Fire Me Up (16 page)

The doorman took one look at Drake (black silk shirt, black
leather pants), Chuan Ren (floor-length glittery dress, split to either hip,
stilettos that could put an eye out at five paces), and Gabriel (dark khaki
pants, silver net transparent shirt bearing elaborate designs in pale green) and
almost swooned with joy. He couldn't get the door open fast enough, waving the
rest of the dragon entourage in, including Jim, without blinking an eye. The
music from the dance floor swept out and caught us up in its lithe grip, pulling
us into a smoky high-ceilinged hall filled with the standard dance club metal
pillars, crisscrossed by girders laden with pulsing laser lights arcing above
and through the mass of humanity that covered every square inch of the floor.

"Would you like to dance?" Drake asked, his breath skittering
down my spine, sinking deep into my blood.

"No, we'd like to eat. As in now." Jim didn't wait for me to
answer. It just marched off in a very determined manner to find a table.

I grimaced, then gave Drake half a smile. "Jim's a bit testy
because it missed its dinner."

"And you?" he asked, his hands sliding up my arms, his head
tipped toward mine so I could see straight into bis beautiful forest eyes. Heat
shimmered between us. "Are you testy as well?"

I gasped, looking around nervously, as his dragon fire
flickered out to lick my skin. Although we stood on the fringe of the dance
floor, the club really was packed. Most of the floor space was taken up by a
dense collection of people who bounced, swayed, and twirled in time to the low,
pulsing music, but along the outer edges small round red tables and chairs had
been scattered. Most of mose were claimed, too.

"Drake, you can't. Not here. Not where someone might notice
that you're not exactly human."

"Aisling, this club is owned by a nymph. No one will think
anything of us being here." The heat of his desire and need rippled around me,
teasing me, touching me just iong enough to awaken the fire that Drake had
started in me. which never seemed to go entirely cold.

"Oh. Well, if that's the case—" I threw myself on him. Drake
rocked backwards with the force of my body slamming into his, every last shred
of my good intentions shriveled and blown away on a wind of arousal that left me
breathless even as I sucked the air right out of his mouth. His fire roared to
life around us, through us, a shared flame that I not only embraced but
celebrated. His mouth and hands were hard on me, softening as I relaxed against
him, knowing he loved to dominate and finding little to complain about when I
let him have his way. The touch of his tongue on mine drove my temperature even
higher, his mouth a heady banquet of sensations that left my head spinning, my
body tight and aching, and my soul burning bright alongside his in an erotic
conflagration.

It wasn't until the overhead fire sprinklers turned on that I
realized that what I had assumed was only an emotion shared between us had
materialized physically. I pulled my mouth from Drake's and glanced up at the
sprinkler, then around in surprise. We stood alone, the dancers and music having
stopped, everyone giving us a wide berth. And we were on fire. No, that's not
quite accurate—we were the fire. Flames leaped up around us, as if we were
standing in the middle of a bonfire.

"Drake," I said, my eyes getting big as I watched flames lick
down my arms to him. "I'm on fire."

He nuzzled my neck. "I burn for you, as well, mate."

I blew experimentally on the fire burning merrily on my
shoulder. I couldn't feel anything other than the power of his dragon fire, but
it was extremely unnerving to see my body fully engulfed in flames. "No, I mean
I'm really on fire. Big yellow and red tlamey things on my arms." I stepped
backwards, out of his embrace, looking down at myself. "And my legs. Both of
them. They're burning, Drake. So are yours."

A woman in a spangled white and gold miniskirt pushed her way
through the watching crowd.

"Is this normal? I've felt your dragon fire before, but it's
never actually done the barbecue thing on us. Why am I not screaming in agony?
Why doesn't it hurt?"

"It is a sign of your passion, of the passion we share, a
manifestation of your true nature. My fire cannot hurt you so long as you accept
it," Drake answered before turning to greet the miniskirt. "Flavia, how lovely
you look this evening."

The woman stopped next to me, hands on her hips as she glared
up at him. She was a good foot and a half shorter than Drake, but her steely
glare packed a wallop that had me backed up a couple of steps until Drake
grabbed my arm and pulled me up close to him. "Drake Vireo! I might have known
it was you causing all this trouble. Look what you've done to my dance floor!"

I looked down, slapping at the flames creeping up my thighs.
The floor had a sooty, singed look where we had been standing.

"Do you have any idea how expensive it is to refinish this
floor? I insist that you stop showing off this mstant,"

Drake bowed and reclaimed his fire, the flames around as
dying into nothing. "Naturally I will pay for any damage my mate has caused."

"Excuse me?" I poked him in the chest. "I'm not Torchy the
Dragon, You are! Don't go blaming your lack of fire control on me."

The nymph named Flavia turned on me, giving me a furious
look. "And you—what sort of a Guardian are you who would endanger the lives of
others? You are supposed to protect people, not be so selfish that your own
needs come before the good of others. You disgust me! I spit on you!"

And she did, she spat right at my feet. Luckily I moved aside
before it could hit me. "But—but—it was his fire—I didn't do anything other than
kiss him—"

Her eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared. Her lips curled in
scorn. "You are the mate, it is you who triggers his fire. You will never again
do so in my club or I will ban you from the premises forever!"

My jaw worked soundlessly a couple of times before I turned
to Drake and tried to glare the hair right off his head. "Don't you want to say
something? Don't you want to explain that it was you who started this, not me?
Don't you want to take the responsibility for anything you do?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "What will you give me if I
do?"

"Arghr"

Drake pulled me away at that point, which was a good thing
because I was about ready to throttle him. Everything had a price with him.
Every time I needed his help, it was only available if I had something to trade
for it. The man was entirely untrustworthy, unreliable, and thoroughly
maddening. What had I been thinking to allow myself back into a position of
intimacy with him?

