Dragon Island [Dragon Love 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3

  What the hell was she going to do now? She searched the horizon again and, again, came up empty. Where was she anyway? As far as she knew, the ship hadn’t been close to any islands, and she didn’t remember drifting very far. In fact, the last thing she remembered was staring into black eyes and thinking she was about to die. Like the wuss she was, she’d fainted.

  Wait. No, that wasn’t all I saw.

  She laughed, realizing that she must’ve been hallucinating. Everything she’d been through, discovering the men and their loot, getting chased, falling overboard, and fainting as the shark circled her had made her go a little crazy. She’d imagined the feel of claws closing around her. She’d spaced out and dreamt that she was flying. She’d been delusional when she’d felt something huge covering her, keeping her warm. Something that had felt strange, making her imagine that she’d been touching a dragon.

  A dragon. Holy hell.

  She’d always had a fascination with dragons, ever since reading stories about them as a young girl. They’d seemed magical and majestic. That had to be why she’d dreamed about a dragon taking care of her, his eyes flashing red while smoke seeped out of his mouth.

  You, girl, lost it for a while.

  But then why hadn’t she been attacked by the shark? The predator must’ve suddenly darted away to go after better prey. What other reason could it have been?

  She carried her shoes in one hand and, keeping her gaze on the sand, started walking. If she got lucky, she might run into an inhabited place. She’d hope for an island resort, but at this point, she’d take a villager’s hut. From there, somehow, some way, she’d find a telephone and call the authorities.

  Her hand fingered the small bag still in her pocket. If she had to pay to get back to civilization, was it all right to use one of the jewels? Surely, even a small diamond would be enough to get her back home to Los Angeles. Or maybe to her parents’ home in Bakersfield. Not that she’d be welcomed there—again—but they wouldn’t turn her away.

  “Damn, moving back home again. That’s going to suck.”

  She hadn’t even taken a look at the jewels. What if she was wrong and they were worthless? What if the seller had been swindling the buyer and all the jewels were fakes? What would she do then?

  Tugging the bag out of her pocket, she sat down on the sand and opened the bag. Afraid of pouring them into her hand and dropping them, she slid a few of the jewels into her shoe.

  Holy crap.

  Emeralds as green as the moss on a tree glistened under the new day sun. Rubies, blood red, glowed with a mesmerizing richness. Diamonds of various sizes sparkled, casting bright flashes as the sun’s rays struck their edges.

  “They sure as hell don’t look fake.” She carefully picked up the diamond and held it up for study. If she had glass, she could’ve tried cutting it with the stone. As it was, she’d have to go with her gut. The jewels were the real deal.

  I’m rich.

  As soon as she’d had the thought, she knew it was wrong. No doubt the jewels were stolen, which meant that someone or some company owned them. If she kept them, she’d be just as guilty of thievery as those slugs on the ship were.

  “Ooh, you’re so pretty.” She closed one eye and peered through the diamond. Refracted light made it even prettier. “Really—”

  She stalled, seeing dark forms moving toward her. Hurriedly, she scooped up the jewels and slid them back into the bag. Squinting, she could make out the men striding her way. She scrambled to her feet, shifted back and forth, but then just stood there.

  Should she wave? Should she run away? What if they were the men from the cruise ship? With the sun behind them, they were shadowed, their faces obscured. Indecision plagued her.

  One man waved. “Hey, there! Are you all right?”

  He wasn’t one of the jewelry thieves. Relief flooded her. Civilization and rescue were closer than she’d thought they would be.

  The closer they came, the more certain she was that none of them were the thieves. She lifted her hand and returned his wave. Had they seen what she was doing? The idea was silly. They hadn’t been close enough to see the jewels.

  Damn, but they’re hot.

  Their looks shouldn’t matter, but she couldn’t help thinking about how hot they were. They were all much taller than her five-foot-six-inch height and as broad as any man she’d ever seen. As though they were out for a leisurely stroll, they were all dressed in jeans, two sand-washed blue and one black, with casual white shirts rolled up their strong forearms. Their strides were confident even in the sand, and each was barefoot. Two of them had black hair making them matching bookends for the blond walking between them. She couldn’t wait to see what color their eyes were.

  “Hi.” The tallest of the three by only an inch or so came to a stop a couple of yards from her.

  She looked into the strange silver eyes and was entranced. “Hi.” Yeah, as though they were all out for a stroll and would go back to their Carmel beach house after exchanging pleasantries.

  “Are you all right?” asked the blond one again. His eyes were a perfect match for the emeralds in the bag.

  “I think so.” Was she? Nothing was broken, but her body hurt from bruises she’d sustained from falling off the ship. She hated to think what she must look like and brought a hand to her tangled hair.

