Dragon Shattered_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance Read online

  She snorted, and nearly spit black beans and corn all over me.

  “Nope,” she said with a laugh. “You’re really going to like that one.”

  Exactly what I was afraid of.

  “Great.” I let the sarcasm drip like the greasy burger in my palm.

  “Tell me everything I need to know,” I said. “I won’t risk a repeat of this morning. And no more one-on-one interviews.”

  “Then how are you planning to pick which one you want?” Maisie asked.

  “Group meetings. Group exercises,” I said.

  “Afraid of what they might do?” she asked. “They seem like perfect gentlemen as far as I can tell, and if not, bad in the best way.”

  “Afraid of them? No,” I said. “I’m afraid of me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Taylor

  I’d opted not to fly around last night. The exercise would have been great, stretching my wings, soaring, feeling the strangely familiar air of Emerald Pines whipping past my face. But this was another dragon’s territory, and fuck if I was going to piss her off by flying around without permission.

  And fuck if I was going to piss her off by even asking. Ariana West seemed offended by the very sight of me.

  So a morning run was in order. Work out the weird feelings I had about being in this place that felt like an old part of me. It was strange, feeling like I was coming home. Even though Ms. West wanted to push me away, I still felt embraced by this building, and embraced by the company. For a guy who didn’t want this job, I seemed to kind of want this job.

  A trail stretched through the wooded area a few blocks west of the Arrow, and I followed it. Found my rhythm, listened to my heart. It sounded sexist and creepy, even to me, but from my limited interaction with her, it seemed like Ariana West needed a good man. Not a good fucking, although, hell, I wouldn’t mind doing that, but she needed companionship. Friendship. Affection. I wouldn’t mind doing any of that, either, but ha, yeah, she would never welcome it—at least not from me.

  I wondered how old she was. To have her company so well established and be so successful, she had to be older than me. Not that it would ever show, because as dragon shifters we could live practically forever and still look like we were thirty or so. If she was an older dragon shifter, why hadn’t she found a mate yet?

  None of your business, Taylor, I reminded myself as the Arrow came into sight. This was a job interview, not a dating service, and as much as I wanted to offer Ariana West the companionship and affection that I was sure she needed, it wasn’t my place.

  Entering the common area of our forty-eighth-floor suite, I was shocked anew at the ugly-ass couches Slade had brought in. Whichever maintenance guy had told him we could have those sofas, well, that guy was a visual sadist. It wasn’t just the color, but the floral pattern. And those tassels. Why? Why would anyone create such a thing?

  I headed into my room for a shower and noticed my phone’s screen light up with a text. From Maisie Jones, Assistant to Ariana West. Group interview today @ 9 AM in Conference Room A, floor 47.

  The clock read seven a.m. Plenty of time to shower, grab a bite to eat. Figure out if there was a way I could act around Ariana West that wouldn’t have her bristling with revulsion.

  At ten to nine, it was time to leave. Slade was nowhere in sight in our common area, and I didn’t hear any sounds coming from his bedroom, so I headed down without him. Maybe he’d be late, and I’d be the guy getting hired as partner.

  Naw, that felt wrong. Maybe in the Wentuffel that kind of competition made sense, but it didn’t feel right here at Whitesong. Ariana West had built a company reputation for hardcore success and a softer side of charitable giving.

  I stepped into Conference Room A and was inundated with the scent of dragon. Holy shit—three of us in one room? Slade was here along with a guy I didn’t recognize. He looked about my height, with a lean, athletic frame, but that’s where our similarities ended. His suit cost about ten times what mine did, and no chance in hell would I try to pull off a man-ponytail. He rocked it. It was his confidence. Something told me this guy could pull off pigtails and make them look masculine and polished. Stepping forward, he held out his hand. “Quentin Phillips.”

  “Taylor Stonehall,” I said, shaking his hand. Even though, like Slade, he was technically competition for a prime position, I didn’t find myself sizing him up and wondering how to take him down.

