Bodyguard Shifters Collection 1 Read online

  "Is my decision," Tessa said.

  "Well, yes, but Tessa, he's trying to kill you! You don't know what dragons are like, how hard-headed they can be—"

  "I'm starting to wonder if the apple didn't fall very far from the tree."

  That shut him up, but only for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Ever since we came here ..." She raised her hands and let them fall in despair. The kitten jumped out of her lap. "Never mind."

  "Tessa ..." Ben sat beside her on the bed. "If you want to leave, just say the word. We can leave the necklace here. It's even more likely now that the necklace is how Reive has been tracking you, and if my dad wants to return it so badly, let him deal with it."

  Tessa didn't even notice she'd raised her hand to the necklace until she felt her fingers curl protectively around the hard lump of crystal under her sweatshirt. "And then what?" she asked defensively. "Live on the run? The only thing worse than knowing there's a dragon assassin after me is not knowing for sure until one lands on my front lawn."

  Ben laid a hand on her leg. "I'm not trying to suggest—"

  A brisk knock at the door interrupted him. Ben sighed and got up to answer it. Tessa took her hand off her chest. Getting rid of the thing would be the answer, wouldn't it? But why did she feel like that wouldn't solve her problems at all?

  The person in the doorway was someone Tessa hadn't seen before, a middle-aged maid with a round, matronly figure, but a ramrod-straight back and military bearing. "The boss wanted me to tell you to dress for dinner. It'll be served in half an hour in the gold rotunda." She shoved a stack of clothing into Ben's arms.

  "We're not interested—"

  "Tell him thank you," Tessa interrupted.

  The maid gave them both a brief nod and left.

  "Tessa," Ben began.

  "You don't make decisions for both of us." She stood up and reached for the clothes in his arms. "And I'm hungry. If we're going to be in this ridiculous mansion, I might as well get a good meal out of it. Let me see what he wants me to wear."

  ***

  Ben wondered how it had all gotten so out of control.

  Tessa had clearly been upset ever since they'd gotten to his father's estate. He just couldn't figure out why. Everything he tried to do to smooth it over seemed to be making it worse.

  But when she stepped out of the bathroom, where she had retreated to get ready, his breath caught in his throat.

  Darius was a man with a lot of flaws, but he had an eye for aesthetics like no one Ben had ever met, and he knew in an instant that Darius had picked out the dress specifically with Tessa's coloring in mind. The coral and amber colors brought out the beautiful highlights in her warm, light brown skin; floating, layered skirts and a bodice with curling stitchery emphasized her curves. The dress left her shoulders bare, and though all she'd done was comb back her short hair and fix it in place with some spray, the effect was supermodel stunning. High coral-colored gloves covered the cat scratches on her arms.

  She wore the necklace proudly and defiantly, the crystal nestling between the caramel mounds of her breasts.

  Ben breathed a soft, "Wow."

  Tessa's eyes had kindled warmly as soon as she saw him in his tux; she swept her approving gaze up and down his body. "You clean up nice, Detective Keegan."

  "It's actually Lieutenant Keegan." He held out an arm, and she accepted it. "But you can call me Ben. You look amazing."

  Tessa smiled and ducked her head. It was the first time they'd been truly easy with each other since they set foot in his father's house. "Is it really short for Benedict? I thought it was Benjamin."

  "Now you know my deep dark secret." He smiled down at her. "And why I usually ask everyone at the precinct to call me Keegan. Dad claims it's an old family name, but I don't think that makes it any better."

  "It's a good name. I like it." She squeezed his arm.

  It was good to feel her warmth against his side, though he could also feel her tension. Trying to soothe her, he said, "Don't be nervous about dinner. It's not going to be that formal. I think Dad's just trying to intimidate us."

  He could feel her going stiff and pulling away. "I'm not afraid."

  "It's not that; it's just that I thought you might not be used to formal dining occasions—"

  "Because I grew up in foster homes, rather than living in a mansion like your family?"

