Pia Saves the Day (Elder Races #6.6)(2)

At the back of the house, French doors opened to the large patio. Comfortable outside furniture with deep cushions dotted the open expanse. To one side, wide shallow steps led to an area created for open-air dining, with a spacious brick grill, an outdoor oven and a dining table and chairs.

To the other side, steps led to a sparkling, inground heated pool and pool house, surrounded by a decorative, black iron safety fence. Pia had to smile as she looked around with pleasure and satisfaction. Blooming bushes and flowerbeds surrounded the patio areas, and beyond that, a massive green lawn rolled gently downhill to the bordering forest.

Next week, work crews would build a security fence around that lawn, along with a large wooden play set, complete with a sandpit. Of course, neither the security fence nor the pool safety fence could contain Liam if he chose to change into his Wyr form and fly over them, but after what had happened in Bermuda, he had only been shapeshifting when he needed to feed his dragon form or when he was taken on a supervised flight.

Still, none of them could predict how long Liam’s obedient streak would last. After his adventures in Bermuda, Pia and Dragos had hired two extra avian nannies to fill in for when Pia was needed elsewhere. Along with Hugh, his new caretakers, Sasha and Ryssa, watched him like the hawks they were.

Pia looked wryly at her precocious, magical son, currently curled on Dragos’s chest.

In the sitting area on the patio, Dragos sprawled on a lounge chair large enough to support his powerful, six-foot-eight frame. He wore jeans, boots and a white T-shirt. As he wasn’t the kind of man to stand back while watching others work, his current outfit had already seen some wear and tear. Since they had come upstate, he had already demolished several pairs of jeans and shirts. Stacks of papers, manila folders and a laptop lay on a table pulled close to the right side of his chair, and toys lay scattered on the floor.

Peanut was fast asleep, and his thumb had fallen halfway out of his small, slack mouth. Wisps of his white blond hair fluttered in the gentle summer breeze.

His father read aloud, quietly, his voice steady and gentle, while he pressed a hand to Liam’s delicate back, supporting his position. The bracelet Dragos had made from her braided hair last year glinted gold on the dark bronze skin of his thick, strong wrist.

Whenever she saw Dragos with Liam, a tangled well of emotion overcame Pia—a great, fierce storm of love. This time the emotional storm was mingled with a thread of laughter, as she realized Dragos was reading the quarterly profit percentages from a stockholders’ report.

A snort escaped her nose. It was a small sound, amidst all the bustle and noise of the day, but Dragos’s head lifted, and he turned to look at her.

His expression changed drastically and he surged to his feet, all in one smooth flowing motion that never disturbed the sleeping toddler he cradled in one arm.

He demanded telepathically, Where’s the rest of it?

She knew immediately what he meant. One fact of their life would never change—her Wyr form was unique enough, they must always be careful to destroy any trace of her blood, and both Power and dangerous information could be gleaned from hair and nail clippings.

Giving him a reassuring smile, she told him, Eva swept the floor and made sure she got all the clippings. I’ve got it right here.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a paper bag that held the hair she had lost with the new hairstyle.

Dragos’s tension eased. Okay.

Then he tilted his head, lids lowering over gold eyes as he regarded her, and his expression underwent a subtle, sensual change. Strolling over to her, he slid his free hand underneath the hair at the nape of her neck. Gently, gently, he took a fistful and tilted her head back.

Hot and fierce arousal pooled in her lower body, sweeping inescapably over her like slow-moving lava. As she stared up at him, her lips parted, and her breathing changed and grew ragged. He did this to her every time, so effortlessly, like striking a match. He could claim her with a glance, a touch, a simple shift of his cruel-looking, sexy lips, and when he did, she went up in flames. Every time, everywhere.

Not too short. His telepathic voice was a mere growl of a whisper that swept over her nerve endings in an intimate caress. While everything they did together was sexy, there was absolutely nothing sexier than having him in her head. I can still grab a good handful. I like it.

I hoped you would, she said, her own telepathic voice unsteady.

Dragos bent his head and kissed her, softly because their sleeping son nestled between them. His firm, warm lips parted hers, and he dipped his tongue into her mouth in an erotic promise for later. Awash in the lava that burned through her veins, she steadied herself by gripping his bicep. With obvious reluctance, he pulled away.

In the fourteen months they had been together, the desire had never changed. Elemental, as necessary as breathing, it dictated the rhythm of their lives. They orbited around each other, always looking, always reaching for the other, but it never ceased to amaze her that he looked at her this way.

His brutally handsome face could be so hard, so ruthless, but his need for her always won through. She never doubted what he felt for her. She could see it in everything he did.

You want me, she breathed.

She’d meant to say it in a cocky and flirtatious way, with a wink and a saucy Marilyn Monroe wiggle of the hips. But she forgot to wink, the hip wiggle turned into a slow, needy roll against his, and the words came out breathless and awed.

He rubbed the calloused ball of his thumb across her soft, moistened lips. A dark flush stained his high cheekbones, and his gold eyes glittered. I’ll die before I stop wanting you.