  Once Ariana arrived, we’d have four dragon shifters in one tiny room. I hadn’t been around this many dragons in years.

  I took better stock of my surroundings. The conference room looked built for smaller meetings. The table was a very short rectangle with a single chair at the head, and two at each side.

  “She’s late,” Slade said, looking at the clock positioned on the wall at the back of the room.

  “Not yet,” Quentin said. “There are still a few seconds.”

  “She’s having a hard time,” I said, surprised as the words left my mouth.

  “What do you mean?” Slade asked.

  I shook my head. “Never mind. Not my place. I’m just worried for her, that’s all.”

  “She seems to have quite a good handle on herself,” Quentin said.

  “You met her already?” Slade asked, sounding jealous. “I barely got a sniff of her before she chose a different elevator.”

  Laughing, I said, “You told me you were carrying another sofa. Of course she picked another elevator.”

  “Where are you two from?” Quentin asked. “Strange that three dragon shifters are up for the job. Is it a position requirement?”

  “I don’t remember marking anything on the application form,” I said. “Although maybe I just forgot. Anyway, I’m from California originally, but spent the past five years in Germany.”

  “I’m from Illinois,” Slade said shortly.

  “Maine,” Quentin said. “What are the chances?”

  I shrugged and opened my mouth to say how slim those chances were, but the door opened and in stepped Ariana West. All three of us applicants closed our mouths and watched while she found her seat. My strong vision allowed me to see her pulse thrumming at her neck—she was nervous. Seemed it should be the other way around—the applicants should be nervous and the boss should be in charge. But for some reason, cool, collected Ariana West was freaking the fuck out.

  “Let’s start with introductions,” she began.

  “Oh, we’ve met,” Quentin said.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. In an icy voice, she said, “Have a seat please, Mr. Phillips.”

  He sat, and Slade and I found seats, too. Ariana was at the head of the table. I found a spot on her left, and Slade and Quentin were sitting across from me.

  “I’d like to talk to you about the position,” she said, “and why you think you would be a fit for it. What, exactly, can you bring to Whitesong?”

  Quentin glowered at her, and she rubbed her fingers together, twisting them.

  Clearing her throat, she continued, “So the role of partner involves knowing Whitesong inside and out. I’ll have to trust you with wooing clients, making deals, handling recruitment and hiring new employees—generally being a clone of myself in as many ways as possible. I’ll admit it—the company has grown so much as to become unwieldy. So I need help. What I really need, though, is a person who demonstrates the qualities of heart, brawn, and brains. Right now, I’d like each of you to really examine yourselves. If you don’t possess those three qualities, the door is right over there. Maisie will give you a voucher for a great restaurant down the street, and by the time you’re finished with your meal, she’ll have your flight back home arranged for you.”

  Heart, brawn, and brains, I thought. Yeah, I had them. Heart especially. But I was smart, too, and as a dragon shifter, the muscles were a given. No, I wasn’t built like a fucking truck like Slade, but I’d say I was definitely above average in strength.

  What got to me more than the question, though, was the w
ay Ariana West said it. Her voice was cold like the north wind. Scathing, even, like she’d skin us and hang our scales out to dry. Maybe make us into handbags or shit like that.

  She looked from one of us to the other, as if waiting for someone to actually get up and walk out of the room. Ha. Like I’d walk away from an opportunity like this one. Nope, I hadn’t wanted this job, but I was ready to give my notice at the Wentuffel just for the opportunity to be here. Deep in my heart, I knew I was staying in Emerald Pines. Ariana West might not know it yet, but I’d come home.

  Her gaze landed on Slade, and he glowered back at her. Anger to anger. “I’m staying,” he said. “I got all three of those things. I’m not vain, but I know I’m perfect for this job.”

  When she looked at Quentin, he gave the kind of cough that really wasn’t a cough. I kind of wanted to smack him on the head because he sounded like a pretentious asshole.