  "Tessa," was all he could say, sudden awareness of the issue bothering her hitting him like a thunderbolt. She felt out of place here, strange and wrong; of course she would. He did, too. "Tessa, no, it's not like that—"

  "I may not know much about fancy dining, as you so helpfully pointed out, but one thing I do know is that it's rude to be late," she said, and swept out the door in front of him.

  Nice going, his panther helpfully contributed.

  Shut up unless you can say something useful.

  He caught up with Tessa outside the door, where she'd stopped because she clearly had no idea where to go. She took his arm without looking at him.

  Ben started to open his mouth and then decided to let discretion be the better part of valor for the moment. It wasn't like they could have a private chat in the hallway, where servants or his father could come upon them at any moment. Later, he would have to reassure her.

  As he led her through the mansion, he found himself noticing, with an outsider's eye, how easily he navigated the maze of the enormous house. No wonder she felt out of place. Ben remembered all too well what it had been like stepping into his house for the first time as an over-awed 13-year-old, trying to straighten his back and brush out the creases in the suit his mother had dressed him in. He had never even met his father as a young child, and as a teenager, he'd spent their ever-more-awkward visits trying desperately not to be the massive disappointment that he could tell his father thought he was.

  It was only as an adult that he'd decided it didn't matter. He was never going to be the son his father wanted. He couldn't be. Darius didn't like him or care about him, and that was something he simply had to learn to live with. So he had; he'd built up a life he enjoyed, a career he liked. It had been empty without Tessa to fill his heart, but now he had her, too.

  In your face, Dad. I never needed you at all.

  But Tessa didn't know that. She saw him seemingly at home in all this opulence—it ought to look that way; he'd spent a lonely teenagehood desperately trying to play-act as if he knew how to navigate his father's world, until the lie became reality. She must see herself as an outsider to his life, not as the true center of it, the one thing without which the rest of it would unravel.

  Panthers might not have a hoard, as such, and therefore no Heart of it, but Tessa was his heart, and had been from the moment he'd met her. Maybe there was more dragon in him than he'd thought, except all he wanted to hoard was her.

  And he didn't have the first clue how to tell her that, especially in this place that was so antithetical to who and what he was.

  You could start by just, you know, telling her, his panther supplied.

  It's not that easy in the human world.

  Is it? his panther asked. Or are you making it harder on yourself, and on her, than you have to?

  I could tell her in words, Ben thought at his panther, glancing down at Tessa's head so close to his shoulder, and yet so far away. But she's been hurt so many times, and with this on top of everything, I don't know if she'll believe me. I have to show her.

  Somehow.

  ***

  Tessa was braced for still more over-the-top decorating ridiculousness in the dining room, and she wasn't wrong (were those cherubs on the walls? with gilt inlays? and who in the world needed a table that huge unless they were planning to feed an entire soccer team?) but it all washed out of her head when she saw who was already sitting at the table with Darius.

  "Melody!" she cried. She pulled her hand out of the crook of Ben's arm and ran forward, stumbling until she realized she had to hold up these he
avy skirts. She wasn't used to wearing dresses, let alone ones like this.

  But Melody was already standing up, and the fact that she looked just as uncomfortable as Tessa felt (even though she wore a silver-and-black dress that, of course, made her look absolutely stunning) went a long way toward soothing Tessa's out-of-place feelings. Melody dropped a tiny silver fork to clatter on her plate and came to meet Tessa halfway across the expanse of marble floor—limping, Tessa couldn't help noticing. Melody winced as they hugged, and when Tessa pulled back, she saw bruises on the creamy expanse of her friend's chest above the dress's V-cut neckline.

  "You're hurt!" Tessa said.

  "I just took a few dings in the fight with Reive. It'll be healed by morning."

  Melody slid her arm around Tessa's waist and the two women went to the table together. Darius was, of course, at the head of the table, and had already risen from his place to pull out the chair beside Melody, who had been seated at his left hand. Ben started to take the next chair down, beside Tessa, but Darius shook his head and gestured to the seat at his right hand.