I fumed all the way to the table Jim had claimed. The red
dragons were in the quickly re-forming mob on the dance floor, but Gabriel and
one of his guards sat next to Jim, drinking and watching the crowd.

"
That was a dirty trick, lighting me up and making a scene,
then letting me take the rap for it without one single, solitary word of
explanation," I muttered to Drake as he held out a chair for me. I leaned into
him so the others couldn't hear. "I swear, Drake, this time we're really
through. It's over. There is no passion. There is no touching, no kissing, no
more of that mind-melting ly-fabulous sex, and no dragon fire. It's over. You
got that?"

Drake just smiled, his fire still visible in his eyes.

I growled to myself and slumped back in the chair, hungry,
tired, and angry at my own stupidity. Well, twice burned, well learned—or
however thai phrase went. This time I was serious. This time it was truly over.

Drake came to me in a dream. He'd done it before. Using some
tenuous psychic connection between us to parade his seductive self around in my
dreams, turning them into erotic experiences that left me jerking awake with my
heart racing, my skin sweaty, the taste of him still on my tongue.

Not to mention other places.

I knew the moment I dipped my toe into the warm water that I
was having a dream, one of Drake's dreams, the kind that would end up with me
more confused than ever

"This isn't going to work," I said aloud, my voice echoing
shghtly, the rustle of my clothing as it fell to the floor the only other sound.
I stood on the steps leading down into a big square pool of water, scented and
warmed so it lapped around my toes like a lover's tongue. Surrounding me were
classical white columns, the walls of the room—if there were any—hidden in
shadows, the floor of black-and-white marble cool against the soles of my feet.
Lining three sides of the pool were statues of couples locked in intimate
embraces. I couldn't see into the shadows beyond the statues, but I knew Drake
was there. I could smell him. I could feel him. He was everywhere. I stepped
into the water, shivering a little when it touched my sensitized skin. "You
can't just waltz into my mind and seduce me in a dream world because I've
rejected you in reality. I will not play this game again."

I sank deeper into the waiting embrace of the water, swimming
out to the middle of the pool, a thousand little touches lapping against my
skin, arousing me.

"Drake, I know you're there. I don't have these sorts of
dreams on my own. You're the only one who makes me feel this way, so you might
as well stop hiding and show yourself."

Beyond the edge of my vision, something moved Something
large. A breeze whirled around me, accompanied by the sound of what could only
be very large wings. I turned, treading water, trying to see into the darkness.
From the corner of my eye a sinuous green object caressed a marble column,
sliding like a snake into the darkness when my head whipped around to look at
it. Deep in the shadows a darker shape rose, a long, thin neck arching back
along a powerful body before twisting itself deeper into the darkness. "I'm not
seeing this. It's just a dream. I'm not about to be ravished by a really
gigantic four-legged scaly lizard with sexy eyes. Your eyes are still green when
you're in dragon form, aren't they, Drake?"

"Perhaps someday you will find out the answer yourself," a
voice answered. It was Drake's voice, but it wasn't—this voice was deeper, with
more resonance, a voice that seemed to fill the room.

I shivered again in the water, aroused by his nearness
despite my intentions to resist him. "Let me see you. You've never let me see your dragon form. Come out here and
let me see you. Let me see what you really look like."

The shadows moved, shifted, seemed to part as if they were as
tangible as a curtain. From the depths strode a man, long-legged, broad of
chest, hips narrow and powerful. He was also stark naked, a fact I didn't miss,
nor did I neglect looking at the part of him that was leading the way. I've
always thought the sight of a fully aroused man walking was a bit comical—the
engorged bits of flesh bobbing with the rhythm of the walk—but Drake didn't
walk. He glided. His muscles rippled in a beautiful symphony of power as he
approached, his hands relaxed at his sides, the long, thick muscles of his
thighs capturing my gaze. I loved Drake's legs. I loved the strength in them,
the ability they had to move with all the grace and power of a very large
panther.

He stopped at the edge of the pool, arrogantly male, watching
me with unreadable eyes as I lazily swam toward him. As I approached, an image
arose in my mind of his hands skimming me, touching me in all sorts of sensitive
places, stirring me until I couldn't catch my breath. "I'd tell you you're
beautiful, but you already know that, don't you? You know how much I like to
look at you. You know I want to touch you, and taste you, and feel you burning
deep inside me. You know all that, and yet you know you can never have me except
in this dreamscape."

With a swift, graceful move he dived into the water. It was
about nipple-high on him, allowing him to walk slowly to where I was still
languidly treading water. "This is your dream, Aisling. You summoned me to it."

My eyes widened in surprise. In the past, Drake had come to
me in dreams, always initiating them himself, and it had only been with practice
that I had learned how to end them despite his wishes to the contrary. But I had
never called him to me in a dream—I didn't think I knew how. "Is this some sort
of a trick? Something to make me even more confused than before? I didn't summon
you, Drake. I want you out of my life."

"You want what I represent out of your life, but if you truly
wished me gone, then you would not have called me to you tonight."

I swam around him, a need building within me to touch him, to
have him touch me, but I knew what would happen if I did. We'd have wild, fiery
dragon sex, and I'd end up torn with indecision. I hated being indecisive. I
liked my life in control. "And just what, Mr. Smarty Pants, do you think you
represent in my life?"

"
The future," he answered, standing still in the water, the
tiny waves of my wake caressing the wonderfully warm flesh of his back and
chest. I wanted to be those waves.

"Ha" I said, putting as much scorn as I could into the word.
I swam a complete circle around him and stopped to face him, just a scant foot
separating us. "I'm not afraid of the future. I'm a professional. I am in
control. I am—"