Light My Fire (12 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Dana critically eyed the beginnings of the watercolor in front of her. She sighed, tapping the pointed end of her fan brush against her lips. “This isn’t right at all.” Rolling her neck, she listened to her strained tendons pop and crack and took it as a sign that she needed a break. She plopped the brush into the mason jar of water and lifted from her artist’s stool.

Abandoning her office studio, she ventured down the hall to the living room. Jace was sprawled on the couch, enjoying a head massage courtesy of Ms. Whiskers’ kneading paws.

Dana bit back a grin. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Your cat gives a mean shiatsu. You should consider hiring her out.”

She sat on the arm of the couch and rested her chin in her hand before slumping in dejection. “Well, at least one of us has a marketable talent.”

Jace’s dark eyebrows slashed toward the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about? You’re an amazing artist.”

“Not today apparently.”

“Your muse isn’t cooperating?”

She shook her head. “Fickle wench is probably on vacation, sipping piña coladas on the beach with half-naked cabana boys.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Jace picked up Ms. Whiskers and carefully placed her on the floor. He swung his legs from the couch cushions and heaved his massive frame to a standing position. With a sinuous twist, he stretched his torso, working the kinks from his massive shoulders. He’d yet to put a shirt on, so his golden skin and rippling muscles were showcased in dazzling display. Dana checked her chin for drool.

Jace stopped twisting and grinned at her. “Where’s this masterpiece in the making?”

“In my studio. Why?”

“I’m going to offer you my expert opinion.”

Blinking, she hopped from the couch’s arm. “Oy, you’re an art connoisseur now?”

“Baby, I’ve always been a connoisseur. I have
Dogs Playing Poker
hanging in a place of pride behind my La-Z-Boy recliner.”

She rolled her eyes and trailed after him down the hall to her studio. He sauntered to her easel and inspected the unfinished watercolor while she lingered in the doorway. It always made her nervous showing off a new creation. The doubts never failed to set in.

Would he think she was a hack? Or, dear God, break down and laugh at her weird, fanciful imagination?

Jace silently stroked his chin and the butterflies fluttering in her tummy turned into full-scale kamikaze dive bombers. Finally he put her out of her misery by glancing over his shoulder at her. “I don’t understand what’s got you riled. This is terrific.”

Despite the voice of logic reminding her that the assessment came from a dragon who owned
Dogs Playing Poker
, a warm glow still managed to wrap her in a happy embrace. “I’m not done with it yet.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t see the potential. And, baby, it’s sure as shit there.”

“I don’t know.” She stepped into the room and peered at the scene she’d started on the canvas of a regal dragon bowing before his princess. “It isn’t precisely how I envisioned it. The colors aren’t right. Or maybe it’s the shape of the scales.” She rubbed her forehead wearily. “Or maybe it’s just me, and I suck donkey balls.”

“Quit beating yourself up.” Jace cocked his head to the side. “I’m pretty damn sure the majority of people have never seen an actual dragon scale before. How the hell are they going to know if you get it wrong?”

“Oh man, I
did
get it wrong?”

Jace sent a longing look toward the exit. “I…uh…no, not exactly.”

“It’s okay. You can give it to me straight.”

“Well, if you want to get technical about it, our scales have a bit more sheen to them.” He scratched his jaw. “And we also have ears. It’d be kinda hard to hear if we didn’t.”

Returning her scrutiny to the painting, she giggled when she noticed her mistake. “Sorry, that was unintentional.”

“Ah.” Jace nodded in understanding.

She stared at his handsome profile, a germ of an idea sprouting. Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she plunked her rear end on the corner of the artist stool.

Jace’s expression turned apprehensive. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re a dragon.”

“Yeah…” An invisible question mark sat suspended at the end of his statement.

“So I can use you as a model.”

He wrinkled his nose before his eyes suddenly flared wide in horror. “Oh fuck, you mean like Fabio?”

Holding back a snicker, she tucked her bare foot onto the stool’s bottom rung. “Hate to break it to you, but you need to dye your hair blond and grow it out about a foot before you’ll be a dead ringer for Fabio.”

“Thank Jesus for that.”

She hopped down from the stool and circled him, excitement putting a bounce in her step. “Will you do it?”

He shrugged. “Sure, what the hell.”

Clapping her hands with glee, she danced a little jig. Jace’s eyes sparkled with appreciation as they dipped toward her breasts jouncing beneath the low, scooped neckline of her pink top. “Sweetness, if I knew I’d get this kind of reaction from you, I would have offered to show you my beastie a long time ago.”

A flush of heat crept across her cheeks. She snatched the canvas and bobbed her chin toward the easel. “Do you think you can carry that for me? I figure we better do this outside. I doubt my homeowner’s insurance covers dragons tearing through my roof.”

“No problem.” He stepped around her and easily lifted the easel. “Front yard or back?”

“Best stick to the back. The trees ringing the driveway provide good screening, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Clutching the canvas, she scurried ahead of him in order to get the door. Once outside, she led the way behind the house and pointed to a level patch of lawn. “You can set it down there.”

He dutifully obeyed and she placed the canvas on the easel before rushing inside to gather brushes, paint, and a folding TV tray. When she returned to the backyard she found Jace standing on an unzipped sleeping bag.

Buck naked.

The TV tray slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. Swallowing hard, she gawked at the blatant gorgeousness of Jace Fortune. He was, in a word, enormous. Everywhere. Her attention remained riveted on his cock.
Oh yeah. Everywhere
. She’d wondered how identical he and Aiden really were. There was her answer, growing stiff in the breeze.

“Sorry if I shocked you.” He slid on a smile that looked anything but apologetic. “It’s a lot easier shifting if I don’t have clothes to worry about.”

