The Alpha Dragon's Protection (Dragon Shifters 0f Kahului Book 4) Page 6

  Carrie swallowed hard, entranced by him. “You have to move,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “I’ll do anything for you, Carrie, but I will not do that.”

  “You’re violating my privacy,” she insisted.

  Edvard reached down for her hand and tugged her forward. “I am outside and you will be inside. I cannot see in your windows, nor hear what you are doing. I am merely camped in your yard to keep anyone with ill intent out.”

  She frowned up at him. “I don't like it.”

  He leaned down so close their noses almost touched. “I do not care.” With one final tug of her hand, Carrie fell into Edvard’s arms. He pulled her tight against him and swept his lips against hers. Once, twice. She opened like a blossom against him and he sighed his approval against her mouth as he claimed her lips.

  He was cool and warm and fire against her skin. Her fingers moved up to touch his hair, his face, his neck, everywhere. She realized as her fingers trailed against his skin how very much she’d missed touching someone. Anyone.

  But especially him.

  6

  Edvard

  Edvard skipped sleeping in the tent to enjoy the stars. He lay on his back, the air crisp and clean, and stared up at the night sky. He enjoyed Carrie’s home more than Daegal’s. It was out of the way, no cars, no extra lights, the only people being him and Carrie. He could look up at the night sky and count out all the stars. Even with a fire going, the stars would still be visible. Tonight was cloudless, and he’d chosen to sleep without the benefit of a fire. Hawaii was temperate all the time, and his body could handle most climate changes thrown at it.

  His mind whirled with the possibility of Carrie. Tonight was the first time he’d ever laid his hands on her for anything other than a gentle, guiding touch. It was so much more than he expected, and he’d been expecting a lot.

  When he saw her pound downstairs in bare feet with fire blazing in her eyes, he knew he had to kiss her, to taste her, to try to see if maybe living with a woman he didn’t have a mating bond with would be worth it.

  The answer exploded behind his eyes as soon as he touched his lips to hers. He still didn’t understand the lack of it. Had something gone awry? Was it his fault there was no bond between them? Something had to be wrong because after tonight, he couldn’t imagine his life without the feisty blonde.

  Edvard glanced up at Carrie’s treehouse, content to see most of the lights were off. There was one light in the hallway visible, probably for when she woke up in the morning. It hadn’t been easy for her to get electricity out here and she was careful with her use of it. Carrie tried her best to live as naturally as possible and this included being careful with her resources. The greenhouse they’d built stood to the side of him, still empty. She’d been busy installing shelves inside of it. Outside of the door lay bags and bags of potting soil and various tools to help her finish setting it up and start planting.

  She wanted to grow food, but Edvard wanted to grow flowers. He would ask her tomorrow if she could help him plant. He liked the kind that spilled over the pots and trailed down.

  Pansies, Carrie once told him.

  Edvard fell asleep with a smile on his face and a picture of Carrie in his mind.

  * * *

  Something moved around the perimeter of Carrie’s home. His eyes popped open instantly, and he lay as still as a cat on the hunt. He couldn’t give himself away. If they got too close, it was possible they’d realize he was laying there, but it was pitch dark out here. With any luck, they’d stumble right over him and he could take them down without breaking a sweat.

  The person outside made nary a sound; only the occasional break of a twig allowed Edvard to follow their trail. Of course, to a dragon, even a single sound made it seem like a dying whale was thrashing around in the bush. He knew exactly where the predator was. If he kept walking around the perimeter, Edvard would get up and find him.

  A few moments later, the sound of the man retreating had him up and on his feet. Few knew Carrie lived here, and he would sense if one of the dragons were around. Also, they wouldn’t hide their presence. Edvard slipped out from underneath his sleeping bag and quietly stepped into the forest. His breath was quiet, his footfalls silent. Edvard scanned the area, his vision as clear as if it were daylight. Signs of the intruder’s presence were everywhere. Disturbed brush, snapped twigs and a large footprint depressed in the soft dirt close to the edge of Carrie’s property.

