CHAPTER SEVEN
A few minutes later, Granny Ivana was speaking in rapid-fire Russian with her friend, Nikita, back in Kamchatka. Peter was listening intently, so Mellie didn’t bother him to ask for a translation. She just tried to sit quietly and be as patient as possible while, inside, she was in a turmoil of curiosity.
To give herself something to do, Mellie went back to the table that they’d recently vacated in favor of the living room area and its phone, and started to clean up the dinner dishes. She stacked them as quietly as possible and brought them to the sink, going about the routine chores in an effort to calm her nerves. When she heard the phone receiver click down into the cradle, she spun around, unable to contain her excitement, but Granny Ivana’s expression gave no clues about the outcome of her phone call.
“Well?” Mellie demanded of Peter. He glanced back to his grandmother.
“Nikita’s last knowledge of his whereabouts ends in Italy,” Granny Ivana revealed.
“Italy!” Mellie’s mind raced with ideas. “We can call Nonna. She has really good contacts there.”
Granny Ivana offered the phone to Mellie, but she demurred, pulling her cell from her pocketbook instead. “I have Nonna’s number programmed in here, and she’ll know it’s me calling from this number,” Mellie explained, even as she connected the call.
Nonna didn’t seem surprised by Mellie’s call, though Mellie felt some satisfaction at being able to ask for something Nonna hadn’t anticipated. Good granny that she was, though, she readily agreed to call her friends in Italy as soon as possible. Mellie then handed the phone to Granny Ivana so she could pass on the details firsthand.
Mellie and Peter shared a wide-eyed look when the two grandmothers were speaking. It sure sounded as if they were old friends, and when the conversation went from English to Italian, Mellie was astonished to learn that Granny Ivana had spent time in Turin and Parma during her long life and still spoke the language very well indeed.
Granny Ivana ended the call and handed the silent phone back to Mellie with a broad smile. “Very sensible woman, your nonna,” Granny complimented. “I should like to meet her in person one day.”
“We’ve been asking her to come up for a visit to see the shop and the town, but she claims the time isn’t right yet,” Mellie said. “Urse thinks I have to do my part to protect the place first, and only then, will Nonna come. Nothing like a little more pressure, right?” Mellie gave a nervous laugh as she put her phone away.
“Try not to stress about it, vnuchka. What will be, will be. Worrying about it cannot help,” Granny Ivana said. Mellie knew just enough Russian to be charmed that Granny Ivana had called her granddaughter. “Now, let me tell you a few things about dragons, should your nonna succeed. You will have to approach cautiously. Dragons are not like us cuddly bears. They are secretive and deadly.”
Mellie sobered immediately. This woman had actually known a dragon shifter. She, and her grandson, were related to a dragon shifter. They were as close as Mellie had ever come to a dragon, and she would take any advice she could get.
They sat in the living room, sipping coffee and watching while Peter stoked the fire in the fireplace. Granny Ivana held court.
“My grandfather was a dragon. Bartolomeo was his name. He was Italian, which was why I traveled to that country in my youth, to try to track down his people, but I had no success.”
“Wait a minute. My great-grandfather was Italian?” Peter asked, coming over to sit next to Mellie on the couch.
“You didn’t know?” Mellie blurted out, unable to help herself.
In her family, lineage was everything. Even though the strega gift was passed down through the female line, she knew as much about her paternal ancestors as she could. It seemed impossible to her that Peter wouldn’t know such a crucial fact as the origins of his ancestors.
“It’s not his fault.” Granny Ivana was quick to come to her grandson’s defense. “We don’t talk much about the dragon. Only that he existed, and only in strict confidence. Dragons were hunted long before the Destroyer made killing them into a sport. Bartolomeo was one of very few dragons in the world during his time, and for the most part, he hid his nature from everyone but those closest to him. When he came to Kamchatka, he found his mate in my grandmother, Nadia, but he also found acceptance among our people in a place that few humans ever visited. Kamchatka, even to this day, is sparsely populated, and way back when Bartolomeo and Nadia lived there, it was even quieter. He could fly when he wished and not worry about being hunted. The entire Clan was on his side, protecting him and his secret. The secret of our family. It is not something we speak of often, even among ourselves.”
