Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(53)

Jordan gulped and took an unwitting step back of her own.

She nodded her head in understanding and held his discomforting stare. “Very well,” she whispered. “Is there anything else?”

He snickered and shook his head in disappointment. And then he raised his hand, caressed her jaw with the backs of his finger, and then traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb—oddly enough, it almost felt like he was testing her mettle, appraising her inner strength. “So brave. So defiant. So beautiful.” He sighed. “Just one more thing.”

Jordan raised her brows.

“I would also die to protect you, Jordan, just as I will live for you, now…and all the days of my life. And if you’ll let me—someday, somehow—I promise, I will love you forever.”

Despite her stubborn, iron will, Jordan staggered to the side, and she had to steady her balance: both physically and emotionally.

She was still reeling from his confession—he’d known what she was up to all along—and she was stunned by his dragon’s threat. This male absolutely believed she belonged to him, and he’d meant every word he’d said: He would never let her go.

And now…now…she was also spinning from his surprising pledge of affection, his promise to love her forever. By all that was holy, the dragyri was impossible to gauge.

He was fearsome, dominant, and tender…all at the same time.

He was terrifying, beautiful, and savage…all at once.

But most of all, he was telling the truth.

It was written all over his face.

Jordan licked her bottom lip—it suddenly felt dry—and she slowly sauntered past him. “Karen and Axe are waiting.”





Chapter Twenty-one Dr. Kyle Parker tightened his grip around the heavy base of the elegant flower arrangement as he entered Macy’s recovery room. His patient had come through the surgery with ease; he had managed to remove the entire mass, and as expected, the growth was benign. In addition, Macy had come out of the anesthesia quickly, her vital signs were good, and she had already had a small cup of cranberry juice and a cracker.

Model patient in every way.

Routine surgery, and all went well.

Now, he had to make the most of his good fortune: the fact that the flower shop had delivered the arrangement to the main post-op desk, and he had an opportunity to deliver it himself. As the door to the recovery room swung closed behind him, he headed to the nearest counter, set down the vase, and turned his back on his patient so he could reach into his lab coat pocket, retrieve the ruby-and-gold beetle—strange how the item had just appeared on his nightstand that morning; he had no memory of buying it, but he must have—and clip it to the stem by the card.

Get well soon, beautiful ~ Dr. P.

That was all the card said, and yes, it was definitely crossing a line, but the surgeon didn’t care. He wanted to make intimate inroads with Macy Wilson, and the urge—the need to make it happen—was like a hunger he could not resist. He spun around, feeling a bit uneasy, and reached for her chart, even as she eyed the flowers hesitantly.

“Are those for me?” she asked, with a croak in her voice, probably a result of the anesthesia.

“They are,” Dr. Parker answered in his usual professional voice.

Macy’s face lit up as she stared at the opulent arrangement of pale green-and-violet lilies, purple-and-white roses, and gorgeous scatterings of baby’s breath. “Must have been my mom,” she commented. “Wow. I can’t believe she did that.”

Dr. Parker flashed a wickedly sexy grin, set down the chart, then picked up the flowers. He brought them to the side of the bed and lowered them so she could read the card.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding more than a little embarrassed by his blatant attention. She reached for the card and read it; then her jaw dropped open. Her eyes grew wide with astonishment, and her face flushed a bright shade of red. She shifted nervously in the bed. “From you?”

He nodded.

Her tongue snaked out to lick her lips. “W…Why?”

He smiled at her again, only this time it was warm and inviting. “Because you are my favorite patient, and I want you to get well soon.”

She lowered her gaze into her lap, like a teenager, hiding her blush, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. “I don’t know what to say.” She read the card a second time and literally squirmed in the bed.

Good.

This was excellent.

The woman was very interested—her conquest would be easy.

And then she saw the pin and gasped. “What is this?”

“Take a look,” he said, lowering the arrangement even further.

She plucked the jeweled beetle off the stem and placed it in the palm of her hand, studying it carefully. “Is this…is this real?”

“The gold?” he said. “The rubies? Yes, dear, they are.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I…I don’t know what to say. I mean…why would you do this? Really?”

Well, she had just thrown the door wide open, and Dr. Parker had every intention of walking through it. “I think you know,” he said in a rich, deep voice as he held her stare, intently, with his own.

Macy gulped. “I…I…” She blushed again. “Thank you.”

He nodded as if it were no big deal, placed the flowers on the bedside table, and then returned to the edge of the bed. “Can I call you sometime, Macy? Not as your doctor, but as your friend?” The corner of his mouth turned up in what he knew was a wolfish grin.