“What are you doing here?” Daisy frowned at the man in her doorway. The insistent knocking had dragged her from her bed, and she wasn’t thrilled to see him. The man was too handsome for his own good, and unfortunately, he knew it. “Do you know what time it is?”
Breaker braced one hand on her door frame and gave her a slow, hot smile. Being a dragon made that second nature. “Hello, Daisy. We thought we’d visit.” He glanced over his shoulder, his expression less amused.
Since he didn’t move, Daisy peered around his large body. She wouldn’t normally get that close to him, but she didn’t wake easily and the sleep haze made it seem okay.
Lit only by ambient light, a man wove closer, stumbling as he bumped into a table in the small chocolate factory. Something metal clattered to the floor. He cursed in a familiar voice and limped closer, muttering to himself.
“Luke?” Daisy brushed Breaker aside for a closer look, uncomfortably aware of his hard heat. Not a bit of give on that one. She flinched when her brother Luke knocked over a pile of boxes, a puff of flame escaping his mouth. She backed up, wisely putting Breaker between her and the young dragon. Luke would never purposely hurt her, but he was strong. He’d be very upset if he accidently set her afire.
“He could walk by himself,” Breaker said sardonically. “Help wasn’t desired.”
“Is he drunk?” she asked, concerned. Abruptly aware of her thin tank top and sleep shorts, she belted her black cotton robe. Breaker wasn’t staring, but he radiated awareness of her body. Abruptly conscious of her messy blond curls, she shoved a hand through the short, silky mass in an attempt to tame it.
Ugh! Now she was grooming for him.
Breaker made room for Luke in the doorway, his bronze eyes watchful. Her living room light glinted off his black-green hair and the green scaled band around his neck, the sign of a green dragon. Scales protected the back of his hands and his black talons were politely blunted, though that could change in an instant.
His wings had been transformed to black leather pants and boots, and his formfitting, partly unzipped leather jacket revealed a matt green t-shirt made of micro scales. A platinum medallion with his family crest winked on his chest.
“I’m not drunk,” Luke said with dignity. “I’m stoned.” His indigo and silver coloring was echoed in his black blue hair, and he wore a silver jacket over his inky blue, leather pants and shirt.
Breaker intercepted her look of outrage. “An older human woman up for a quick ride slipped something in his drink. I intercepted them as they were stumbling out the door.”
Outraged on Luke’s behalf, she stepped aside to let them in. “Did you call the cops?”
Breaker raised his brows as Luke dropped on her leather couch. “It wasn’t necessary. After I threatened to bite off her face, she apologized profusely and fled. I’ll have her watched for a few days.” His smile was sharp. “She’ll have more dragon men around than she can handle.”
Daisy grunted. She knew the woman would be investigated further; dragons weren’t very forgiving. Somewhat mollified, she put her hands on her hips and stared at her brother. “Are you going to be all right? Why did you come here?”
“Mom and dad aren’t home. Dad said something about “warm sands for old bones”. I think they went south.”
Daisy blinked. Her mother was human and her first husband had been elven, resulting in Daisy’s Halfling status. She’d married a white dragon called Malcolm and had Luke when Daisy was three, much to Daisy’s delight. Daisy had spent the next ten years mothering him, and he’d returned the favor by being fiercely protective of her. It was no surprise he’d chose to crash at her place if he weren’t feeling well.
Her mom was the “artsy” type, a pretty blond who’d reached middle age with the expectation that men existed to take care of her. She was a loving, if scattered, parent.
“Odd. Usually they call. Malcolm is almost as absentminded as she is sometimes. I know he’s got to be at least fifty, but I swear he seems younger than she is.” Not that he looked fifty, but there was a sense of age to Malcolm. His face might be unlined and his white hair thick, but at times he seemed almost otherworldly. He was also unbeatable at chess and a whiz with the NY Times crossword puzzle.
Breaker looked mildly surprised. “Your father is as old as the hills, love! I’m not even sure how a dragon that old produced offspring.” He studied Luke as if he were a mystery.
“He’s old?” she echoed, belatedly realizing she should offer refreshment. Or should she? It was after one in the morning. She’d rather kick them out and go back to bed. Not that she would do that to her brother. He was only seventeen, and clearly not feeling well.
Breaker was another matter.