  The scent of something acrid and harsh hit Edvard’s nose. He stopped, still as a statue, and tried to define it. Whoever it was smelled like old anger and cigarettes. His brows drew together. This person held a lot of hatred and it manifested physically. His gaze turned back to Carrie’s home and a thoughtful expression lit his face.

  Did this man know Carrie? If he did, why was he sneaking around instead of coming right up to her door? Was the hatred reserved for her or was he just a hateful individual? Edvard didn’t know, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. He tensed and sprang into a run.

  He flew through the forest, silent as a cat, his gaze scanning through the brush in an attempt to find whoever this was. Moments later, he was at the edge of the forest, but he couldn’t find anyone. He turned around and looked through the brush again, but whoever it was had managed to elude him.

  Perhaps Edvard should have gotten up immediately and followed him. It wasn't Ludovic. The smell was different and he could tell it was a human.

  Disconcerted, Edvard headed back to his camp right in front of her house. He lay back down in his sleeping bag, but sleep would not come. His ears were tuned in to any sound out of the ordinary and his eyes continually scanned the edges of the property for anyone or anything that didn’t belong here.

  The person here tonight meant her harm. He could feel it in his bones.

  * * *

  The next morning, Edvard sat alone, carefully folding up his sleeping bag and making sure he’d zipped it up properly in the bag so he wouldn’t have to shake any creepy crawlies out of it later.

  The door to Carrie’s home opened and within seconds he could smell that glorious black brew Carrie and the other humans loved so much. Edvard knew it was a stimulant and he shouldn’t enjoy it as much as he did, but he couldn’t help it. He preferred to take it black, but sometimes Carrie would make it in what she called a Vietnamese style and he would drink three cups of it.

  She padded down the stairs in slippered feet and handed him a cup – this time with nothing extra in it. Carrie held her mug up to her nose and inhaled. Her blonde hair was messy around her head, and she still wore the same pajamas, but this time she had a robe tied loosely around her. Her amber eyes were tired but happy.

  He relaxed as soon as he took the mug from her. She was okay. He knew she was, but it helped seeing her walking around out here. After he finished his brew, he planned to tell her what happened.

  The morning sun glinted off her hair, making it look like cream. Carrie never used artificial dyes on her hair like many of the humans did, but he had no idea how her hair was so naturally pale.

  She smiled at him, sending his heart racing. The light spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose wrinkled adorably.

  Edvard felt himself charmed, enraptured by her.

  “How was your night?” she asked.

  “I fared well,” he said. “And yours?”

  Carrie stretched like a cat, causing her robe to fall off one shoulder, exposing tanned, golden skin. “I slept like a baby. Would you like to come in for breakfast?”

  “I would. Do you have bacon?” Edvard asked as he began to follow her inside.

  “Do dragons pee in the ocean?” she quipped.

  Edvard's booming laugh caused Carrie to snort which made him laugh harder. She opened the door and held it for him to walk in.

  Edvard inhaled the uniquely Carrie scent of her home and followed her to the kitchen. The bacon was laid out perfectly on a large rack sat on top of a cooking sheet. He liked
the way she made bacon more than Sara. Sara cooked hers in a pan and the grease sat on top of it. Carrie’s way let all the grease drip into the bottom, so he could just pluck the strip off of the rack and crunch on it.

  As far as he was concerned, everything she did was better. He settled himself into a stool at the bar and watched her graceful movements, his eyes drinking in everything about her. Even the way she whisked eggs was no nonsense and yet captivating to watch.

  Once Carrie had put the bacon in and gotten the egg mix ready to pour, she picked up the coffee pot and refreshed Edvard’s drink.

  “I need to tell you something,” he started.

  Carrie's face immediately went wary. She turned away from him and set the coffee pot back on its stand.

  “Yes?”

  “Last night when I was outside, I heard something.”

