Chapter Sixteen
Ezra placed both hands against the tile and leaned forward, letting the shower spray fall over him. The boat was anchored back in the cove, and the rifle was stowed in its proper place. The shower was to rinse the salt water from his skin and also to try to cool his ardor. His dick was so hard he was hurting. He’d wanted to go to Sam, sweep her into his arms, and carry her up to his bed.
But she was exhausted. Being in the small, open boat for hours, worrying about him, had taken its toll. She needed care, not him climbing on top of her so he could slake his lust. He shook his head and grabbed his shampoo. Sam had used his shampoo. Her hair and her skin would smell like him. It was ridiculous just how much that pleased him.
He wanted to be the one who provided everything she needed. Not exactly politically correct, but he’d never claimed to be that enlightened.
He rinsed and stood there another minute, letting the water beat down on him. Salt water or fresh, it never failed to revive him.
Only his hunger to be near Sam and his physical hunger for food hurried him along. She was already in the kitchen putting together a meal, and he didn’t want to be away from her any longer.
He dried off and pulled on a pair of jeans, doing his best to ignore his hard-on. He knew damn well a man couldn’t die from arousal. It only felt like it.
He could hear her humming when he silently padded down the stairs. After a quick glance toward the front door to make sure the blanket and the treasure it contained was still there, he went to the kitchen. Sam was standing in front of the stove stirring something in a pot. He inhaled deeply and the fragrance of tomatoes, basil, oregano, onion, and other spices hit his nose.
Sensing his presence, she glanced over her shoulder. “I figured pasta was quick and filling. Hope it’s okay?”
“It’s better than okay.” He couldn’t resist her lure any longer. Her gaze never left him as he walked over to her and took the spoon from her unresisting fingers. “I should have cooked something.” After everything she’d been through, she had to be exhausted.
Yet a part of him was thrilled by the idea of eating something she’d prepared, even if was pasta from a box and sauce from a jar. She’d made it. For him.
His dragon preened inside him, the creature smitten. He was no better. He wanted to kiss her but knew if he did, they’d never eat. “Let me get this.” He drained the water and poured the large pot of sauce all over it. Lifting the pasta pot, he gave it a shake.
Sam laughed and shook her head. “That’s one way of doing it.”
He loved the sound of her laughter. That he was the one who’d caused it was a bonus. “It’s the right way. The only way,” he teased back. “Now have a seat so I can serve.”
She made her way around to where she’d set two places with large plates and cutlery. He grabbed a fork and used it to scoop several mounds of pasta onto Sam’s plate.
He eyed his plate and thought about eating straight out of the pot, but he decided that might be a little bit much. He was about to plate some up when Sam stopped him. “You can eat out of the pot if you’d like. I don’t mind.”
“You sure?” He didn’t want her to think he was an animal.
“One less dish to wash.” She dug into her own pasta, swirling the long noodles around the tines of her fork. Then she winked at him.
Ezra shoved aside the plate, set the pot on the counter, and began to eat. As soon as the first bite hit his stomach, he was ravenous. He devoured every last bite. It took the edge off, but he was still hungry.
Sam was about a third of the way through her meal and watching him with wide eyes. He shrugged. “Told you I need a lot more food.” He didn’t feel embarrassed, not exactly. At least that’s the lie he told himself. He’d never cared what anyone thought of him before Sam.
“If you’re still hungry, you should get something else to eat.”
He hesitated for a moment.
She carefully set her fork on the edge of her plate. “Ezra, you are who you are. And you expended a lot of energy tonight. You’re amazing.” She reached out and touched the side of his face. His chest puffed out. She thought he was amazing. And his brothers would laugh their asses off if they ever heard about this. “You should eat.”
He gave a curt nod, practically jumping off his stool and shooting back into the kitchen. He wanted to touch her so badly his hands shook. He’d faced entire armies in centuries past without batting an eye, but this one woman’s touch made him tremble.
He went into the utility room that housed the laundry and two large freezers. He grabbed a package with three flank steaks out of the largest of the two and went back to the kitchen.
Sam was glancing out the window but turned her attention back to him. “Does it feel odd to be eating pasta as the sun is rising?” Sure enough, there was the slightest tinge of color on the horizon.