Mellie realized the gift Granny Ivana was giving her in telling her all this. “I will never speak of your ancestors or your family to anyone but Peter or yourself, Granny. This I swear.” Mellie put a little charge of magic into her oath that Granny Ivana and Peter could probably scent, being highly magical bears themselves.
Granny Ivana nodded with satisfaction. “I believe you, which is why I speak of these things. Also, I think you need to know this in order to complete your task and help make my grandson, his chosen comrades, and all those that come under their protection safe from the evil in the sea.”
Mellie nodded respectfully. Granny Ivana truly did understand all that was at stake here and was being incredibly gracious. She went on at length, describing the quirks of her grandfather and the things that would upset him. She also talked about his need to fly and how he did so without attracting unwanted attention.
“Dragons are more mobile than almost any other shifter,” Granny Ivana told her. “They can cover more ground in less time than any bird shifter and fly higher than any other creature. Bartolomeo was born in Italy but had travelled the world before finding Nadia. That she was of Kamchatka worked out well for him because of the isolation and the protective nature of our Clan. They welcomed him into the Clan and protected his secret.”
Mellie was hanging on every word. This was a woman who had actually known a real live dragon shifter. She had experience and knowledge that could be invaluable to Mellie in her quest to find that final ingredient.
It wasn’t just an ingredient she was after. It wasn’t like finding an herb in the forest and picking it at exactly the right moment. No, this substance had to be obtained directly from a living, thinking, feeling, possibly elusive creature. A person with ideas and demands of their own. Mellie would have to deal with that person in both human and dragon form, if she was to complete her task.
Knowing as much as she could about dragon shifters and their quirks as possible might prove vital. Granny Ivana’s willingness to help prepare her for a possible encounter with a dragon shifter—and especially her helpfulness in trying to track one down—was an amazing gift. Mellie had already decided to like Peter’s grandmother, but now, she was coming to respect and admire her, as well.
“Dragons have never had an easy time of it in the mortal world,” Granny Ivana went on. “They’re so big and scary.” She laughed at her own description. “Of course, people say that about us, too, but we’re not so visible, stalking in the woods, as they are flying high above in the sky. They’re very vulnerable until they achieve a certain height, or can find cloud cover to hide behind. On land, they are immense in comparison to most creatures. Very hard to hide, which is why, I think, they enjoy cave systems so much.”
“Have they always been hunted?” Peter asked.
“As far back as I know, yes,” Granny Ivana confirmed. “Although, there are legends, even among humans, about the time when they were friends and comrades with kings and mages alike. The legend of Merlin and Arthur comes to mind, and there are other stories from the east of dragons transporting emperors in China and elsewhere. Dragon sages and mages.”
Mellie’s imagination had been captured by the tales of Camelot, Arthur and Merlin when she was a young girl. The idea that the dragons in the old stories might actually have been real was like something out of a fairytale. Magical and unexpected. She felt almost giddy at the prospect of meeting such a mysterious being. Excited and, at the same time, scared to death. Dragons devoured young maidens, didn’t they?
“I don’t know what kind of dragon we may find in this day and age. They have not had it easy for the past few centuries. It would be wise to approach with caution and utmost respect for the fact that he is more deadly than any other shifter in existence. Peter,” Granny Ivana spoke to her grandson, “you must go with her if she finds the dragon. You must protect her. We Kamchatka have great magic of our own, and you have dragon blood. You might be the only thing that can stand between her and an enraged dragon for any length of time.”
Peter nodded, his face deathly serious. “I will not let her out of my sight should we encounter a dragon.”
“Good.” Granny Ivana rose, signaling the end of their conversation. “Now, take the girl home and see that she is safe before you return. I will not wait up.” Granny sent Mellie a teasing wink and walked out of the living room toward the back of the house where Mellie guessed the bedrooms were located.
Just like that, she and Peter were alone. She looked at him, eyebrows raised in question. “I guess that’s that, then.” She chuckled as he did.