  Her shoulders tensed and her entire body went on alert. Edvard watched this with narrowed eyes. She suspected who it was, he knew it.

  “It was Ludovic, I'm sure,” she scoffed and turned around. Her face was carefully blank, but her eyes burned with fear.

  He slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid it wasn’t. I've never scented this person before. I do know it was male. His footfalls were large, so I’d place him around six foot tall."

  Carrie’s hand shook as she picked up the whisk and began to beat the eggs again. “Would you like to learn how to make scrambled eggs?” she asked, her throat thick.

  Edvard fell silent as he watched her. Fear lengthened her spine. Her jaw was set tight and her eyes were fixed on one point – the damned eggs.

  “Carrie?” He set his mug down on top of the bar.

  “Or I can show you how to make that bacon. I know how much you like it.”

  “I don’t care about breakfast right now. Tell me what’s wrong.” Edvard moved to stand, but Carrie held a hand up.

  Terror was evident in every line of her body. Edvard slowly sat back down. Every instinct in him screamed to go to her, but the way she held herself... He was afraid if he touched her, he would make it worse.

  Something happened to Carrie. If it had anything to do with the man prowling around her home last night, Edvard was going to find him and rip him to pieces.

  7

  Carrie

  Breathe. Breathe, she repeated to herself over and over, even as she fought to keep a smile on her face. If she could convince Edvard to learn how to make these eggs, then maybe he would stop asking questions. She couldn’t talk about it. Wouldn’t.

  Her lungs kept inhaling air. She kept exhaling. The world hadn’t shattered around her. Edvard was there. A warm and comforting presence. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if he touched her right now. She wanted him to, but she also hoped he kept his distance.

  It had to be him. The day she’d been dreading for the past several years had arrived. She let out a slow breath as her brain scrambled to realize she was safe. Right here. Edvard would protect her.

  If someone discerning looked hard enough into her background, they might notice she didn’t exist until a couple of years ago. Her social security card looked brand new – uncommon unless it was a replacement or a young person’s. Her driver’s license had the wrong address on it – on purpose, just in case someone hacked into the DMV. According to it, Carrie Kincade lived in New Hampshire and was an organ donor.

  If you searched online, Carrie Kincade was the owner of two pugs, a paid-off Volvo, and she was involved in her church group. The Carrie Kincade on paper really did live in New Hampshire and really did own two pugs.

  But it wasn’t her. She had to pay dearly for someone to funnel all of that info to the faux Carrie Kincade (or the real one depending on who you asked), but it was worth it. In Hawaii, she was a ghost to everyone but her friends. But even her friends knew her only as Carrie. They didn’t see the darkness she carried in her heart. She didn’t think they noticed the way she flinched from a loud noise. If they did, they chose to look the other way and let her keep her secrets.

  But she could tell from the way she caught Edvard staring at her on occasion that he knew about the darkness in her heart. She knew because Edvard appeared to be carrying a similar darkness.

  She hoped he would understand when she didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Carrie,” Edvard said again, his voice a balm against her wounded heart.

  She cleared her throat. “So sorry. I just blanked out there for a moment. The bacon is almost ready!” Her voice was cheery and chirpy, and she didn’t sound at all like she was totally freaked out.

  Edvard was too smart to buy it, though. He”d sat back down but she could tell he didn’t like it.

  “Would you like me to take the pan out of the oven?” he asked, giving her a reprieve from his prying.

  She shut her eyes for a brief moment. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Edvard got up, rummaged through the kitchen drawers for a potholder and she stepped out of the way to give him access to the oven. As soon as he set the hot pan on the back of the stove, she turned on the burner and started to cook their eggs. Both of them were silent, Carrie trying to swallow the fear down, and Edvard contemplative and broody.

  Their breakfast was eating mostly in silence. Edvard tried a couple of times to make conversation, but Carrie wasn’t up for it. Eventually, he fell silent and just ate.