  “Where’d you come from? How’d you get here?” The second man with dark hair had the same amazing eyes as the other one. “This is a private island.”

  Shit. Not only was she stranded she was trespassing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I mean I didn’t come here on purpose.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” The first man moved closer and offered his hand. “I’m Branson D’Angelo, and this is my cousin, Anthony.”

  “And I’m their friend and business partner, Montana Welton.”

  Only Branson offered his hand, but she figured he was doing it for the other two. She wiped her palm on her dirty slacks then took his hand. His grip was firm, but not too firm, his hand enclosing hers. A feeling of energy zapped her, and far from wanting to pull her hand from his, she wanted to never let go. Simply the act of holding his hand made her feel safe, protected against everything, including jewel thieves.

  “And your name is…?” His dark gaze held hers while momentarily stopping her breath.

  She fumbled, trying to jerk her mind back into awareness. “Oh, um, I’m Arielle Hopper.”

  “Arielle.” He grinned, dimples flaring to life. “Like The Little Mermaid?”

  She’d heard the same thing many times and hated the comparison. Yet she didn’t mind it coming from him. “Yep. And Hopper as in a bunny rabbit.”

  The twinkle in his eye showed he’d caught her sarcasm and enjoyed it. “You look like you could use a good shower.”

  “Fuck, man, you don’t tell a beautiful woman she looks like shit.” Montana moved Branson aside and took her hand from his. “Excuse him. Sometimes he reacts before he thinks.”

  She didn’t mind. As long as he used the term beautiful in the same sentence, he could say just about anything. She had no doubt that she looked horrible. Not to mention stinking. And to high heaven, too. “It’s okay. I can’t deny the truth.”

  “Long night, huh?” asked Anthony. His demeanor seemed more controlled than the other two, as though he was the one who kept them going.

  “You could say so.” How did she tell them what had happened? Would they believe her? Would she believe them if the situations were reversed?

  “Want to tell us what’s going on?”

  She skimmed her hand along her clothes, letting it slide over her pocket. How much could she tell them? “I know this will be difficult to believe, but I fell off a cruise ship.”

  “You fell?”

  She studied Anthony. For a second, she thought he was going to ask if she’d been pushed. But why would he think that?

  Shrugging, she tried to make it sound more believable. “Yeah, I know how it sounds, but I’m a real
ly clumsy person.”

  “And no one tried to save you?” asked Branson.

  I wonder what the stubble on his jaw feels like.

  Instead, she forced her mind back on the conversation. How could she think in terms of hotness after what she’d gone through? She didn’t want to lie, but she couldn’t tell them the truth, either. “I don’t think anyone saw me.”

  “Won’t there be someone on board who will figure out that you’re missing?”

  “I don’t know. My supervisor might.” They had to know that she wasn’t a guest from her clothing. Even after everything she’d gone through, her name badge was still pinned to her shirt.

  “You didn’t swim to shore.” Montana’s attention flicked to the badge. “Arielle.”

  Was he asking a question? It sounded as though he already knew the answer. “No. I held on to a life preserver.” What could she say happened after that? “I guess I drifted to shore. I was pretty out of it, so I’m not really sure.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t wind up shark food.”

  She frowned. Why would Branson say such a thing? It was almost as though he knew how close she’d come to being a shark’s dinner. “I almost did. But then, all of a sudden…” She stalled. I was whisked into the air by a dragon? She could hardly say that. “He just left me alone.”

  “You were very lucky.” Anthony crossed his arms, making the muscles strain against his shirt. “When did this happen?”

  She ached to ask him to show her his guns. “Last night during the storm. It was raining hard, storming, and the deck was very slippery.”

  Strangely, he didn’t seem surprised. “I’m sure someone will be missing you by now.”

  “Maybe. Like I said, my supervisor might notice when I don’t show up for work.”

  Or would they? She’d been filling in for so many different people that maybe, just maybe, they’d all think she was working for someone else. Her roommate, another waitress named Bridget, had a habit of sleeping with good-looking male passengers. She might not even notice that Arielle’s bed hadn’t been slept in when she came back to the cabin to clean up and get a change of clothes. It could be a day or more before she was missed.

  “Well, until someone realizes that you’re missing, you’ll stay with us.”

  Montana’s offer took her by surprise. “Oh. Um, sure. I mean that would be great. Until I can get in contact with them. If you don’t mind, I need to make a phone call or two. I didn’t have my phone on me when I fell over. Not that it wouldn’t have gotten ruined in the ocean anyway.”

  “Unfortunately for you, we don’t have any phones on the island.”

  She stared at Anthony as though he were speaking a foreign language. “I’m sorry?” Who didn’t have a phone? “How about the Internet?”

