My Wild Irish Dragon (21 page)

She continued to watch her feet, but her cheeks bunched up like she was smiling—or grimacing.

At last she looked up and answered him. “That's supposin' I can succeed. Mayhaps you'll simply have to take your own pleasure and leave me wantin' a bit.”

“I never want to leave you wanting.” He leaned over and kissed her hair.

She snuggled closer. “I guess the sayin' ‘practice makes perfect' might apply here. So gettin' a little practice might be worth doin' in the long run. But aren't you supposed to stay out of sight in case you're recognized?”

He frowned. “Yeah. I doubt anyone we know will be staying at the hotel.”

“Darlin', your face was all over the news for days. Just goin' out for a stroll is dangerous. At least it's dark out now, but come tomorrow mornin'…” She let out a long sigh. “As much fun as practicin' sounds, the panic your reappearance would create might be worse than my screamin'.”

“Damn,” he muttered.

She glanced at him impishly. “We can go to my place. Everyone there already knows I'm in no danger when I scream in ecstasy.”

He immediately turned her around and began walking toward her place as she laughed.

* * *

They barely made it to her room before all of their clothes had been removed and flung in different directions along the way. Chloe leaned on his chest as he held her and tumbled backward onto the bed. They bounced and she giggled.

When had she become a giggler? Somewhere along the line, she'd lost that angry edge that kept people at arms' length. Fortunately Ryan had forced his way past her barriers long enough to see the lonely girl inside.

She hadn't felt lonely since he returned to her, and she hoped she'd never feel that empty again. As much as she loved her family, it wasn't the same. They were creating their own families now, and even though it didn't look like there would be any nieces or nephews for her to spoil, she could be completely happy with whatever children came from Ryan's large family.

He cupped her head and kissed her deeply. She practically sighed into his mouth.

“I love you, Chloe Arish.”

“And I love you, Ryan Fierro.” Without any prompting, she sat up and straddled him. She took his member in her hand and stroked the long, hard shaft as he groaned in pleasure. She was plenty wet and wouldn't need much in the way of attention to come. Why wait when the goal was to practice the best part?

She rose up on her knees and positioned herself over his erection.

“Don't you want some foreplay?” he asked.

“Maybe later.” She sank down onto his rod and moaned in joy as it filled her. She began rocking in a slow, undulating rhythm, which he easily matched.

“That would make it afterplay.”

When he used the pad of his thumb to rub her clit, a jolt of sensation shot through her, surprising her with its intensity. He kept it up and before long she was bucking and moaning in joy. She quickly remembered to rein in the noise factor without losing the blissful feeling.

Her body trembled with the effort of holding in her screams. She whimpered, gasped, and eventually got herself under control. The sensation built to the breaking point and as she let go, soaring in ecstasy while moaning softly.
Oh me heavens…

Ryan joined her with his own climax. She could tell because his movements slowed, stopped, and then his hips jerked several times. His eyes were scrunched shut and his straight white teeth gritted together.

Eventually, he opened his eyes and panted. He took one look at her face and grinned. Cupping her face in his hands, he said, “You did it!”

“Did I?”

“You couldn't hear yourself? Or
not
hear yourself?”

“Well, no. But for a time there, I felt like I left my body. I could have done anythin' at that point. I might have danced a jig and I wouldn't know it.”

“Oh, you danced a jig all right.” He pulled her face to his and practically crushed her lips in a hard kiss.

She chuckled and rolled off to curl up beside him. The two of them lay there for a few minutes, breathing heavily.

Eventually, he swept her blonde bangs away from her eyes and looked serious. “Did you mean what you said?”

“I don't know. I say a lot of things…” She grinned and hoped he'd elaborate.

He tapped the end of her pert nose. “And fortunately, you mean what you say most of the time. But there was something you said that concerned me. I don't want to put off asking about it.”

“Okay. Ask.”

“Mother Nature's offer… You said it sounded bloody awful. Why would you take a job like that? Are you even considering it? Is it because of me?”

She caressed his chest hair. “No. I'm not taking the job and you have nothin' to do with it. I honestly don't think I'd be the best fit. I'd probably fly into a rage and beat up a bully who was threatening a woman or child. What kind of example would that set when talkin' about assertive nonviolence?”

He nodded. “I can understand that. I might be tempted to do the same.”

He adjusted his position so he could gaze into her eyes. “I'm relieved. I was afraid you might be getting into something you couldn't get out of. Something you'd hate and grow to resent.”

“I could say the same for you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Apparently he wasn't ready to share what he was thinking regarding his own situation. At least, not yet.

After a short silence, he gathered her close. “Want to
practice
again? After all, they say practice makes perfect.”

“Indeed. I think I can use all the practice I can get.”

* * *

The following morning, Ryan's phone rang. He was blindly patting around the bed for it until Chloe grabbed it off the nightstand and handed it to him.

