taking in his surroundings with pointed efficiency as he strolled down the barely lit corridor towards a larger room in the back.
When he emerged from the dark tunnel, he found himself under an awning in a crowded nightclub, just on the right side of the VIP gate.
Putting on his best smile, he nodded to the bouncer (a werebear, no doubt) and hopped up the few flights of stairs that led to a balcony overlooking the hot, crowded dance floor.
“Cillian! My brother!” a gruff voice called, a big, meaty paw of a hand waving at him from a booth further in the back.
Cillian crossed over to the familiar voice, and when he came to the table, he was immediately grabbed in what could only be described as a bear hug from the biggest man in the world. His own 6’6’’ frame seemed almost small next to the lumbering barrel of a man
.
“
Здравствуйте!
Как поживаешь?“ the man greeted, patting him on the back so hard that Cillian had to put considerable effort into not tumbling face-first into the table.