He shrugged and pulled out his large grill pan. “I eat when I’m hungry. Doesn’t matter to me what time of day it is.” He tore open the package and slapped the frozen steaks onto the grill pan.
“Shouldn’t you thaw them first?” She pointed her fork toward the microwave.
“My way is faster.” He leaned down, concentrated the fire within him, the fire that every dragon and drakon possessed. Controlling the flow, he blew softly. He wanted to thaw the steaks, not burn them to a crisp.
The air around the meat heated and the ice crystals melted. He flipped them over and did the same to the other side. When he was satisfied the meat was no longer frozen, he set the pan on the stove on medium heat.
“That is a handy skill.” Sam set her utensils down and pushed her plate away. It was still half full.
“Have you eaten enough?”
“Any more and I’ll burst,” she assured him. He wasn’t convinced, but he remembered a conversation he’d overheard between his brothers. Tarrant had called Darius asking about what he’d termed girl food. Apparently, women ate a lot differently from drakons. He’d have to look into that.
“If there are other foods you prefer, just write them on the list.” He pointed to a magnetic notepad on the side of the refrigerator. “I call in for groceries twice a week and someone delivers them to the dock.”
“Now that’s what I call service.”
He shrugged and flipped the steaks. “I pay for it, but it’s worth it.”
“Because you don’t have to leave your island to grocery shop?” Sam was coming to know him well.
“Yes.”
Sam put her dirty plate and utensils in the dishwasher and rinsed the pots while he finished cooking his steaks. She wandered over to peer out the window while he forked the meat onto a plate and then sat to eat. The mood was getting more pensive with each passing second. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally turned to face him.
“I called your friend.” She looked as though she was confessing a great crime. He chewed the last bite of his steak and shoved his plate aside.
“When? And where is my phone?”
“While I was waiting. You were gone for so long I got worried. Ah, it’s still in my coat pocket.” She caught her bottom between her teeth. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done it.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her. Tarrant was probably losing his mind right about now, but his brother would just have to deal. “I should have come up more often to check on you.” Her frown indicated she didn’t like that, but it was true. “You didn’t know how long I can stay under.”
“And just how long can you stay under?”
He got up from the counter and shoved all his dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I don’t know. I’ve never run out of air in all the years I’ve been swimming the oceans.” He shrugged and wiped down the counter. “I’m not sure I need to come up for air at all.”
“Wow.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She looked small and lost, which wasn’t right. He knew her to be brave and courageous. He tossed the dishcloth aside and went to her.
“What about your friend?” she asked before he could touch her.
He lowered his head and blew out a breath. She was right. The faster he called Tarrant, the better. “Wait here.” He turned and sprinted for the stairs. The blanket was heaped by the door. Waiting. Just waiting.
It was time to see what he’d rescued from the sea.
…
Sam rubbed her full stomach. She’d eaten way too much, but not nearly as much as Ezra. He could really pack away the food. Must be great to be able to eat that much and not gain a pound. He was all solid muscle. Not an ounce of fat on him.
She’d started a load of laundry earlier, so while she was waiting, she went to the laundry room and transferred the washed clothing to the dryer. If nothing else, she’d have clean underwear and jeans that actually fit her.
Ezra’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. He held his phone in his hand. “You might as well hear what he says.” He pressed the one contact number in the phone and waited. It rang once before it was answered.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Sam jerked back. Ezra’s friend was furious. Not that she blamed him. They should have called him right away.
“Sorry.” Ezra dragged his fingers through his long, brown locks. “I had to get Sam warmed up and get something to eat.”
“I’ll just bet you warmed her up.”
Sam stiffened, and Ezra growled. “Careful what you say. You’re on speaker. And I was more concerned about hypothermia than about getting Sam into bed.”
“How is she?”
“She’s fine,” Sam snapped back. She was getting tired of them talking about her like she wasn’t even here. The stranger simply laughed.
“What did you find?”
Ezra glanced at the mound by the front door. “I don’t know. It’s a metal box, possibly silver, but it’s not the box we’re interested in, but what’s inside.”