He squinted at the number displayed by caller ID. “It's my parents' house,” he mumbled, then sat up suddenly. “Shit. What time is it?”

Chloe glanced at the clock next to her and said, “Uh-oh. Ten a.m.”

Ryan answered without the niceties. “I'm fine, Mom. Just fell asleep over at Chloe's place.”

“For cryin' out loud, Ryan!” Chloe could hear his father's voice clearly. “Your mother is too upset to talk. We didn't know what had happened to you.”

Then Mrs. Fierro's voice could be heard in the background saying, “He's okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine,” his father muttered. “Just stayed at his girlfriend's house last night.”

Mrs. Fierro took over as if she'd grabbed the phone from her husband. “A phone call would have been nice. We've been worried sick.”

“I'm sorry. Chloe and I were—um, distracted.”

She humphed. “I'll bet. Is she there?”

Ryan looked over at her, but didn't hand her the phone. “Yeah…”

“May I speak with her please?”

“Why? So you can yell at her too?”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Fierro said. “I want to invite her to tea. I'd like to get to know my future daughter.”

Daughter. Not daughter-in-law.
Chloe's heart was touched. She nodded toward the phone and stuck her hand out.

Ryan frowned but handed it over.

“Mrs. Fierro?” Chloe said.

“Oh, there you are, dear. I was hoping you could find some time to come over by yourself. Now that Ryan is stuck there until dark, this might be a good day for it.”

She glanced at Ryan who simply shrugged.
Okay. He's not reacting like I might be met at the door with a noose.
“Sure. What time today?”

“Why don't you come at noon? Does that give you enough time to, um—get dressed?”

Chloe laughed. “At work I can get dressed in the dark in sixty seconds.”

“Wonderful. I'll see you at noon.”

They said pleasant good-byes, then Chloe handed the phone back to Ryan. He apologized again for worrying them, then hung up.

Chloe rolled out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe. “Is this invitation something I should be concerned about?”

“Probably not.” Ryan was gathering his clothes, which had landed in the far corners of her bedroom.

“
Probably not?
What does that mean?”

“It means I can't imagine my mother wanting to harm you. Chances are she really just wants to get to know you better.”

“Oh.” Chloe felt a little stupid for worrying about a five-foot-nothing older woman doing anything to her. She could certainly take care of herself, and would probably pose more of a threat than anyone.

“I'll grab a shower,” Ryan said. “Unless you want to come with me?” He gave her a wolfish grin.

“What? I didn't get enough feckin' practice last night?” She couldn't make her face match her stern words.

He roamed over to her and took her in his arms. While he was kissing her, he cupped her ass and lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him and held on as he carried her to the bathroom.

“Chloe, dear. I'm so glad you could come,” Mrs. Fierro said as she opened the door.

“Thank you for inviting me.” She really had nothing to say after that, so she hoped her fiancé's mother could keep a conversation going.

“Let me take your coat.”

Chloe shrugged out of her navy pea coat, noticing the item she got in Iceland two years ago was beginning to show some wear. If nothing else, she could invite Mrs. Fierro to go shopping with her. The woman seemed to have impeccable taste.

“Is Mr. Fierro at home?”

“No. He went off to visit his cronies. It's just the two of us.”

That should have made Chloe a little more relaxed, but it didn't help. She was still plenty nervous.

“Let's sit in the kitchen,” Mrs. Fierro said. “I have Irish breakfast tea. Is that all right?”

Okay. So this is to be a casual inquisition.
“Perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Fierro.”

“We'll have to do something about that,” the matriarch said.

“Do something?
Um, about what?”

“Well, I can't have you calling me Mrs. Fierro, but it's a little too soon to call me Mom. Call me Gabriella—for now.”

“All right.” She took a deep breath and watched as Mrs. Fierro—Gabriella—set a teapot on the stove to boil. Now she was tongue-tied again. Maybe instead of waiting for the inevitable questions, she should just start talking and steer the conversation. “So, you and Mr. Fierro—”

“Antonio,” Gabriella corrected.

“Oh. Okay. So when you and Antonio were dating, did he tell you his family were phoenixes?”

Ryan's mother let out a merry tinkling laugh. “Oh my, no. He waited until our wedding night.”

“Your weddin' night? You mean it was too late, if you changed your mind?”

Gabriella returned to her seat and placed a hand over Chloe's. “True love doesn't change its mind, sweetheart. It changes
you
.”

She understood that. Chloe had changed a lot since meeting Ryan. She thought back to the prickly, surly girl she'd been in training and wondered why he'd wanted anything to do with her. She had done everything she could to push him away. Now she'd fight fang and claw to keep him with her.

“How did you take it? I mean, at first. Obviously you got over it, because here you are, several sons later.”

