Fire Maidens: Portugal Page 4

  “So, you chased away Duarte. Happy end, right?”

  Marco shook his head. Finn didn’t seem to get it. “Now, I’m stuck with this woman.”

  “Is she that bad?”

  No, she wasn’t. That was the problem.

  Finn smacked him on the back. “You know, I think we should switch. I’ll stay in sunny Lisbon, and you can go to gloomy Ireland. You’ll feel right at home there.”

  Marco scowled. He wasn’t gloomy. He just wanted to be left alone — especially by destiny.

  Footfalls sounded on the staircase, and Marco jumped to his feet. Finn followed a moment later, eyeing him, then Laura.

  “Good morning,” Marco said, though it came out all snippy.

  Good morning, his dragon crooned.

  “Hello.” Finn waved.

  “Morning,” Laura called shyly.

  Marco knew there was something that usually followed Good morning, but his mind blanked on everything but how beautiful she was. Long, slim legs. Shiny hair. Innocent, doe eyes. Slender hands that clutched that crimson robe.

  Our robe, his dragon breathed.

  Christ. What was wrong with him?

  “Finn, Laura.” He waved between the two, introducing them curtly. “Laura, Finn. Would you like some breakfast?”

  There. That came out fairly well, right?

  But Laura gulped, tightening the robe’s belt. “Yes, but I wouldn’t mind…um…”

  Marco frowned, unable to interpret her vague gestures. What?

  Clothes, you idiot, Finn muttered in his mind.

  Marco jumped to his feet, bumping the table hard enough to make his coffee spill over the side of the cup.

  Finn chuckled into his mind. Has it been that long since you had a woman over?

  Marco made a face. He refused to have women over. He did not need or want a woman in his life. Even if all women weren’t manipulative seductresses, it was hard enough to spot the difference to ever be tempted again.

  Finn rolled his eyes. If this woman is such a seductress, why is she so desperate for clothes?

  Marco had to give him that. He muttered an apology, led Laura upstairs, and then…got completely stuck. What use did he have for women’s clothes in his bachelor pad?

  Finn shoved him aside. “Pardon my friend. He’s not used to entertaining guests.”

  Laura seemed more relieved than worried. “That’s okay. I have some clothes…” Her face fell. “At my hotel. The Dom Pedro.”

  “That dive?” Finn laughed.

  She slumped, and Marco nudged Finn. Not helping.

  “Don’t worry.” Finn plucked several items from Marco’s closet. “We’ll make do for now. It won’t be flash, but it will be comfortable. Here. Boxers…sports pants…”

  Laura held them up skeptically, and anger flooded through Marco’s veins.

  No one takes care of that woman but me, his dragon declared.

  Except he didn’t want to take care of her. And he really, really didn’t want to see her in his clothes. His dragon was already smitten, and even his human side was starting to crack.

  She’s our mate. Our destiny, his dragon cried.

  But he didn’t want a mate. Destiny had to wise up and reroute this woman to someone else.

  Briefly, he pictured fixing Laura up with Finn, because every dragon — other than himself — pined for a mate. But the idea sickened Marco and outraged his inner dragon.

  No one gets that woman but me.

  Ignoring him, Finn pressed the clothes into Laura’s arms. “You can tie those pants as tight as you need and roll up the cuffs. Same with this shirt. That will do until we can pick up your clothes from the hotel, all right?”

  Laura nodded. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Finn shooed Marco down the stairs, following closely. “Take your time.”

  Take her time? Marco grumbled. He wanted Laura out of his life as quickly as possible. Didn’t he?

  Finn dug right in to a second helping of breakfast. Marco glared at the newspaper, though the headlines were a blur.

  When Laura came down the stairs a second time, Marco’s mouth fell open. Then he jolted, forcing himself to look back at the paper.

  “Not good?” Laura frowned at the cream button-down she’d put on over a pair of navy sweat pants.

  The sweat pants were lumpy and shapeless, the shirt several sizes too big. But she still looked amazing, dammit.

  Finn patted the chair beside him. “We’re not formal here. Dig in.”