“Babushka is used to being the Alpha female in all things. She can be abrupt, but as you see, every action is made with love,” Peter told her as they rose and headed toward the coat rack by the door. “I suspect she left us alone so that we might talk without her influence. She knows how big her presence is and how she becomes the center of attention wherever she is. It is a power she wields wisely and with compassion.”
Peter helped Mellie into her coat and then ushered her out the door and back into his truck. They drove away from the house, making small talk.
“I really enjoyed dinner, and your grandmother is incredible,” Mellie said, watching the trees go by in the dark night. Peter’s house was way out toward one tip of the cove, near the standing stones she’d been to the day before while casting that potion they’d made together.
“I think she hit it off with your nonna,” he replied, sending her a smile across the width of the truck cab.
“Goddess help us all if those two ever get together,” Mellie said, laughing. “Nonna is like a toned-down version of your granny. Quieter on the outside, but there’s a raging torrent of power just under the surface. She can be scary, though, as you described with Granny Ivana, everything Nonna does comes from a place of love. Even when she’s teaching you a lesson.”
“I can only imagine how magical folk discipline their kids,” Peter mused. “Did she turn you into a newt?”
Mellie laughed aloud. “No, though there was the odd threat of transmutation when we were too little to understand how difficult such spells really were to cast. Mostly, she would lock down certain aspects of our power until we learned the right way to use it. Every magical child is unique with a unique set of gifts. As they develop, depending on the child’s age, they may or may not understand the right or wrong way to use a certain ability. It’s the parent or guardian’s role to make sure the child learns restraint and the ethical use of certain skills before they’re allowed to run wild with them. Like…say Urse or I were mindreaders…”
“You’re not, are you?” Peter asked quickly.
“No. Neither of us have that gift. But say one of us did and it manifested when we were too young to understand the ethics of traipsing through someone else’s thoughts. If that happened, and Nonna found out we were using our new powers without thought for consequences, or to harm another being, she would punish us by cutting off that power until it was just a harmless trickle. She would then set about showing us, in no uncertain terms, why that power should be used only under the correct conditions and with the utmost care. Being cut off from your natural power is a punishment for magical children. You feel incomplete and sort of…bereft…while your magic is locked down. Believe me, you learn fast how to do the right thing.”
Peter pulled up in back of the bookstore, by the entrance that led to the apartment above. Unlike some of the other shops in town, the bookstore had been built so that the only way to access the staircase that led up to the apartment was through the backroom of the shop. Some of the other buildings had separate outdoor entrances to the upper level, but the shops designed for human ownership were a bit more secure to protect both the humans and the shifters. Of course, when Mellie and her sister had signed on to open the bookshop, nobody had realized they were witches. That revelation had come later and had posed a bit of an issue for a short time before the girls showed how devoted they were to the safety of the town, cove and all the beings who lived there.
Peter helped Mellie down from the truck and walked her to the back door of the shop. She used her key to open the door to the back storeroom of the building, and Peter went in to make sure it was as she had left it hours before. Mellie came in behind him, shut the outer door, and together, they walked toward the staircase.
“Do you want to come up? I have cappuccino, wine, or the beer I keep on hand for John, when he comes over for dinner with Urse.” Mellie was a little nervous.
She knew, if she got him up to her apartment, things might progress into more…adventurous…places from there. She hoped they would. But did he want to? And, if he wanted to, was he thinking fling or long-term?
There was no way to know, and she almost wished she had a bit of that mindreading talent she’d mentioned before. It would make this all so much easier if she knew what his intentions were toward her. Did they have a chance at something lasting or was this strictly an as-you-go sort of encounter?
Frankly, at this point, she didn’t really care either way. At least, not right at that moment. No, right now, her senses were crying out for his touch, his kiss…and a whole lot more.
“I’d like that,” he told her, his words casual, but his gaze intense. Something deep down jumped for joy that he’d accepted her invitation.
She preceded him up the stairs and felt his gaze on her the entire length of the flight of stairs. Mellie unlocked the door at the top—there were deadbolts on the doors at both ends of the staircase—and walked into the dark apartment. Before she could even hit the switch for the light, Peter’s arms came around her from behind, hauling her close against his chest. His lips were at her ear when he spoke in a low, urgent whisper.