“Don’t open it.”
“Tarrant.”
“No, you don’t know what’s inside.”
Now Sam had a name for the stranger. Tarrant. Whoever he was, he was worried about Ezra. “I can open it,” she offered. “After all, the Knights are human. If it’s safe for them to touch it, I should be fine.” Or at least she hoped so.
“No offense, Sam,” Tarrant shot back. “But I don’t know you from Adam.”
“You don’t trust me.” She didn’t know why that should surprise her. It only made sense not to. Still, she was hurt.
“You’re damn right I don’t.”
“That’s enough, Tarrant.”
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” There was a lot of swearing in the background. “Okay, let me set up a conference call with the others. I’ll call you back in three minutes. Don’t open the fucking box until I get back to you,” he ordered.
“Done.” Ezra ended the call and gave her a reassuring smile. “Looks like we’re going to open the box.”
She edged closer to the blanket covering their treasure. “Maybe Tarrant is right. Maybe we shouldn’t open it.”
Ezra tucked his phone in his back pocket and dropped his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
She couldn’t lie to Ezra. “Honestly, no. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
He turned her until she was facing his chest, his bare chest. God, she’d done her best over their late-night snack or early breakfast, whatever you wanted to call it, not to stare at all that muscular exposed skin.
Right now, he was humming in her blood louder than the artifact. She placed her hand on his chest and stroked her index finger around an intricate swirl. He groaned and she glanced up.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
In lieu of an answer, he slammed his mouth down on hers. The kiss was hot and consuming, burning every other thought from her brain. She’d been so worried about him while he’d been diving, and he’d been so aloof since they’d returned home. This was the Ezra she loved, the wild, untamed lover who’d rescued her body from the sea and stolen her heart.
His big hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place while he deepened the kiss. Their tongues battled for supremacy. He stole her breath and then returned it to her. He pulled back, gasping for breath, groaned, and then kissed her again.
She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, needing to touch him as much as she needed air to breathe. He slid his palms beneath the shirt she wore, cupping her bare bottom. He dragged her against him and his arousal pressed against her stomach.
The phone rang.
They both jerked apart, and Sam began to laugh. “Now you get passionate. When we’re expecting Tarrant to call back.”
“We can forget all about him.” Ezra eyed the stairs to the bedroom.
Sam tugged at the hem of the shirt and tried to ignore the low-level arousal pulsing through her body. “Something tells me he isn’t the kind of man you ignore. He might call out the national guard if you don’t answer.”
Ezra snorted. “Or worse, he might come here himself.” He dragged the phone out of his pocket. “I’m here. Give me a sec.”
“What the hell were you doing? No, wait, don’t answer that.”
“I won’t.” Ezra approached the blanket, but Sam stepped in front of him before he could touch it.
“Let me.” When his brows lowered, she knew he was going to object. “We don’t know how it might react to you. Let’s be safe.”
“Listen to the woman,” Tarrant told him. “But I promise, you hurt Ezra, and I’ll find you. There is nowhere on this planet you can hide from me.”
She believed him. This was not a man who made idle threats. She ignored Ezra’s warning growl and gingerly picked up the bundle. “Where are we doing this?”
“Office.” Ezra led the way and she followed. “Are the others there?” he asked Tarrant. She wondered who the others were. Friends? Other drakons?
“Did you discover anything about the Dragon Guard?” she asked. Ezra indicated the center of the room. The sun was rising, but it was still dark enough that she needed some light. Ezra turned on the desk lamp before she asked.
“Who the hell are the Dragon Guard?” This new voice was even deeper than Tarrant’s.
“According to Sam, they’re a group set up to counter the Knights,” Tarrant replied. Sam was beginning to feel superfluous to the conversation. Ezra was standing across from her, glaring at the phone. He tossed it onto the desk and crouched next to the blanket.
“Then why the hell haven’t I heard about them?” the new voice demanded.
“Because contrary to your opinion, you don’t know everything,” Ezra shot back.
There was silence and then a snort of female laughter. There was a woman with one of the men. Sam’s curiosity was piqued.
“He’s got you there, big guy,” the female replied. “Hi, Ezra.”
