Home > The Billionaire Dragon's Secret Son (Howls Romance #10)(4)

The Billionaire Dragon's Secret Son (Howls Romance #10)(4)
Author: Harmony Raines

As for airplanes! Don’t even get him started on those invaders of the skies.

He turned off the highway, driving through the suburbs, the traffic thinning as he neared his mansion. High, impenetrable walls surrounded the house, with motion sensors dotted at intervals to keep intruders out. A wrought-iron gate stood at the only entrance, with a security keypad on the wall next to it. This was his private place, a place where he could relax, away from the scrutiny of others.

He pressed the buttons and entered his code, sitting patiently while the gates slowly opened. He was in no rush: dinner, and an hour of exercise, would leave him ready for a shower and then bed, where he would no doubt toss and turn, the vision of his mate taunting him. What an exciting life he led.

The gates were open wide enough for his car to fit between them. He eased his foot down on the accelerator and the car moved forward, the gates swinging shut behind him. The drive leading to the house was not long; it skirted a small ornamental lake, before straightening up to reveal an impressive view of the mansion. George snorted. What he wouldn’t give to live high up in the mountains, with nothing but the clothes on his back and the sun on his face.

Duty. Loyalty. Honor.

He repeated the words that he had carved into the stone above the large front door of the mansion when he bought it two years ago. It was how he reminded himself that he could not run away and seek the solitary refuge he craved. All thanks to that woman. If not for her, he could have slipped into obscurity and lived his own life, on his own terms, instead of spending each day trying to right the wrong she had done to his clan.

He stopped the car abruptly and got out. Did she have any idea what she had done when she stole from him? Had she any idea of the life she had forced him into?

He had to let it go. This constant obsessing was driving him insane, but he knew it was useless. He knew it went deeper than the theft of the Blade: a dragon was meant to have his mate by his side. If he had never met her it would be different, he would be different. The longing would still be there, but not this constant obsessing. But he had met her, and worse… he had bedded her. Taken her. Claimed her. And then she had run from him, as if it meant nothing.

He slammed the car door shut and looked up at the sky, cursing the clear night and full moon. He needed to fly. His dragon was scratching at the walls of his mind, trying to get out, to escape the thoughts of her.

George stopped and sniffed the air. There was a scent. A new scent. Don’t say he was now hallucinating with his nose? Was that even a thing? Or just one more sign she was driving him to the brink of insanity with her absence.

“Good evening, sir,” Alfie, his butler-cum-cook, cum-valet said, as George entered the house. He must have heard the car and come running to the door. Duty. Loyalty. Honor. That was Alfie. He had been in the service of George Lancaster’s family for most of his adult life. The two of them shared a bond that went deeper than a master-servant relationship.

“It’s late, you shouldn’t have waited up.” George knew how early Alfie got up in the morning to begin his chores. But Alfie insisted on never going to bed before George arrived home; he always liked to open the door for George and give him an update on his day. Not that anything ever happened. Alfie rarely left the grounds, preferring to have everything delivered in. Alfie felt safer, more secure that way, and George never questioned him. He knew the old man’s past only too well.

Looking at Alfie’s darkened eyes, George made a mental note to be home early tomorrow, so that the old man could get to his bed early.

“I have dinner prepared. It might be a little dried up,” Alfie said apologetically.

“I’m sure it will be edible.” George walked toward the staircase. “You should go to bed. I can help myself.”

“Hmm,” Alfie said. “I’ll give one last turn around the house. Check all the windows and doors.”

George smiled. Alfie had a set routine he had to perform, or he found it impossible to sleep. But since there were only the two of them in the house, and Alfie was meticulous about locking all the doors when he entered and left by the tradesman’s entrance, it was one he didn’t need to perform. But he did it anyway.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” George said. “I’ll shower and change before I eat.”

“Good night.” Alfie was already heading off down the hallway, eager to get to bed.

George took the stairs two at a time. He liked the solitude of the evenings. The emptiness of the house after a day surrounded by people. Maybe later he would take a walk outside, the night air would do him good, settle him before he tried to sleep…

His dragon burst into his thoughts, bright, fiery, and alert. Something was wrong. Someone was here. Another dragon. He could scent one on the air.

George undid the buttons of his jacket, slipping it off and casting it aside as he moved lightly down the hallway. His tie followed his jacket, before he undid the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, ready for the fight that was before him.

He sniffed the air. There was another scent mingling with that of the dragon. One he recognized, one that had haunted his dreams, both day and night, for the last five years. As he moved to open the door to his bedroom, he knew he would no longer have to search for his mate.

She was here. With another dragon. He pushed the door open, knowing he would fight to the death to protect his mate. Even if she were a lying, thieving wench.



Chapter Three – Poppy

Poppy had forgotten just how devastatingly handsome George Lancaster was. Her dreams did not do him justice, and her body reacted to him as he stood, framed in the doorway, his shirt undone to reveal a sprinkling of hair, and his sleeves rolled up as if he were ready for a fight. The fire that flashed in his eyes confirmed her fears: George Lancaster was still mad as hell at her, and she was glad she had told Charlie to hide in the bathroom.

Although what would happen to her son if George hurt her, she didn’t know. Her face flushed pink, and she wanted to hide from that gaze that ripped her clothes from her body as he stood there, glaring at her. What did she expect, a peck on the cheek and a long time no see?

George Lancaster strode into the room, his eyes no longer on her, but instead skimming the room, looking for something. Oh no, had he picked her up on a surveillance camera? She was sure she had avoided them all. She thought she had been so careful when she sneaked in here. It was what she was good at.

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