  The closer Laura came, the more Marco’s heart raced. When she slid into the chair beside him, he broke out in a sweat.

  Finn turned to Laura. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Her scent wafted over to Marco, making his dragon hum.

  “So, what do you do for work?” Finn asked Laura.

  Marco hated small talk, but he couldn’t help listening in.

  “I work for a bicycle advocacy group.”

  “That’s a job?” he blurted.

  Laura sat very, very straight, and suddenly, he could see more fiery dragon in her than mere human.

  “Yes, it is a job. An important one. What do you do?” she snipped.

  “I manage my inheritance.”

  Laura snorted. “That’s a job?”

  Finn laughed. “Touché. Not a woman to argue with, my friend.” He offered Laura a basket of freshly baked buns. “Would you like one?”

  “Thank you.” She seized one, then proceeded to mutilate it with the wrong side of her butter knife.

  “Works better this way,” Finn pointed out with a smile.

  “Oh.” Laura sighed. “Thanks.”

  Marco gritted his teeth. How did Finn manage to correct that woman without ticking her off?

  It’s all in the smile, his friend replied, reading his mind.

  Steam rose from the warm bun, along with the aroma of melting butter. But neither of those things was as enticing as Laura’s fresh, flowery scent. It swirled around Marco’s nostrils, tempting him to lean over to inhale more.

  And, oops. He really did lean. Then he jolted away and grabbed his coffee.

  Finn raised his eyebrows. Everything all right?

  No, everything was not all right. Laura’s fragrance made it impossible to think straight. How was he going to get rid of her if he couldn’t make cool, calculated decisions?

  With a screech, Marco pushed his chair back and hurried toward the door.

  “I have to go.”

  Finn frowned. “Where?”

  He gestured vaguely. “I have a meeting.”

  “What meeting?”

  The one I just invented, Marco nearly said. Then his fuzzy brain cleared a little. “I have an idea about who can help you.” He pointed to Laura.

  “Who? What? Wait.” Laura blinked. “You’re leaving?”

  “What about us?” Finn protested.

  By then, Marco was already at the stairs, and he feared breaking his momentum now that he finally had some.

  “Talk. Explain. You know — about shifter things.”

  Then he was out the door, leaving Laura and Finn staring wordlessly.

  Chapter Five

  Laura had been sure nightmares would keep her from getting a wink of rest, but she’d slept like a rock. Like a baby, even, feeling watched over and safe. When she woke, the sun was flooding into Marco’s guest room, and every corner of that sleek, white-on-white space gleamed. Then church bells chimed, and she’d stood, peering outside.

  Was it already nine o’clock?

  And, wow. What a view. Marco’s house — make that, Marco’s villa — was at the very top of a hill. Beneath it, the crooked houses of the old town tumbled toward the docks as if hurrying to set sail and let the wind carry them away.

  But voices carried from downstairs, and the sense of peace she’d woken with quickly dispelled. She’d smoothed her hair down — God, what a mess — slipped into the robe, and cinched the belt tightly before tiptoeing downstairs.<
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  The house was built in a spiraling series of airy rooms she peeked into one by one. There was a den, a library, an office, and a room solely dedicated to a telescope aimed at the harbor front.

  But the voices had drawn her on, and on the living room level, she’d found Marco and a second man. Finn, Marco had said.

  She barely noticed, though, because all her senses focused on Marco. His heady, pine-and-laurel scent. Those intense blue eyes, hiding a sea of mysteries. His wide shoulders, set stiffly on guard against…against… She wasn’t sure what, but boy, was the man uptight. He’d practically thrown those loaner clothes at her, and when she’d come downstairs a second time, Marco had stared like she had two heads. Then he’d snapped his head away, refusing the make eye contact.

  Clearly, the man hated her. Well, fine. She didn’t like him either.

  The thing was, she hung on his every word, and whenever he looked at her, her body heated. What was wrong with her?

  He was just too handsome for his own good, that was it. The man was like a Hermes ad come to life — hot, sharply dressed even at that early hour, and slightly dangerous.

  But did he have any qualities worth admiring, other than the fact that he’d saved her the previous night? Not really, no. She steeled herself against the childish attraction.

