Even hours later, in the boring, dusty safety of her attic, Hannah’s heart soared with giddy delight.

She’d flown! Flown!

Claws – sharp and terrible enough to tear a truck apart – had closed gently around her. Brandon’s precision was so perfect, so masterful. Not even a pinch to unnerve her. Then he had reared back, great wings unfurling above them. With a powerful leap, he threw the two of them into the air and carried them off with strong, unwavering beats.

Yes, she’d felt some fear in that first moment. Looking down at the houses so far below them. Knowing she could die if he made one mistake. But she trusted him. His strength. His complete and utter self-control. He would never allow her to come to any harm.

And so that brief moment passed, and she gave herself completely to the joys of Dragon flight. The feel of the wind rushing over her. The beat of his wings. Dipping and soaring as the gusts moved them.

Nothing had prepared her for that. Nothing in her life had been so wondrous, so joyful.

Well, except… that dream.

Hannah stole a glance at Brandon, bent over the old survey maps. Should she tell him about it? How much she longed for him? Needed him?

The memory of that passion woke a hunger inside her, which she struggled to ignore. What a ridiculous idea! She could never tell him she’d dreamed of him taking her in a mossy clearing. Claiming her body, her spirit, as his own.

Besides, he was a Dragon. A Shifter. What interest could he possibly have in a mere human like her? Even back when she thought he was ‘just’ a New York City millionaire, she hadn’t dared to believe he might love her. Now? When she knew he was something far more powerful than any millionaire? No. It was hopeless. A Dragon could never love a simple farm girl like her.

Or… could he? Brandon called her ‘Kindred.’ That meant that some Shifter, at some time, loved one of her ancestors. If that unknown grandmother could be so lucky, why not her?

With a secret smile, she tucked that hope away in her heart. She’d dreamed once. She could dream, now, of even more.

 

A clatter rang out from the kitchen downstairs. Mom, cooking. Her parents took having a Dragon land in their yard about as well as anyone could take that sort of thing. They were stunned, terrified, numb with shock. In the end, however, they couldn’t doubt the evidence of their own eyes. They, like her, were Kindred. Willful ignorance didn’t shield them from the truth. Mom had eventually invited Brandon to stay for supper, a downright hospitable offer in Hannah’s book. Dad even suggested he could eat one of the goats if he needed. Brandon assured him that no, pot roast would do just fine.

“What are you smiling at?”

She glanced up to find him studying her, not the maps. “Dad. And the goat.”

“An… unusual offer.” A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Generous, if unnecessary.”

“I was glad to hear that. I’m rather fond of our milk goats. If you had to… hey! Whiskey isn’t a Dutch word, is it?”

“No. It’s Gaelic.”

“Then why is it written on this old Dutch map?”

Brandon stepped around the table and leaned over her shoulder. Her body stirred, came alive, painfully aware of his hot, masculine presence, pressing close. “It’s, um, here. In the woods just north of here,” she managed to say.

“‘Whiskey’ is the shortened form of ‘water of life.’”

Exactly like the green Wellspring he’d described!

“We found it!” Hannah crowed with delight, then spun and threw her arms around his neck.

Immediately, she froze. Heavens, what was she doing?!? She barely knew the man! Lulled by the false memories of that glorious, passionate dream, she was treating him like her lover – not a kind benefactor.

She started to pull away, but he caught her arms and pulled her close again. Pressed tight against him, she felt his manhood awaken.

Clearly, she wasn’t alone in her desire.

“I’m sorry, I should have…”

“Hush,” he commanded. To make sure she obeyed this time, he kissed her. On her lips, her cheek, her neck. Exploring her, even as he had in the dream. One hand slid up under her shirt. A strong finger slipped inside her bra, circling her nipple, teasing, and her body came alive under the touch. Answering his powerful, masculine need with a yearning of her own. Energy blazed within him, the fiery longing of his Dragon soul. Hannah thought it could burn her up, so fierce was his desire.

Downstairs, the door bumped open. “Hannah?” her father yelled.

Both she and Brandon jumped. For a moment, his eyes burned at the affront of this interruption. His Dragon did not care to be denied. But Brandon was the master of his own soul, an Alpha. He would never allow his draconic fury to overwhelm him.

“Yes?” she called back, fighting desperately not to sound guilty. More from nerves than need, she brushed her dress straight.

“Danny’s nurse called in sick. Could you lend me a hand with his bedding?”

“Yes. Um, of course.”

“Thanks.” He clomped off, leaving the door open.

A frustrated silence descended. Once more, the budding flames of romance died.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered.

His broad, powerful hand caressed her cheek gently. “You have done nothing that requires an apology, my lady.”

Hannah smiled at that old-fashioned word. And wished she believed him.