Gabriella's smile slipped a bit and she squirmed. “I didn't quite understand for a while. I thought he was joking.” Then the smile was firmly back in place. “He tends to do that, you know. Make jokes, I mean. It's one of the things I love about him.”

“Yes, I noticed.” Chloe relaxed and smiled. “It's quite charming, actually.”

“That he is.” Gabriella sighed, but at least she was still smiling. “So, I was wondering how much Ryan has told you about how this family operates.”

“Operates? You mean when someone gets hurt?”

Gabriella let out a long laugh that time. “No, Chloe. I meant how we work things out.”

“Oh.”
I feel like a feckin' idjit sometimes.

Gabriella didn't wait for Chloe to recover from her embarrassment. She just forged on, which helped. “The eldest son is always in charge of the nest.”

“Nest?”

“Just an expression, dear, meaning our home and family.”

“Oh. No, he didn't mention any of that.”

Gabriella's face fell. “I was afraid he wouldn't.”

“Why? What's wrong?”

After a long inhale and exhale, Mrs. Fierro explained, “Ryan is actually our eldest. He had an accident when he was a child and came back at about the same age as our Gabe was at the time.”

“Yes. He told me about that. So, it looks like he and Gabe are twins. Is that what you tell people? That they're fraternal twins?”

“Not if we can help it. We don't share details of our family at all unless we have to. The fewer prying eyes, the better.”

Chloe nodded sagely. “That's been our policy as well. How much did Ryan tell you about me?”

“Not a lot. Just that you're quite old.” She slapped a hand over her own mouth. “Oh! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put it that way.”

Chloe chuckled. “No need to worry. A girl can't be sensitive about age when she's been around for a millennium.”

Gabriella's eyes rounded. “A millennium! Truly?”

Chloe smirked. “Give or take a few decades. My brother is the eldest, and then there's me, and the youngest is Shannon. Rory raised us, for the most part. Our parents had to leave after the family gained some unwanted attention and people began noticing how long the king and queen had been sitting on the throne.”

“King and queen?” Mrs. Fierro exclaimed. “Does that make you a…”

“Princess? Yes. It's funny, but Ryan's first nickname for me was princess. Long before he knew.”

“But he knows now…” Gabriella prodded.

“Yes. He's met my family. Well, what there is of it, to be sure. My parents could still be alive, so we don't know if my brother is the king or crown prince. He insists on keepin' the title prince and only among family when absolutely necessary…probably so he doesn't attract attention and have to explain our longevity too.”

“But he will raise some eyebrows eventually. Phoenixes live for about five hundred years, and that's without reincarnating. Eventually, the younger generation takes over and the elders move away.”

Chloe nodded. “Yes. Ryan explained that too.”

“Did he also tell you he's the one expected to take over here?” Mrs. Fierro gave her a piercing stare. She didn't know what to make of that.

“He mentioned that he
was
, until his accident.”

Gabriella folded her arms and said, “Humph. So he didn't share the plans being made to protect himself and the family?”

Chloe grew uncomfortably hot and loosened the scarf around her neck. “He mentioned somethin' about plastic surgery and takin' on a cousin's identity.”

The matriarch relaxed a bit. “Good. I'm glad I'm not the one who had to break it to you.”

“Break what to me? That the man I love will look like someone else for the rest of his life?”

Gabriella chewed her lower lip. “I was afraid of that reaction. I knew you were taking it all too calmly.”

“Oh? I haven't decided how I feel yet. There might be an alternative to discuss first.”

Gabriella's forehead knit. “An alternative? Like what?”

“Like Ryan and I can go to my home in Ballyhoo where nobody knows him. He won't have to do anythin' drastic to his face and if he wants to fight fires, we can both be part of the volunteer fire department. Mayhaps we can even improve it.”

“But where would you live?” Gabriella asked.

“We can restore the castle. I helped me brother remodel his Beacon Street brownstone and enjoyed doing it. You probably know that all Ryan wanted the whole time he was in Afghanistan was a sea view. The castle will certainly have one. It's built into the cliffs.”

“He said that?”

“He kept a picture from a magazine in his wallet. It was from some Boston architectural or real estate magazine.”

“Really…” Gabriella looked off in the distance as if she were trying to process some startling new information.

“I know you all want Ryan to stay here and be head of the family, but he said he'd have to do that from the suburbs anyway. He couldn't risk messing up and anyone finding out who he really was.”

Gabriella held up one hand as if she couldn't take in any more information. Chloe was about to ask why one of the other six brothers couldn't take the job, but she didn't want to upset the woman further.

“I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm afraid it's too late. Decisions have been made.”

Chloe shot to her feet. “Made by who—or is it whom? Oh, hell…Does Ryan know?”

Gabriella's lips thinned. “I've said too much.”