“Do you want me as much as I want you?” he asked, her stomach flipping at the sudden urgency. Her answer, of course, was an emphatic yes, but she tried to play it cooler than that.
She turned in his arms and showed him rather than told him, raising her hands to either side of his face and lifting her lips to his. She was aware of motion as she lost herself in his kiss but only realized he’d turned her around when her back came up against the closed door. Peter had kicked it shut and then spun them so he could press her against the solid wood in one of the sexiest moves she had ever been part of. If he wasn’t holding her up, she might’ve swooned right then and there.
He took his time, seducing her with his mouth, drugging her with his kiss. He tasted of pine and the outdoors, heat and man. He felt warm and hard against her, making her yearn in all her secret places. Yet the kiss, passionate as it was, still held back the full fire of him, the full passion she sensed lay just beneath his surface.
“Zvyozdochka,” he whispered against her throat when he finally released her lips. “Be sure. For once I’ve had you, I may never want to let go.”
If anything, his words only increased her desire. Keeping Peter in her life—possibly forever—was looking more and more attractive. No other man, not even any of the other bears in Grizzly Cove, had ever affected her this way. Peter was something special. Something she wanted to grab on to and keep.
“I’m sure,” she whispered back. The two words were about all she could manage, though she was thinking that if, after tonight, he tried to run away from her, he’d learn just how well a strega could hunt.
Her words seemed to unleash the beast inside him, in the most delightful way. Peter growled deep in his throat. She could feel the sound reverberate from his chest through to hers wherever she pressed against him. The vibrations warmed her and made her want to make him growl again. Soon.
He bent to place both of his hands under her rump and lift. She helped, wrapping her legs around him as he began to walk farther into the apartment. She hoped he was heading for her bedroom, but instead, he paused at the kitchen island, seating her on the cold granite while his lips sought hers again.
His kiss was fire this time. Pure flame that burned her senses and made her want to bask. He was amazing. No more tentative touches and seducing kisses. No, this was the real deal. His passion had been unleashed, and his touch had turned from seducing to beguiling. She was completely in his thrall. Whatever he wanted to do—wherever he wanted to take her—she was a willing and eager participant.
Right about that time, she realized he’d been undressing her all the time he’d been kissing her. Her top was gone, and she felt his hands working at her bottoms, as well. The fabric left behind on the countertop acted as a buffer against the coolness of the stone beneath her, while his hands and mouth set fire to her skin wherever he touched or kissed.
His lips left hers to take a tour around her body. By the time he reached the sensitive tips of her breasts, she was moaning aloud. She heard rather than saw his response. A low, vibrating sound of appreciation rumbled from him. It was akin to a purr, but he was a bear inside, so she wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Whatever it was, it was sexy as hell, and she wanted to hear it again. Preferably while he was inside her. Which couldn’t happen soon enough for Mellie.
She helped him shuck her pants and let them drop to the floor. He caught her in his arms and didn’t allow her to sit back down on the countertop until he’d put his shirt beneath her bare bottom. She’d been unbuttoning him all the while, so it was a simple matter for him to shrug out of the shirt on one side then, holding her against him with the free arm, use his other hand to arrange the shirt on the smooth counter.
When he set her back down on the edge of the granite slab, he reclaimed his place between her legs, the shirt under her allowing him to easily slide her closer so that she was open to him. But he still wore his jeans. The denim was rough against her inner thighs, but it felt so good. The only thing that would be better would be if she could feel his bare skin.
Putting actions to thoughts, Mellie reached for his belt buckle, fiddling with the mechanism to get it to release. Coming to her rescue, Peter took over the job, removing his jeans in a quick, decisive move that indicated to her he was as hot for this as she was. Good. She didn’t want to wait.
Mellie wrapped her legs around him loosely as he stepped back to her, and…oh, yeah…she was right up against him. She could feel his eager hardness as it pressed close to the spot where she wanted it most. Mellie looked down and the sight made her breath catch as her excitement rose higher. He was magnificent. He was big and bold and ready. Heaven knew she was ready, too.
