Trees and gardens were spread out on either side of her, and a three-storied stone mansion loomed ahead. The skin on the back of her neck burned, like an invisible hand was trying to pull her back through the gate.
“What the hell?” she snarled and pushed forward. The burning hand let her go, and she fell forward. She would have gone tits up except someone caught her before she could face plant the pavers.
“Easy, I got you,” Bas said from somewhere above her head. Her face was smooshed into his chest, and damn, did he smell good. Like sweet wood smoke and cloves and something else indefinable that made her lady parts wake up and pay attention. As if they hadn’t been on high alert since she saw him in the bar. Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” she blundered and stepped back before she could rub her nose all over his shirt.
“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to the back of her neck under her thick hair.
Bridget flinched, the burn heating under his touch. “Ouch. What the fuck was that?”
“That shadow creature left one of its hooks in you. Our house wards removed it,” Bas said, and gently turned her. “Let me see?”
Bridget held up her hair and tried to ignore his breath on her neck. “Anything? It wasn’t like a real hook, right?”
“It was real enough to leave an angry red mark, but the skin isn’t broken. I have something inside that will help take the sting out if you want it,” he said, sending another tickle of breath over her skin.
Bridget dropped her hair and moved away. “Thanks.”
She looked around, needing something else to say to get her mind off the way her body really wanted to push up against him.
It was then that she noticed all the dragons. There were statues amongst the trees and flowers, stone dragon gargoyles hanging off the house, and roaring dragons set in stained-glass windows.
“You guys sure have a thing for dragons,” she said, stating the obvious.
“It’s because wearedragons,” a new voice said from the front door. A tall, heavily tattooed man was eyeing her over. “Can I put the other wards back up now?”
Bas led the way over to him, and Bridget followed, too curious to let the dragon’s comment lie. Mister Tall, Dark, and Dangerous was even more intimidating up close. He was dressed in all black but was scruffy around the edges, like he’d just woken up and wasn’t happy about it.
“Bridget, this is my brother Valentine,” Bas introduced.
“Hey,” she said, really not liking how Valentine studied her.
“You don’t look like a magician,” Valentine replied, staring down his nose at her.
Bridget crossed her arms. “Well, we can’t all look like we’ve just escaped from Azkaban, Valentine.”
His lips kicked up into a smirk. “My mistake. There it is. Welcome to the family.”
“Ah, thanks?” she replied as Valentine walked toward the gate.
What did he mean by that?No one wanted Bridget in their family, not even her own mother.
“He’s an acquired taste,” Bas said and opened the large red door for her. It also had a dragon knocker.
“What did he mean by you’re all dragons?” Bridget asked and toed off her boots. It definitely seemed like a house where you took off your shoes.
Bas smiled, an edge in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “It’s a long story. The kitchen is this way. Have you eaten? I have a craving for cookies, so I’m going to talk and bake.”
“I always have room for cookies,” she replied, feeling a little dazzled. It wasn’t a bad feeling like she was getting overstimulated. It was an ‘I think I’ve stepped into a fairytale’ feeling because something was definitely up with the house. It felt… She couldn’t find the right words other thanhomeandmagic.
She followed Bas, resisting the urge to touch everything pretty she saw. The walls were lined with ancient family coat-of-arms banners, shields, and swords as well as interesting paintings she wanted to admire a little longer. Most of them showed dragons or other mythical creatures.
A door opened in front of them, and an older man with silver-shot dark hair came in, carrying a leather overnight bag in one hand.
“Dad! I didn’t expect you to be home so soon. What happened to Florence?” Bas asked. The man took off his scarf, a beautiful black silk one with a gold pattern.
“That damn Sforza woman beat me to the sale. I swear if she is anything like Caterina, her possible ancestor, I’m seeing why the Medicis had so much trouble with her…” the man stopped when he spotted Bridget. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t see you there.”