  It’s not childish. It’s destiny, her dragon whispered.

  She crossed her arms. If a man with that little regard for anyone’s feelings was her destiny, she would hightail it back to New England and hide in the hills.

  When Marco stammered something about a meeting and stormed out, Laura stared and turned to Finn.

  “Is he always so…so…” She wavered. Gruff? Gorgeous? Infuriating?

  “Yes.” Finn sighed.

  She blinked. Which was it? Or did Finn mean all three?

  Outside, a powerful motorcycle roared to life, then zoomed down the road. Laura strained for the sound when it faded, wondering why she felt like a lost puppy.

  “More coffee?” Finn swirled the pot.

  She mustered a weak smile. Coffee would be a start.

  She held out her mug. Like Marco, Finn was a tall, chiseled-with-muscle military type. Unlike Marco, he offered more than a few curt words at a time, and he smiled. Lots. In the next few minutes, Finn went through an entire treasure chest of smiles, from a tiny dimple to a tight curl of his lips and a hearty grin that showed off his perfect teeth. Any one of those smiles could melt a girl’s heart, but Laura’s was strangely unmoved. Finn put her at ease the way a long-lost brother would, while Marco…

  Her heart thumped harder for the next few beats. The man was a dragon, for goodness’ sake!

  Of course, she was a dragon too.

  Her inner beast stirred and murmured, We’re perfect for each other.

  They were not. Absolutely, positively not, unless it was in a totally unhealthy, opposites-attracting way. And she was not going down that twisted path to heartbreak.

  “So, you’re new in town,” Finn said. “New to shifting, too, from what Marco said.”

  She dipped her head once, then sipped her coffee, faking nonchalance.

  “Are you mated?”

  Laura barely kept from spitting her coffee across the table.

  Family legends had kept that term — mating — alive, but only in a fairy-tale, happily-ever-after way. Because, really. Who in this modern day and age fell in love at first sight? Who immediately knew — just knew — they were destined for each other forever?

  Her eyes darted to the door, and her nostrils flared, hoping to catch one last whiff of Marco’s scent.

  “Um, no.” She set down the coffee cup with a clatter. “Not mated. You?”

  Finn flashed that winning athlete’s grin. “Not yet.”

  She studied him. Was Finn Marco’s roommate? Then she froze. Could he be Marco’s boyfriend?

  A tinge of jealousy went through her. Finn must have picked up on the vibe, because he grinned in amusement. “I’m still looking for Miss Right, but someday…”

  Laura tilted her head. Had his smile just faltered slightly, or was that all in her head?

  Finn pulled out his wallet and flipped through several pictures. “Luckily, I’m not under pressure, thanks to my sister and her mate producing lots of offspring for my parents to dote on. That’s Thomas, my oldest nephew, and Brendan, Nevan, Padraig…”

  He tapped his finger fondly over each bright, shiny face.

  “Did you say sister or sisters?” Laura asked, losing count at four kids.

  Finn laughed. “One sister. Lots of children. We’re Irish, after all. Plus, her mate is a deer shifter, and you know how they can be.”

  Laura furrowed her brow. No, she didn’t.

  Lucky for her, Finn wasn’t the tight-lipped enigma Marco was, and over the next half hour, she learned more about shifters than she had from that grouchy eagle shifter — and she’d stayed in Vermont for three weeks.

  Finn told her about all the different species of shifters, from wolves to lions to Ireland’s giant deer. There were even unicorns, but almost exclusively in Scotland, from what Finn said. Some shifters stayed close to home, while others ranged far and wide, as Finn and Marco had in the Foreign Legion.

  “The French Foreign Legion?”

  Finn nodded casually. “There was a whole company of us. Other than our sergeant, a bastard of a wolf shifter, the lads were great. Like brothers, really.”

  His voice and gaze drifted off for a moment, and Laura wondered how much he missed it. A lot, she’d guess, given that Finn was in Portugal and not back in Ireland. What, if anything, kept him from going home?