“Don’t make me wait,” she pleaded in a rough whisper that seemed to break the tension. He’d been holding back, but it was as if her words had freed him.
Peter aligned himself, pushing tentatively at first. She watched every move along with him. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever done, and it set this experience far above any other she’d ever had—and they hadn’t even really started yet. She wasn’t sure she’d survive Peter’s lovemaking without her mind being completely blown if this was any indication.
He pushed, and she accepted. When he realized she was more than ready for him, he slid in confidently, in one smooth move that made her gasp. He was big, and she wasn’t all that experienced. Especially lately. It had been a while since she’d done this, but her body was accommodating him even as the thought crossed her mind. Mmm. Yeah. That felt so incredibly good.
He tugged her closer, and she tore her gaze from the place where they’d joined to look deep into his eyes. Energy swirled in them, just below the surface. His bear was looking out at her from within his human gaze. She read satisfaction and possession. Dominance and…care? Oh.
Her heart shattered and reformed with a little piece of him inside. Peter had changed her in that moment, she knew. She would never be the same after this, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad or scary thing. It felt right. He felt right.
And then, he began to move.
Rough, smooth, fast, slow. She wasn’t sure what to expect with Peter, and he gave it all to her. All…and more. He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, how to move, how best to please her in every way. He was passionate and considerate at the same time. He took all she could give and gave back even more.
When her first climax hit, he was there, holding her as she shook in his arms, speaking words she didn’t understand, whispering to her in Russian. Mellie thought absently that she was going to have to learn some Russian if they kept this up because she really wanted to know what he was saying.
She reached a second peak and then a third before Peter joined her. They came together as if they had done this a million times before, and with the way she felt for long, long moments after, she really looked forward to doing it again. Soon.
Apparently, so did Peter, because he lifted her off the counter and walked with her in his arms to her bedroom. Once there, he laid her on the bed as if she were made of spun glass, then came down beside her. Their gazed locked, and he began stroking her arm with one finger. A light touch that sent her recently sated senses spinning toward arousal once more, though she hadn’t thought such a thing was possible after so short a time.
“You’re amazing, zvyozdochka,” he told her in a sleepy, sexy voice.
“Zvyozdochka,” she repeated, trying to get the pronunciation right. “What does that mean?”
He raised his hand to push a strand of hair back from her face. “Little star,” he translated. “It’s how I think of you. Your magic shines so bright. Like a star.”
“That’s beautiful,” she whispered, falling easily under his spell once more. He leaned in to kiss her, and she went willingly, following him as he rolled onto his back so that she was over him this time.
If she thought being on top meant she’d be in control, Peter was quick to show her how deliciously wrong she was. With his enormous strength, he moved her around just the way he wanted her, bringing her hips over his and coaxing her down on top of him.
Unbelievably, he was as ready for more as she was. Maybe the Baker sisters hadn’t been exaggerating when they’d been gossiping about how ready-for-anything their new husbands always were.
“Okay?” Peter asked, catching her eye. The sincere concern for her on his face touched her deeply.
“If I weren’t, I would let you know,” she assured him. “I’ve liked everything so far,” she went on, enjoying the feel of him sliding inside her once more.
And then, she couldn’t speak while he maneuvered her into motion. His big hands on her hips guided, but she did have some control over the speed and depth. She altered both at random with the idea of teasing him but only succeeded in driving herself crazy in the best possible way. At one point, as she shuddered in ecstasy, Peter took control of her hips, holding her to him as she came apart around him.
When she met his eye, he was clearly amused. His smile spoke of pure male satisfaction and pride. She couldn’t really fault him for that. Being with him had brought her more pleasure than she could ever remember having. And it wasn’t over yet.
She came again before he finally joined her, and then, miracle of miracles, he cuddled her into his arms, and she drifted, warm in his embrace. If she let herself, she might almost think he…cared for her? Maybe even loved her.
Wow. The L-word.
She was very much afraid she’d fallen head over heels with the big Russian teddy bear. Shoving thoughts of the future aside, she promised herself she would enjoy these moments, right now, in his arms. Tomorrow would take care of itself.