  Tessa was fully expecting Ben to simply go around and sit where indicated—a place was already set there, with a glass of wine—but Ben, with a small smile, sat in the chair he'd selected, far enough down the table that Darius would have to lean past Melody and Tessa to talk to him.

  Darius clenched his teeth and made a peremptory gesture at a servant who had been hovering in the wings, so unobtrusive Tessa hadn't even noticed her until she hurried forward to move the glass of wine from the pre-selected spot to Ben's place.

  To her relief, however, she found that sandwiched between Melody and Ben, she didn't feel quite as nervous as she had on the walk to the dining room. What was Darius going to do, turn into a dragon and try to eat her? If he did, it wouldn't even be the first time that kind of thing had happened to her today. And Melody was a dragon, too. She felt almost safe, for the first time today, with the two of them at her side.

  "You didn't text me back," she murmured to Melody. "Don't scare me like that. I didn't know what Reive might have done to you."

  "I'm sorry. I don't have my phone on me. It's been ..." She heaved a sigh. "... a day."

  "You're telling me—"

  Tessa jumped and broke off when the server appeared at her elbow, placing a small silver dish in front of each of them. The dishes each contained a single tiny tart, drizzled with chocolate and just large enough to accommodate a single blackberry on top. "Compliments of the chef," the server murmured.

  Tessa stared at the tart and wondered how you were supposed to eat that. Pick it up? But she'd get chocolate on her gloves. Cut it up? Stab it on the end of a fork? Was this some kind of etiquette test?

  She surreptitiously snuck a peek at the others to see what they were doing, just in time to see Melody reach for her fork and miss on the first try. Tessa had been so distracted with everything else that it had taken her this long to notice that Melody, for the first time since Tessa had known her, wasn't wearing her glasses.

  Tessa leaned close enough to whisper, "Don't be a vain goose. You're blind as a bat without your glasses. I've known you long enough to know that."

  "Dad doesn't like them," Melody whispered back. "He thinks they look unrefined."

  Darius and Ben were oblivious to the women's whispered conversation; they were too busy having a staring competition down the length of the table as Darius sipped on his wine and Ben blatantly ignored the hint to pick up his own glass.

  "So what? It's your face. Do you always eat dinner with your dad just having to guess where everything is?"

  "I normally have my contact lenses with me. This time I left in kind of a hurry and didn't have time to pack."

  "So put the glasses on. You fought a dragon today; the least you can do is not accidentally stab yourself with your own fork."

  Melody opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it. "You know what?" she said. "You're right." She reached under a fold of her silver-and-black skirts. There was a little rustling as she undid a hidden pocket, and a moment later she slipped her glasses onto her nose. Now the effect was much less "stunning debutante" and more "librarian dressed up for a library function."

  Tessa found it a vast relief. She looked so much more like Melody that way: still very pretty, but in the usual Melody kind of way. It made Tessa wonder if the reason why Melody normally tried to make herself look as dowdy as possible was because every time she was around her father, she had to deal with being forced into the role of elegant firstborn daughter, and it didn't suit her.

  Melody gave Tessa a quick, conspiratorial smile, and quietly carved off a bite of her tart, this time hitting it perfectly on the first try. Darius turned to look at her, mouth open to say something—then stopped, and looked again, longer.

  Tessa waited with bated breath for him to say something about the glasses. Oh, she couldn't wait. She had so many things to say to him about the way he treated his children.

  As if he could sense Tessa's pent-up urge to unload on him, Darius kept his thoughts to himself and merely took a sip of his wine.

  Melody kept her gaze on her plate as she ate her tart in tiny bites. Ben was idly stabbing his with his fork, over and over, as if he planned to kill it with a thousand tiny puncture wounds.

  Tessa cut her tart in half with her fork and sampled it. She wasn't impressed; the flavor was bland, stuck somewhere between sweet and savory. Though maybe it was the tense air at the table sucking the flavor out of everything.

