Dragon Romance: Dragon Fire (Paranormal Shapeshifter Hero Protector Firefighter Romance) (Fantasy Shifter Werewolf BBW Pregnancy Women’s Fiction Short Stories) by Emma Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

hands in his and pulls them away from him as if fending off an infant. And then he disappears into the crowd. I try to follow him but he’s well and truly gone, and I am left in the mass of people helpless and disappointed.
    I head home early that night, having no interest in dancing with the other men. They cannot do for me what that man did. No drugs or alcohol can parallel it, even.
    I arrive home and am just getting into bed when I notice something on my nightstand. A rectangular piece of paper, facedown. I stare at it for a moment, perplexed, before remembering the previous night. It’s the object I picked up off the bathroom floor. I’d completely forgotten about it until now.
    I pick it up and turn it over. It’s a business card.
    Damien Carmino. Accountant.
    There’s a phone number and address below his name, and for a moment I can do nothing but stare at the little square of paper and the little words inked on its front in awe. Could it possibly be his? Could this be my way of finding him again?
    I lunge across the bed towards my laptop and turn it on. One quick Google search later and I’ve confirmed it . . . I’ve found my guy. His face stares up at me from the glowing laptop screen, just as alluring and beautiful as in person.
    I know what I’m going to do.
    *****
    The next morning, I give his office a call and make an appointment. Lucky for me, one of Damien’s clients for the day cancelled last minute, and they can squeeze me in right after lunch. I spend my remaining hours obsessing over my appearance, primping and doing my makeup over and over again. Finally I settle on an acceptable hairstyle and outfit, getting out the door just in time.
    I get to the office ten minutes before my appointment. The secretary takes my name and tells me Damien will be with me soon. So I sit, and I wait.
    “Danielle Robineau?”
    The secretary calls me back up after about fifteen minutes of waiting. I jump up and shuffle forwards.
    “Damien will see you now.” She nods towards the door to my right, and I tentatively approach it. I open it slowly and step inside. At first I am too fearful to raise my eyes, but when I do I find him staring at me from across his desk.
    “Funny seeing you here,” he finally says, his voice guarded. He narrows his eyes at me and I squirm uncomfortably in my chair. “How did you find me?”
    “You dropped your business card.” I fish it out of my pocket, holding it up so he can see. “I had to come see you. I know it seems creepy.”
    Damien cracks a smile, shaking his head ruefully. “You’re quite the resourceful little lady, aren’t you?”
    “Well, you wouldn’t give me any information!” I protest. “I couldn’t stop thinking and wondering about you. It was driving me insane.”
    “I don’t know what to tell you,” he says with a shrug. “My life is my own concern, not yours. And besides, if I told you about myself you wouldn’t believe me. Even if you did believe me, you’d be so frightened you’d run for the hills.”
    I scoff at this. “You’ve bitten into my neck and drank my blood twice, and I’m still here. What makes you think some silly words will send me running?”
    “You never know.” He stares at me intently, not elaborating.
    “I have suspicions,” I say after a moment. “But they seem foolish.”
    “And what are those suspicions?” he inquires. I stare at him silently for a moment and he smiles. “Don’t worry, this is a no-judgement zone.”
    “You’re a vampire.”
    My words hang in the air, both of us staring each other down as if in some sort of face-off. Finally he cracks a grin again, and lets out a low laugh.
    “You would be correct.”
    I gape at him. Correct? He just said I’m right—that he is, in fact, a vampire? I mean, all the signs point towards it, no normal person would enjoy drinking the blood of others on a regular basis . . . but still, vampires are fictitious. They’re just stories, told to excite and incite fear.