Page 2 of Here Be Dragons

Just my luck.

Before I could fuck things up even more, I apologized one last time, then hustled to the staff room. I clocked in exactly one minute late. My heart dropped in dismay.

I’d moved to Darlington for this job, and I really,reallyneeded to hang onto it. It was the only thing keeping me from being homeless. Getting the acceptance email had felt like a lucky break, the one I’d been waiting for. I absolutely could not mess this up.

I opened my locker and placed my lunch bag slash purse inside, only to realize that my tumbler was still on the floor out in the hall. I grabbed a handful of paper towels from the staff room table and started toward the door. Just as I reached for the handle, the door opened.

Mr. Tall, Dark and Moody walked in with my tumbler in his hand. He took one look at me and the paper towels in my hand and said, “It’s okay. Leonard’s mopping up.”

He handed me my tumbler, grabbed the paper towels, and continued to clean himself off.

“I’m really sorry,” I apologized again after locking up my belongings. “I’ll cover the dry cleaning. Just send me the bill.”

I didn’t have money lying around to do that, but I’d put it on my credit card if I had to. I really didn’t want to get fired my second week on the job.

“You’re the new girl.” It was more of a statement than a question.

The staff room door opened, and Janice, the lady I’d been working with at the front desk when I didn’t have guided tours to give, walked in. She glanced over at the large, imposing, and impeccably dressed man who’d just finished cleaning himself up and was tossing the crumpled-up ball of paper towels into thegarbage bin from across the room. Even with milky coffee stain all over his crotch, the man looked more put together than I could ever be. He oozed importance.

I swear, inhuman perfection like that should be illegal.

That had me wondering exactly what type of monster he was. He had to be a predator, for sure, because of the way he held himself, as if he owned everything. But having spent most of my life believing that magic only existed in fairy tales and movies, I wasn’t sure if it was considered rude to ask. The last thing I needed right now was more embarrassment.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were coming in today.” Janice’s eyes drifted to the darkened fabric on the guy’s pants and lingered for a moment too long before she realized she was staring. “Let me introduce you two, if you haven’t already met. Desmon, this is Carly. Carly, this is Desmon, the museum’s owner and director.”

Desmon? As in Desmon the Dragon of Darlington?

Holy crap!

I’d never known if they meant that literally, as in an actual, legit fire-breathing dragon—did those even exist?—or figuratively, as in he was filthy fucking rich and a cutthroat businessman, but either way, I was basically gawking at modern-day royalty, not to mention the big boss here. And somehow, I’d managed not only to spill my morning cuppa joe all over his perfectly pressed pants, I’d molested him too!

I was freaking screwed.

Chapter 2

Desmon

I took the buxombeauty’s hand eagerly before she offered it to me, worried I’d frightened her earlier with my snarling. I hadn’t meant to scare her, but her actions had surprised me, and the sound had tumbled from my mouth before I could rein it in. It seemed she was just as surprised by her actions as I was. She certainly hadn’t groped me on purpose.

It had been a while since a female had touched me, accidentally or not.

Her flustered reaction had gone from downright adorable to just this side of erotic when the blush had continued spreading from her rosy cheeks all the way down to her ample bosom. My eyes had lingered there as long as hers had on my crotch. She’d been embarrassed, apologizing profusely, which was really cute. Almost—almost—worth ruining one of my favorite pairs of slacks level of cute.

I wasn’t always in such an amicable mood, but I’d just gotten news of the whereabouts of the last piece of a puzzle I’d been trying to put together. It was the reason why I was in the museum today.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Instead of shaking Carly’s hand, I brought it to my lips and kissed the back, an old habit dating from the time when that was the proper greeting. The tiny, chaste kiss just made her face and decolletage turn an even deeper shade of red.

I reluctantly tore my gaze from her cleavage and up to her face. Hazel eyes met mine from behind a set of faux tortoiseshell frames. A matching tortoiseshell clip pulled her auburn hair back, a few pieces allowed to hang loose to frame her face.

We stared at each other in silence, the air between us sizzling.

Janice’s voice broke the tension. “He’s, um, old-fashioned like that.” Then she turned to me. “Desmon, don’t scare the poor girl. We need her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I released her hand and put on what I hoped was my least intimidating smile.

Janice was a stockily built, no-nonsense dwarven female who had been with the museum for years. Technically, working the front desk wasn’t her job, but we’d recently lost three naiad sisters who’d found the perfect lake to call home, and the University hadn’t sent in this semester’s detachment of volunteers yet.

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