So what was he doing on the side of the motorway, going nowhere?
We’re not going nowhere, his dragon said. We’re helping Holly. Look how happy she is.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Holly smiled at exactly that moment, and he caught himself watching her. Wistfully, almost. What would it feel like to be so spontaneous and free?
The wind stirred her hair, her clothes, and the wild flowers, making them all flutter and dance. Holly ran a hand over the knee-deep grass, letting it tickle her palm. Then she plucked a flower, held it to her nose, and smiled.
Beautiful, his dragon murmured.
Lachlan closed his eyes, fighting off the warm, cozy sensation building inside him. Now, more than ever, he couldn’t afford the distraction.
How can you not be distracted? his dragon grumbled.
Because it could cost her life, he reminded the beast.
On the surface, Scotland appeared to be safe and serene. But danger lurked, especially now that the Guardians had been tasked with guarding Europe’s number one enemy, Enzo Lombardi. The dragon shifter was keeping a low profile in his luxurious island prison, but it was only a matter of time before his crime-mob family would try to spring him free. Lachlan was sure of it.
Holly bounced back to the car, waved Mungo in, and sighed happily. “So pretty. You want to smell them?” She stuck the flowers under his nose, then under Mungo’s. “Nice, huh?”
“Nice,” he mumbled. They were, actually, with a light, sweet scent that reminded him of his favorite glen in the Highlands. A scent that somehow encompassed all his favorite things.
Like Holly, his dragon murmured.
He fought the urge to reach out and touch her hair. To brush a finger over her lips, then nuzzle her cheek. To cozy up and spend a long time holding his mate.
Mate, his dragon sighed dreamily. My destined mate.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly. Yes, she was. But destiny didn’t always have a man’s best interests at heart, let alone a country’s. He couldn’t let himself love her. He just couldn’t.
Holly grinned at him over the flowers. “You, my friend, have to learn to stop and smell the roses.” She chuckled and waved her bouquet. “Even if they’re butterwort and chickweed.”
“Maybe I should,” he breathed.
Then his phone rang, jolting him back to stark reality.
“Hello?” he barked, then swallowed and softened his voice. “Oh. Hello, Penelope.”
The shine went out of Holly’s eyes, and she turned back to the field.
Traffic thinned just enough for Lachlan to hit the blinker and accelerate onto the motorway, nodding absently to Penelope’s comments and interjecting along the way.
“Yes, we’re on our way… No, we have to stop off in Burgess first…” Could he get a picture of the sunset to help inspire her next poem? He sighed. Unicorns. “I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best.”
Holly rolled her eyes, and he wondered why.
“Yes, I have the letter for Duncan. Yes, for his eyes only,” he assured Penelope, wondering why her voice dropped to a whisper. “Mungo,” he groaned, pushing the dog away. “Right. I have to go.”
“You take care,” Penelope said.
“You too.” He ended the call, put down the phone, and… Wait. Why was Holly glaring?
He tilted his head, shifting his eyes between the road and her thunderous expression. “Something wrong?”
She folded her arms and glared even harder — so hard, her eyes glowed with all the ferocity of her inner dragon. Her nostrils flared as if she were ready to breathe fire.
Bloody hell. What had he done?
Holly shook her head, so bitterly disappointed, his gut wrenched.
She dropped her voice in an imitation of his. “‘I have to go.’ Seriously, Lachlan?”
He frowned. What was wrong with that?
“‘You too?’” Holly went on, echoing his words. Then she threw up her hands. “Can you not even tell her you love her? Would that be so bad?”
He nearly skidded off the road. “Eh?”
“How long have you and Penelope been together?”
“We’ve known each other for years, but…” Slowly, it dawned on him. “Penelope is only a friend.”
Holly huffed. “Right. Sure.”
“She is.”
Holly cackled. “You’re not the only one who can connect a few clues, Sherlock. I had you figured out the second you passed her a tissue.”
Lachlan furrowed his brow. Handing over a tissue hardly constituted a declaration of love.
Mungo stuck his head between them, which may or may not have been a good thing.
Good, Lachlan decided when an awkward silence ensued.
Bad, his dragon tut-tutted. Now you’ve made Holly cross.
Well, it wasn’t his fault she jumped to conclusions. Because, honestly — him and Penelope?
His dragon wrinkled its nose. Never. Not in that way.
Then it hit him. “Wait. Are you jealous?”
Holly crossed her arms firmly. “Ten years ago, maybe. But I’m over you now.”
Her words stung more than they should have, and he wondered why. The same way he wondered why it felt so important to explain.
“Penelope is not my girlfriend, and she never will be.”
Grim silence told him Holly didn’t believe him, but what could he do besides shake his head in dismay?
Tell her. Explain, his dragon urged.
He glared at the road. Why, when there was nothing to explain?
Because it matters. Because we love her, his dragon insisted.
He clenched his jaw, but it was hard to deny, no matter how hard he tried.
“There hasn’t been anyone since you,” he finally mumbled.
Holly huffed. “Try again, Hot Stuff.”
He gripped the steering wheel harder. “I mean it. Not Penelope, not anyone else. No one since we…we…” He scooped the air with his hand, trailing off.
Since that incredible night we made love, his dragon filled in.
Holly’s disbelieving look gradually morphed into a shocked stare. “No one?”
He went back to glaring at the road. “No one.”
It wasn’t for lack of offers. And there had been times when he’d been tempted to give in to carnal desires. He was a man after all. But ultimately, he’d backed away every time.
What’s the matter? No woman good enough for you, man? his comrades used to goad.
If only they had understood. Touching any woman but Holly felt wrong.
Of course, it would be. Holly is our mate. Our one. Our only, his dragon crooned.
Right on cue, his old mantra filled his mind. Love was foolish. Unnecessary. Love got in the way of a man’s plans — important plans designed for the greater good of shifters. Above all, love got in the way of duty that went beyond his own wishes or desires. Other men might disgrace their families, but not him.
“Really no one?” Holly’s voice was a hush.
He shook his head, muttering, “Really.” Did she have to rub it in?
A glance in her direction showed Holly speechless and stunned, rather than judgmental or amused like some of his comrades had been.
“Wow,” she murmured a moment later.
Lachlan sighed. If only she knew what an understatement that was.
So tell her, his dragon hissed.