  Finn went on for quite a while, and though the words flowed freely, Laura was sure he didn’t divulge the full truth. Finn’s military tales were all about practical jokes, wacky characters, and humorous miscommunications between men from around the globe. The only things he complained about were the food and grueling hundred-kilometer marches.

  “The only one who liked those was Sergio.” Finn rolled his eyes. “Typical wolf.”

  He even laughed about serving France with a mop and broom — some kind of joke derived from the Foreign Legion’s motto — but when it came to action, Finn didn’t utter a word.

  Laura gazed out over the roofs of Lisbon. What had driven Marco to give up his luxurious lifestyle for the military? More importantly, where was he now?

  She caught herself there. Why was she so eager to see him again?

  “Who are the Guardians?” she asked, getting back on track. Marco clearly wasn’t keen on helping her, but if she found a way to contact the Guardians, maybe they would — whoever they were. Her family had been fuzzy on the details.

  Finn leaned back from the table and looked out over Lisbon’s neighborhoods. “Every city in Europe has its own group of Guardians. Think of them as…a group of peace-keepers, you could say.”

  She frowned. “Keeping the peace between…?”

  “Between shifters. We’re as bad as humans when it comes to getting along. You know — greed. Jealousy. Tribal feuds. Petty disagreements that flare into all-out wars…”

  Laura gripped her mug tightly. “The problems of the human world are bad enough. If there are shifter problems on the same scale, that’s terrifying.”

  Finn shook his head. “Most shifters live by an honor code, and they take it seriously.” His eyes shone with determination, and for the first time that morning, his soldier side showed. “There are some bad eggs, though, but for the most part, the Guardians take care of those.”

  The skin of Laura’s neck tingled, and she cringed at the memory of Fausto reaching for her. “You mean, vampires?”

  She half expected Finn to snap his head around in shock, but he merely shook his head. “Most vampires play by the rules.”

  Most wasn’t all, but that didn’t seem to concern Finn.

  “I wouldn’t call any particular species particularly troublesome. But trouble can arise anywhere, anytime.” He motioned over th
e city. “Shifters are a tiny minority among humans. Very few humans know we exist, and we like to keep it that way.”

  “What exactly do the Guardians do?”

  “Mostly, they maintain peace. Shifter conflicts tend to spill over into the human world, and when they do, they’re magnified a hundred times.”

  “So, the Guardians are the good guys?” Her voice rose in hope.

  Finn hesitated, and Laura’s hopes dimmed again.

  “They are the good guys,” Finn started.

  “But…?” she prompted, reading his expression.

  “Well, they’re very…traditional.” He sighed. “The Guardians of Ireland are centuries behind the times, and the Guardians of Lisbon are just as bad, from what I’ve heard. Well, not bad. Settled in their ways, I suppose you’d say. Plus, they’ve gotten complacent. Portugal has its problems, but overall, things are on an upswing. No terrorist attacks here and not as much political bickering. That makes it easy for the Guardians to forget how fragile peace can be.”

  Finn uttered peace in a wistful, faraway tone, as only a soldier could. Then he went on.

  “Anyway, the Guardians of Lisbon need a good shaking up, if you ask me.”

  “Is Marco doing any of the shaking up?”

  She could picture him striding into a room of wise old men, using his natural authority to make a passionate appeal for a just cause.

  Finn scratched his jaw. “The first rule of the Foreign Legion is not to ask about the past, so I don’t know. But I get the feeling he tried.”

  “And?”

  Finn squared his chin, then glanced at her as if he’d said too much. “You’ll have to ask him.” He stood quickly, flashing an apologetic smile. “Anyway, I’d better go.”

  She looked around in alarm. “Go where?”

  He chuckled. “To the lovely Dom Pedro Hotel, to fetch your things. Or are you unhappy with your accommodations at the Casa da Silva?” He motioned around.

  Laura made a face. “I’m not sure Marco is happy about having me here.”

  Finn burst out laughing, then clapped her on the shoulder. “Marco’s world needs a little rocking, if you ask me. And you’re the perfect person to do it.”

  She frowned. “What makes you say that?”

  Finn looked off in the direction Marco had gone, then back at her with a sly grin. “Oh, just a hunch. Something je ne sais quoi.”