She nodded dumbly. “O-of course. I don’t know why I didn’t consider that before.” Bending at the waist, she fumbled for the tray with her free hand. The wooden legs clanked together, almost trapping her index finger in the hinge. Mumbling a string of obscenities that would have earned a mouthful of soap from Emmaline, she positioned the table and arranged the brushes on its surface. All the while she tried her damnedest not to let her gaze stray to his cock.

Her lack of self-control threatening to drive her insane, she wagged a hand toward Jace and stared blindly at the tube of paints neatly aligned on the tray. “Err…you can shift whenever you’re ready.”

“Okey-dokey.”

Jace’s tone held so much amusement she couldn’t resist glancing his way. A golden luminescence shimmered over his skin. The sight was so wondrous and spellbinding she found herself hypnotized, no longer concerned with gaping at his privates.

Smoke began billowing from his nostrils, growing in density until a thick cloud completely obscured him. The smoke lifted and expanded, ascending higher than the tops of the blue spruces.

From the pillar of smoke, a gleaming, scaled mass started to emerge. A strong breeze whooshed through, dispersing the cloud into the atmosphere and revealing a fourteen-foot golden dragon standing in her backyard.

Dana’s mouth dropped open. The brief glimpse Jace had given her four days ago of his Drakoni form didn’t prepare her for seeing it—
him
—in his full glory.

“What do you think?”

A shriek popped from her throat. Eyes wide, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Jace’s reptilian countenance adopted a frown.

Good Lord, who knew dragons could frown
? Uncovering her mouth, she gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to speak.”

Jace stared at her before shaking his bulky head, causing the ruff of scales adorning his long neck to undulate gracefully. “I’m standing here in my dragon suit and you scream because I can
talk
?”

“Well duh. I thought only Harvey from
The Dragon Gang Show
could vocalize.”

“Oh Jesus. Don’t ever compare us to that purple fruitcake.”

Her lips twitched. “Hmm, I take it he rates even lower on the dragon respectability scale than Fabio?”

“Fuck yeah.”

She chuckled and approached Jace until she stood directly in front of him. Craning her neck, she scoped his entire length. “You’re beautiful.”

The nostrils topping his dragon snout flared with what she suspected was deep affront. “
Beautiful
? Baby, I’m a lean, mean, smoke-blowing machine. The proper term for me is fierce. Or Sir Sexy Dragon. Take your pick.”

She bit her lip to keep from cracking up but failed in her efforts.

Jace crossed his arms in front of him, his black claw tips clicking together. “Do I detect a mocking note in your hysterical laughter?”

Attempting to adopt a level of somberness, she shook her head. “Not at all.”

Up close, his scales positively shined. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sheen these puppies generate.” She started to reach out and satisfy her curiosity regarding their texture but halted in mid-stretch.

“Go ahead and touch me. I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” Hesitantly, she ran her fingertips along the plate of scales covering his thigh. “They’re smoother than I thought they’d be.”

“I exfoliate regularly.”

Another chuckle escaped her. “You must spend a small fortune on moisturizers.” Stepping back, she made a twirling motion with her finger. “Let me see the rest of you.”

Sidling sideways, he flicked his tail and the barbed end whomped against the ground. The disturbance kicked up a flurry of dried leaves.

“Very—” She stopped before accidentally uttering the dreaded word. “Handsome.”

Jace planted a talon on his hip. “Are you certain this tail doesn’t make my ass look huge?”

She grinned. “No, and I’m sure your svelte shape is envied by all the other dragons.”

“Sweetness, you really know how to stroke a beast’s ego. Speaking of stroking, feel free to grope any of my body parts that might rise to the occasion.”

If he’d had eyebrows, she was pretty certain they’d be waggling lecherously. Rolling her eyes, she returned to the easel. “Can you manage to behave for the next half hour or so?”

“Probably not.”

“Try.” She picked up the tube of yellow watercolor paint and squeezed a dollop onto the palette before mixing in a touch of burnt umber until the tint resembled the same golden brilliance of Jace’s scales.

For the next twenty minutes she alternated between hysterics and the strong desire to strangle Jace as he did his best job of hamming it up. When he struck a classic Mr. Universe pose and flopped out his gut she tossed down her paintbrush. “Would you stop it?”

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re impossible.”

The crunch of gravel came from the front of the house and she tensed. Jace held up his talon. “Relax, it’s only Aiden.” He shrugged in response to her questioning look. “I recognize the sound of the Navigator’s engine.”

She gaped at him. “I can’t even
hear
the engine.”

“My senses are about a thousand times more acute than yours, sweetness.”

“Not that I doubt you, but I’m checking anyway.” She swung toward the side of the house just as Aiden came storming around the corner. Stopping dead still, she blinked at the ferociousness of both Aiden’s expression and his speed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He aimed the thunderous question at Jace.

“We’re reenacting a scene from
Godzilla
. I was about to kick Mothra’s ass.”

Aiden didn’t look amused. If anything, he looked like he was two seconds away from kicking
Jace’s
ass. “Did it occur to you that someone other than me might have come down the driveway and noticed your Godzilla impression?”

“Dude, take a chill pill. I would have sensed them coming, just like you sensed me in my form. Why the hell do you think we’re in the backyard? I’m not a total moron.”

“That’s debatable.” Gritting his teeth, Aiden shifted his focus to Dana. His features softened marginally—until he noticed the easel parked behind her. “You’re
painting
him?”

“I wasn’t getting the scales quite right, and there was your brother, the perfect model.” She noticed the tic in Aiden’s jaw and hurried to diffuse the situation. “Please don’t be angry with Jace. It was my idea for him to pose.”