  “I’m curious,” Quentin began, “as to why you feel the need to intimidate your potential hires. Here we sit, eager to please you and dazzle you with our outstanding qualifications. Yet a part of you seems angry, almost as if you won’t let yourself go out and have fun. As if you’d be on the threshold of a truly spectacular evening and then you’d turn and run away.”

  Those dark eyes of hers blazed. “That’s enough, Mr. Phillips.”

  There was something more going on between them. Quentin had mentioned that the two of them had met—I wondered if he might be referring to that.

  He folded his hands in front of him. “I apologize if I overstepped. At any rate, I’m interested in the job and I’m going to stay.”

  Her gaze landed on me, and I stared back at her with what I hoped was an expression of warmth and understanding. I wanted to comfort her, help her feel better.

  I got back anger. Cold and cruel.

  It made no sense, so I stared harder, and then I realized I wasn’t using one of my best senses—the sense of smell. Subtly, I inhaled through my nose and paid attention to the information in the air.

  “And you, Mr. Stonehall?” she asked.

  It hit me, then, why she was acting so uncomfortable.

  Mrs. Ariana West, capable dragon shifter, owner of one of the largest security firms in the western hemisphere, was highly aroused.

  I couldn’t help my knowing grin, but I regretted it immediately when her frown deepened.

  “I’m in,” I said. “I’ve got all three—heart, brawn, and brains—and as I told you in the car—”

  Her scent of desire seemed to fill the room. Now that I noticed it, it was impossible to ignore. I smiled wider.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “As I was saying when we were in the backseat, I am organized, determined, strong. I can do this job, and I’d be a great fit.”

  She stood abruptly. I immediately realized what I’d said. Talking about being in the backseat, talking about being a great fit. Shit—I wasn’t trying to mess with her, or for fuck’s sake, harass her in the workplace.

  “I’m sorry,” I rushed to say. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant I think I’d be great for the position and I’d like to be considered.”

  Quentin was looking at me in surprise, and Slade’s face registered confusion.

  She seemed to figure out that I was being sincere, and she nodded.

  Her hands shook. She squeezed them together until her knuckles went white. “There’s a rather big job coming up,” she said in a quiet voice. As if realizing how meek she sounded, she spoke a little louder when she added, “It’s for a new client. Mr. Jacques Pelletier. Everything will culminate in a large event, but in the meantime, we’re short on security guards. The three of you can work while I choose which of you will be my partner.”

  “Work in what way?” Quentin asked.

  “As security. You’ll work shifts while objects come in for Mr. Pelletier’s auction.”

  “It’s a bit beneath my pay grade,” he said.

  Ariana sniffed. “You’ll be paid a more than adequate hourly rate.” She pulled her electronic tablet from the bag she’d been carrying, swiped it on, and slid it to the center of the table, facing up. A large number shone on the screen. Slade’s jaw dropped in surprise.

  “I’m in,” Slade said quickly.

  She glared at Quentin and then at me, as if daring either of us to say we wouldn’t do it.

  I stood up and held out my hand. “I’ll be there, whenever you ask.”

  The other guys stood up as well. Ariana’s focus went from one of us to the other, and I thought I could scent her desire growing stronger. Was it all of us she was attracted to? Well, this could certainly be interesting.

  Quickly, she shook each of our hands before turning and walking to the door. Over her shoulder she said, “I’ll have Maisie send you the details.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. West,” Quentin said.

  She looked at each of us in turn. “I suppose by now, you may as well call me Ariana.”

  And then she was gone.

  Quentin caught my eye. “That was incredibly illuminating.”

  “Smells so good in here. Like apple pie,” Slade said, inhaling once before leaving the room.

  I followed them, agreeing with both.

  Chapter Eight

  Quentin

  The short meeting had taught me more about my situation than I had anticipated.