Chloe marched to the closet where her coat was. Her
possible
future mother-in-law followed her.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to confront my fiancé.”

“No, darling, no. I don't want to stir up trouble between you and Ryan. He has a duty. It isn't his fault.”

Chloe squared off with the Fierro matriarch. “Yeah? Well I have a duty too, and I just told my family to shove it.”

She grabbed her coat and shrugged into it. Mrs. Fierro didn't say anything else as she stormed out of the house.

* * *

Ryan was surprised to see Chloe back so soon…and so angry. She slammed the door and faced him with her hands on her hips.

“Did you know?”

He squinted. “Know what?”
What is she talking about?

“Your family has already decided your fate. According to your mother, the feckin' plastic surgery idea and your livin' in the suburbs is the only answer. Why can't one of your brothers take over? You have enough of them.”

Ryan rose and strolled over to her slowly. “Did she say anything about appointments being scheduled?”

“No. But she said it was decided. That it was your duty. Like you had no say in the matter.”

Ryan couldn't say anything to reassure Chloe. If the heads of the Boston and Arizona families had locked down the decision, there was little he could do…other than fly away, and he wouldn't resort to such cowardice.

“Well?” she demanded.

He wrenched his attention back to the woman he wanted by his side for the rest of his life and wondered if she'd asked a specific question. “Well what?”

“Can't one of your brothers take over? What if you weren't available?”

He was about to speak but she held a hand up, halting his thought, and continued what she was saying. “I'm asking a hypothetical question.”

Ryan scratched his head and started to pace. “There's nothing saying Jayce couldn't do it. He's the one born right after me. My father might not think he has the personality for it, but Miguel would welcome the job. Plus he's married. Jayce doesn't seem ready to settle down anytime soon—although I have seen him with Diana more than once.”

“Does the head of the family have to be married?”

“It's preferred.” Ryan remembered how his family had encouraged him to push forward with Melanie, even when he was having doubts. It was
much
preferred. They took it as a sign of maturity, and maturity was what a good leader needed.

But Jayce seemed to be getting along with Diana quite well. A ray of hope began to peek out of the darkness, but he was afraid to let Chloe see it just yet.

“What would happen if we were
not
to marry?” She was already working the ring off her finger.

“No, Chloe. Don't do that.”

“Why not? If you have to be married to take over as head of the family and let your parents retire to Florida—or wherever it is your older birds fly off to—let's wait until they come to their feckin' senses.”

“It's not like that. It's…complicated.”

She strode right up to him and challenged him with nothing more than the look in her eyes. He'd seen his mother twist his father's wing with nothing more than “the look.”

He sighed. “I'll have to wait until after dark and meet with my father.”

“Why wait? Invite him here.”

“Right now?”

“Why not? Your mother said he was just visitin' his mates. I could let you two have the apartment and make myself scarce in the paranormal club across the hall.”

Ryan mulled that over. Trying to discuss a change of plans would be difficult under any circumstances, but maybe here—away from his home—would be a good idea. The possible interruptions would be cut to almost nothing. And being away from
his
nest might be enough to put his father off balance and force him to think out of the box.

“I'll call him. Why don't you go to the club now, and I'll call you when I have something more I can tell you.”

“Fine. But if he refuses, do me a favor?”

Ryan inhaled deeply. “What's that?”

“Consider defying the order. I know it's not your nature. You followed orders in the military and you do it at work all the time. But I think he may have to see how strongly you feel.” Then she straightened her shoulders. “And I'd like to see that too.”

She spun on her heel and marched out the door.

He didn't try to stop her. He needed a few minutes to get his own mind straight before he called his father. He'd never considered outright refusal. To do so would be unprecedented. He might be exiled. He could be giving up his whole family and everything he'd ever known for one woman. How sure was he of her love?

He wandered around her apartment. There weren't a lot of personal items. He guessed she'd given up most of those to come to America. He examined the few things she did have though.

Books. Her bookshelves were nearly full. He perused the titles and found many written about America and prominent Americans. However there were also titles by beloved Irish novelists like James Joyce and Oscar Wilde. From that he gathered she embraced change but cherished her roots. There were times when she seemed a little nostalgic. Perhaps she was a bit homesick, but she never complained. Never compared the countries.

The Irish flag stretched across the wall over her bed, and he'd always thought it was just a decorative touch, placed where a headboard ought to be. Now he realized it may have been more.

When she'd mentioned a solution that would serve them both, she talked of going “home” to Ballyhoo. She spoke lovingly of her desire to restore their ancient castle, but not to rule over it as
Queen Chloe
—a title she could have for the asking. Instead, she'd mentioned improving the village's volunteer fire department.

She was the kind of truly noble woman he wanted in his life. She'd had to fight for her place among the brotherhood, and before long she had their hearts and their loyalty. She would be a fine asset in
any
family.