  When he finished, he carried his plate to the kitchen, rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher. A wan smile ghosted over her face as she realized what he was doing. Edvard was a gentleman through and through.

  When he passed by her, he put a warm hand on her shoulder. Carrie put her hand on top of his. “Whatever it is, I will protect you. There is little more powerful than me and my brothers.”

  He wasn't being egotistical, merely stating a fact. She nodded, swallowed hard and patted his hand. Edvard stepped out of her home and left her sitting alone in her kitchen.

  She must have been there for at least ten minutes before she got up and grabbed her cell phone. Dialing a number she knew by heart, she whispered a prayer that this was all some giant misunderstanding.

  “Hart and Blake,” a jolly voice chirped into the phone.

  “Yes, this is Carrie Kincade. I'm trying to reach Anthony Hart. Could you put me through to him?”

  “Of course, dear. Let me get him for you.”

  Elevator music came over the line while Carrie tapped her nails on the wooden bar.

  “Carrie?” Anthony answered a few seconds later. “Everything okay?”

  He was the only one who knew the extent she’d gone to get away from her ex. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Last night, someone was prowling around here. It’s a brand new house, so he shouldn’t have gotten wind of it.” She sighed. “I’m calling to make sure nothing...weird happened. Where is he?”

  The sound of tapping came over the line. “I don’t see anything strange. He’s still in the States, specifically Alabama. I don’t see any evidence of large withdrawals or airline tickets. From everything I can see, he hasn’t left the state."

  Carrie was too scared to breathe easier. She knew Caleb, and she knew the lengths he would go to to get her back. “Are you sure?”

  Anthony's voice turned calm and soothing. “We have alerts set up on everything. If we even got a hint he wasn’t there anymore, we’d let you know. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. If we do, I’ll be sure to call.”

  “What about his car?” she whispered. She’d illegally put a tracking device on it before she left him, just so she could keep tabs on him. She could check it remotely but hadn’t had the chance to this morning.

  “Hmm,” her attorney said. He tapped some more on the keys. “Looks like that vehicle was sold a month or two ago. You should be able to deactivate the GPS on it.”

  “You didn’t think selling his vehicle was enough to tip me off?” Carrie put her other hand in her lap to stop it from trembling.

  Anthony sighed. “Things like that occur in day-to-day business. We
didn’t see anything shady with the deal, so we didn’t alert you. I think maybe last night was just a weird fluke.”

  She didn't believe in flukes. Nor did she believe in coincidences. “I’m paying you extremely well to notify me of his movements. What if this turns out to be Caleb?”

  “We will cross that bridge when we come to it. I really don’t think that’s the case.”

  “Famous last words, Anthony,” she said right before she clicked off the line. Selling his vehicle wasn’t a crime, but it was concerning. He’d had that thing for years before he met her and swore to her he’d never sell his baby. He meant it too. Caleb was good with cars and all things mechanical, so anything that went wrong with it, he could fix.

  She went to her bedroom and knelt down on the floor of her closet. With shaking hands, she pulled one of the floorboards loose and pulled out a plastic baggie. Inside were her real passport, her driver’s license, her real birth certificate and social security card. There was also a burner phone she never used. As soon as she did use them, she destroyed them and went down to the store to buy a new one. Pulling this one out, she punched in the number to the one person she missed the most: her sister, Lia.

  Her sister answered on the first ring. “Carrie?” she whispered. “Oh my God, say it’s you, please.”

  “It’s me,” Carrie whispered, having no idea why she was whispering. She was alone in her home.

  “Thank you so much for calling.” Lia’s voice sounded full of tears. “I miss you so much.”

  Lia was back home in Wyoming. They only talked a few times a year, but Lia knew the Hawaii area code and almost always knew when she was calling. Their parents and Lia all had permanent restraining orders against Caleb, so he hightailed it out of the state. He was wiley when it came to things like that. He wouldn’t break the order for anyone in her family, but she knew he’d break it for her.