  A soup course came around, served in wide shallow bowls that seemed designed to tip into a person's lap. Tessa watched Melody so she knew which spoon to pick up from the complex place setting, and poked at the soup carefully. It seemed to be some kind of seafood. She took a cautious sip. It was good, delicately flavored and just a little spicy, though slightly on the cool side for her taste.

  "This is a traditional family recipe from the old country," Darius remarked in a mild tone that nevertheless carried all the way down the table. "It's said that back in my grandfather's time, if someone offended one of the old dragon clans, their punishment was to be made into a broth and served to the clan in this style."

  Tessa dropped her spoon.

  "For fuck's sake, Dad," Ben snapped. "Are you capable of at least acting like a civilized person for as long as it takes to—"

  "May I have the recipe?" Tessa asked loudly.

  This was followed by a silence so profound that the sound of a servant's foot scuffling in the hallway seemed very loud.

  "After all," Tessa went on, "I'm dating your son, so I need to learn his family traditions." She forced herself to lift a spoonful of the soup to her lips, all the while staring at Darius and chanting in her head, It's only seafood, it's only seafood. "And," she added, wiping her lips with her napkin, "I want to know how to behave properly if someone offends me."

  She followed this up with another stare at Darius. His face was completely blank. So was Melody's. Tessa didn't even want to look at Ben.

  And ... now is the point when Ben's father transforms into a dragon and eats me in front of his entire family. This day is going great. At least now I know I'll be served in a tasty broth.

  Then Darius laughed.

  "Perhaps this one is, after all, a suitable mate for a dragon," he declared, pointing at Tessa with his spoon. "Is the soup to your liking, or would you prefer a different course?"

  "The soup is entirely to my liking," she said, dipping her spoon again for another bite, this time with only a minimal amount of jaw-clenching. It's only seafood ... "And I was very serious about wanting the recipe."

  "I'll have it send to your room. Er ... where those animals still remain, I presume."

  "Oh yes, that's another thing," Tessa said. "We need a litterbox. They've probably already taken a dump or two on your nice white carpet, most likely under the bed. There's kitten food in the car, by the way. They'll need that too."

  She delivered all of this in her best approximation
of the peremptory tones Darius had used on them earlier. Okay, NOW is when I get eaten ...

  But the thing was, she thought she knew how to deal with people like Darius. The ones she was used to weren't dragons. They were customers who wanted this exact cat even though the information packet clearly stated "No homes with small children" and there were half a dozen small children clinging to them but I'm paying for this cat and I want this one! They were social services workers who held her teenage life in their hands and thought they knew what was best for her better than she did.

  You didn't back down, didn't show weakness, and didn't yell. You just planted your feet and told them what they were going to do. If you made yourself impossible to move, most people got tired of trying to move you and went around instead.

  Darius smiled slightly and turned his head. "Malva? You heard her instructions. Please relay them to Maddox. I'm sure he'll enjoy it."

  "You're just trying to make that guy hate my guts, aren't you, Dad?" Ben said, with a levity in his voice that Tessa knew him well enough to know was forced. But he seemed a little less tense than earlier. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her bare shoulder.

  "You've shown that you're perfectly capable of annoying him yourself," Darius said. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as another course was brought around, this time a flaky fish garnished with parsley and lemon. "And I thought you'd outgrown dragging me into your messes whenever you get in a scrape."

  "That's rich, coming from you, when you're the one who got me involved in the first place." Ben slipped his hand down to rest on Tessa's gloved forearm. "Plus, if an assassin hunting my mate and nearly killing my sister is what you call a 'scrape,' I don't want to find out your idea of a serious problem. So how is your 'research' going so far?"

  Darius considered them over his steepled fingers and then picked up his fork. "Reive's clan leader is his great-uncle, Heikon Corcoran. Intriguingly enough, the family's gone through some upheaval in the last couple of decades. Heikon was deposed in a coup orchestrated by his younger brother Braun—Reive's grandfather. Several other members of the clan were in on it, including Reive's father. Recently, within the last couple of years, Heikon reclaimed his place at the top of the clan and had the conspirators executed."