  The other two applicants had a level of comfort with each other, even a rapport. It was apparent from the moment they’d stepped into the room. The strangest part was that I could feel the ease of falling into the same brotherhood mentality, while I had expected more cutthroat competition.

  The little challenges I’d posed to Ms. West had been met with hostility. She was tense—a stark contrast from our encounter the night prior.

  When I’d first arrived in Emerald Pines, I had expected her to be cold, ruthless even. That’s what I’d seen at the meeting this morning. What I had not expected was her intoxicating yet sharp scent of green apples, the softness of her skin, and her disarmingly down-to-earth presence at the pub the night before.

  I’d seen photographs, but they’d done her no justice. Ariana West was much more than a beautiful, polished professional woman.

  Emotion had no place in this contest, and I would wield tight control over my attraction to this woman who stirred my senses. There was no room for affection in the plan.

  My interest in the partnership position at Whitesong Security was unlike the motivations of my competition. I was neither soldier in search of his next mission nor hopeless romantic following whims of wanderlust. I’d traveled to Emerald Pines for one reason and one reason only—corporate espionage.

  Whitesong’s reputation was flawless, its infrastructure impenetrable. It had taken seven years for an agent of the Curtis Corporation to obtain an interview with the elusive Ariana West. I wasn’t about to fuck it up.

  To date, the furthest we had infiltrated Whitesong was in joining low-level security, and we’d rented space in the building known as the Arrow.

  I was in, and I only had one shot.

  Taylor opened the door to our shared suite.

  Fortunately, the common area was spacious. Upon entry, there was a small hardwood foyer, which opened up to a wide living room with lush gray carpet, white walls, and large framed prints of abstract paintings which offered a pop of color in a sterile space. A large window offered a generous amount of natural light, as well as a panoramic view of the city and the forest beyond. The kitchen was set off to the side, standard granite, dark wood, and stainless steel. The wooden bowl filled with decorative balls in the center of the counter, like most everything else in the suite, likely came in every set of corporate quarters in the building. Only one thing was out of place—the hideous seating.

  Vomit green, fringed in metallic tassels, and covered in a floral pattern, the two long couches were easily the most appalling seats that had ever been created. I found myself staring unblinking so long that I feared the image would forever be
burned into my retinas.

  Slade jumped onto one. The wooden frame groaned from the impact of his massive size. The cushions bowed, allowing the man to sink into the hideous depths and become one with the abomination of upholstery.

  “Pretty great, huh?” The smile upon his face was filled with pride.

  I was unsure how to answer.

  “Ugly as hell,” Taylor said.

  “And twice as comfortable,” Slade replied. “You should be thanking me that your ass has a place to sit.”

  “Uh huh,” Taylor said.

  “Woulda been the floor,” Slade said. “Little thing that was here before would have left the floor or my lap for the two of you.”

  “I appreciate the alternate option of a seat cushion,” I said.

  “Now you’re just encouraging him,” Taylor said. His grin showed his fondness for the big guy.

  I liked the two of them already, even though I knew developing attachments was dangerous to my mission. These two were meant to be my competition.

  “You’re on the right,” Taylor said, and pointed to the hall.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  I carried my bag to the space that would be mine for whatever length of time this competition would last. The walls were the blue of a clear sky, the white and gray linens on the king-sized bed like clouds in a perfect morning sky.

  I unpacked my suits into the closet, and admired the only piece of art in the room—another abstract. Above the bed was a canvas of blue with stripes of green that were reminiscent of wings spread across open sky, the bits of red curved like flames. The likeness made me homesick. I couldn’t risk flight in a city that didn’t belong to me. I’d done enough to test Ariana West’s patience.

  I considered remaining in my room while we waited for our assignment, but the sounds from the common area drew my attention.

  The television blared a melodic sound, then a feminine computerized voice. “Gamebox.”

  “Here it goes, here it goes,” Slade said. The excitement in his voice intrigued me. I may as well stick around; it wasn’t like I had anything more pressing to attend to.