Page 4 of Draco's Fire

She couldn’t take this back to Phil so soon. He’d balk and throw up all possible bureaucratic roadblocks—not out of malice—but a middle-management reflex was often just as deadly. Or tougher to bulldoze through, anyway.

PEACE would only act once she tied up the package with a sparkly bow.

Shayla pulled out her phone and got to work. Her plan was simple.

Find Tyson Stallard.

Get him to talk to her.

Convince him that his rally was absolutely the wrong thing at the wrong time—a perfect storm of disaster ready to blow.

Easy, right?

Feckin’ hell.

Three

Tyson

Tyson was ready for today to be over, yet it was only noon. He sighed when there was a ring on his phone. He picked it without having to see who it was.

His secretary, Brenda, spoke up in a gentle tone. "There is a PEACE agent here at work that would like to speak to you."

Tyson leaned back in his leather chair, not really sure if he wanted to meet with anyone at the moment. He didn't want to drive down to work when he still had so much to get done at his home office.

"Can she come back another day? I'd rather not have to come down to the office." He spoke up, tired and agitated, trying not to sound rude to Brenda. He'd had a long morning, and he still had plenty of paperwork that needed to be filled out sitting on his desk.

"She seemed pretty adamant about speaking to you today. I could give her your home address if you're fine with that."

Tyson grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He didn't prefer for people to meet him at his house, but he also didn't want to go in. "Fine." He waved his hand. "Send her up to my apartment."

"I will do that. She should be there in half an hour." Brenda hung up without another word.

Tyson leaned back in his chair, turning it until he looked outside his big bay windows that lead to his roof access yard. He had a fake lawn with a few benches. Living on the top floor in the penthouse did have its perks, one being a breathtaking view right away in the morning.

He needed to focus. He had too many tasks that needed his attention, and he couldn't be wasting it on looking at the view. He turned around, putting his attention back into his paperwork.

It wasn't long before he heard the ring of his apartment door. He buzzed the gal in, not bothering to get up. His office was right off the main entrance, and he even left his office door open.

He heard her heels hit the hardwood floor, "Hello?" She spoke up, and his body froze. He blinked, pulling his gaze away from his paper.

The gal stepped into his office, and it took the air out of his lungs. She stood a little taller than maybe 5'5 with thick luscious brown hair that fell in relaxed curls around her face. She was wearing a blouse with some black slacks, but he could tell she had some muscles underneath her outfit.

Tyson couldn't breathe. His lungs just stopped working, and he felt his eyes staring at her.

"Are you Tyson?" She spoke up, stepping a few more feet into his office. She had a purse slung over her shoulder and a binder in her arms.

Tyson physically felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach, and his entire body was shutting down. He felt cold and then boiling hot. He was starting to sweat.

The gal tilted her head, "Are you ok?"

Shit! He quickly nodded his head, searching for his voice. He took his jacket off, "I'm just fine." His voice cracked, and he sounded like a teen boy going through puberty.

"Are you sure?" She tilted her head, and he watched her skirt hick-up ever so slightly. Tyson swallowed and felt himself grow hard instantly. He knew right at that instant she was his mate.

Tyson nodded his head, "Yes, what is your name?" He quickly tried to smooth his hand down his pants, his cock painfully hard against his pants.

He waved towards the seat across from him, and the gal sat. "My name is Shayla, and I work for PEACE. I just overheard that you were going to be holding a rally. Is that correct?"

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