“Hey, Sarah. Darius giving you trouble?”
“No more than usual, and nothing I can’t handle.”
“If you’re through emasculating me, can we get on with this?” Sam found herself smiling at Darius’s reply. He was trying to sound angry, but she could hear the wealth of love in his voice. Whoever these people were, they were very close to Ezra.
“Is Nic there?” Ezra asked.
“I’m here. I just can’t get a word in edgewise with the other Chatty Cathys.” All the men began to laugh. She knew it was some kind of joke, one they were all privy to, and one she didn’t understand. It emphasized that she was on the outside of their group. Temporary.
Ezra rose and came to her side. He put his arm around her shoulders, leaned down, and whispered in her ear. “Darius and Tarrant rarely say two words when one will do. Nic is the chatty one.”
“I heard that,” Nic protested. “And you’re… Well, you’re right. What can I say? I’m a social butterfly, while the rest of you are hermits.”
“Can we get on with this?” Tarrant groused. “I’ve been up all night.”
“Translation, Valeriya has been up all night, and you want to take her to bed,” Nic said.
“Shut up, Nic,” Tarrant shot back. “And to answer your question, I’m still looking into the so-called Dragon Guard. With so many damn gaming sites and fantasy fiction, it’s taking some time to weed through everything. Early indications are they might actually be real.”
Of course they were real. They’d approached her, hadn’t they? Okay, really only one man had approached her, but that had to mean something. Didn’t it? It was giving her a headache just thinking about it.
“Can we just do this?” Sam was getting more nervous with each passing second. She carefully peeled away the blanket and studied the object. Going into clinical mode, she began to report. “The box is about eight by six and about four inches high.” She knelt so she could get a better view. “It appears to be silver, or some silver alloy.”
“Get some pictures,” Tarrant ordered.
“You think you can trace it?” There were obviously benefits to having a skilled hacker around.
“If it’s been referenced anywhere, I’ll find it,” he promised. “Any markings or writing on it?”
Tarrant thought like a scientist. “Give me your phone,” she ordered Ezra. He handed it to her and she took several pictures from all angles. “Send these,” she told him.
While he was doing that, she took a corner of the blanket and rubbed it over the metal. “There are markings, but they’ve been compromised.” Worn down from years in the sea. “Where exactly did you find the box?” She hadn’t thought to ask Ezra until now. She’d been excited by the fact he’d found something.
“Inside a pottery jar, but I smashed it open and took the box.” Sam winced and Ezra shrugged. “I was more concerned with speed than preserving the jar.”
Even thought it went against all her training, she knew he’d done the right thing. “Okay, so maybe whatever was etched on the box was worn off by years of use. I’m unable to determine when it was made at this point.” She’d need more time and better equipment to do that. “The box has two clasps on the front. A skilled craftsman made this piece.”
She glanced at Ezra. He looked worried, but not about himself. “You don’t have to do this,” he told her.
She forgot there were other people listening to them. There was only Ezra. “I have to. If this is something that can hurt you, we need to find out so we can neutralize it.”
He crouched beside her. “If something happens, I’m going to melt whatever is inside.”
She blinked in surprise. “You can do that?” Then she shook her head. “Of course you can. That hot air is good for something more than thawing steaks.”
Ezra had a pained expression on his face. Several male voices chuckled, but she could hear the underlying tension. It wasn’t helping any of them to draw this out.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m opening the clasps on the box.” Maybe because it had been stored in a jar for all these years, but the metal clasps opened easily.
Ezra was a large presence beside her, strong and steady. The others on the phone were silent. You could cut the tension with a knife. And speaking of knives. “Hand me that Spanish dagger we used on the book.” It was better she didn’t touch the box any more than she had to.
He retrieved it from the desk and handed it to her. “This is getting to be a habit.”
“Let’s hope this is the last time.” She took the dagger and poked the tip under the edge of the lid and slowly lifted.
The velvet lining was faded, but what was inside glowed. Dark yellow gold shone. The thick chain was set with large rubies. She didn’t need to be a jeweler to know they were exceptional. They glowed with an inner light that was breathtaking.
Beside her, Ezra stirred. “Son of a bitch.”