  Branson took hold of her hand. Once again, she felt comforted, yet more. More as in wanting more than to just hold his hand.

  “This is our private island. It’s our refuge where we like to get away from the rest of the world. We don’t need or want any form of communication.”

  “What do you do if there’s an emergency?” Like a girl winding up on your beach after falling off a ship?

  “We’ve never had any emergencies we can’t handle.” Montana shrugged. “At least not yet.”

  “But I have to let someone know I’m here. Otherwise, they’ll assume I fell off and drowned.” It was rare, but people, especially clumsy ones like her, were sometimes lost at sea. “Do you have a boat? Or a plane?” If they were rich enough to live on an island, surely they owned their own yacht or jet.

  “No to both of those.”

  “Then how’d you get here?” She couldn’t help but dig a little. “Don’t tell me all of you fell off a cruise ship, too.” She resisted adding and were carried here by a dragon. They wouldn’t believe her. Hell, she wasn’t sure she believed herself.

  “We charter a plane or a boat when we come here,” answered Anthony.

  “But if you have no phone or Internet, how do you contact the charter company?”

  “We have our ways,” answered Montana.

  Mysterious much?

  “How about we talk about that after you get cleaned up?” Branson kept hold of her hand and tugged her along with him. “I’ll bet you’d love to get into a hot shower right now. Am I right?”

  “Yes. You are very right.”

  “And I bet you wouldn’t turn down a hot meal,” said Montana.

  She hadn’t noticed how hungry she was until he’d mentioned eating. “I have to admit I’m starving, so I’d love some food. If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “To feed a little thing like you? Nah, no trouble at all.” Anthony fell into step beside the rest of them. “I’ll bet you wouldn’t mind crawling into a warm bed, either. With Egyptian sheets.”

  Little thing like her? She couldn’t help but sigh both at his comment and at the prospect of sliding between clean sheets. “That sounds amazing.”

  Her gaze darted from one gorgeous man to the next. An image of all three men in bed with her hit her so hard she stumbled.

  The only thing better would be to slip into that bed with them.

  Branson and Montana grabbed her and kept her on her feet. “Easy,” urged Montana.

  “Thanks. I’m not exactly a graceful person.” She smiled and set her attention on the sand in front of her.

  “You don’t seem clumsy to me,” said Branson.

  His grin was breathtaking, making her want to smile back. “Oh, sure, I’m as graceful as a gazelle as long as you’re holding on to me.” His laughter was as strong and firm as his body.

  Having one of them hold her hand had set off skyrockets of lust to spiral through her. Having two of them had doubled that sensation. If Anthony added his touch to her, she might not be able to stand up at all, even with their help.

  The feelings were unnerving in more than one way. Not only were they incredibly sexy emotions that tugged at her pussy and made her weak in the knees, they were unusual for her. She’d never been the type of girl who would fall all over herself if a handsome man looked her way. Never promiscuous or slutty, she’d always been the best friend of the hot girl all the guys wanted. Years of being in that position had taught her that sexy men were for others and not for her. If a man like that paid any attention to her at all, it was usually to get her to introduce them to her beautiful friends.

  Not that she was ugly or anything. She’d been called cute and even pretty. Yet Montana had called her beautiful. Not directly, maybe, but he’d been referring to her. Still, she couldn’t let herself get carried away. They were being kind, helping out a stranded woman. She shouldn’t read any more into it.

  “Where are you from, Arielle?” asked Anthony, obviously making small conversation.

  “I’m originally from the Midwest, but my folks and I moved to L.A. when I was a teenager.”

  “L.A., huh? So do you like it there?” Montana intensified his hold on her.

  “It’s okay. Kind of hard to get a job that’ll pay all the bills, but I get by. But it’s a lot better than living in Bakersfield with my folks.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to go back to living in their furnished basement and following their orders. When was life going to give her a break?

  Unless it already has.

  “Are you really an actress working as a waitress?”

  She could tell by the twinkle in Branson’s eyes that he was teasing her. “Nope. I’m a real live waitress with no plans for stardom.”

  “Got any brothers or sisters?” asked Montana, putting a twist on the conversation.

  She glanced at him, and judging from his polite expression, he really didn’t care how many siblings she had. “Nope. It’s just me.”

  “I guess your parents figured they’d gotten the best the first time, so why try again?”

  Branson definitely had a way of making her feel better. “I think it was more a matter of not affording another kid. I don’t mind, though. Growing
up as an only child has its advantages.”

  “So you don’t like to share, huh?”

  The warmth from Montana’s body was growing, steaming onto her skin. She glanced down, half expecting to see smoke rising between them. “Not usually. I guess that makes me seem greedy or selfish.”

  “No, but some things are better when shared.”

  The gleam in his eyes was so tempting, drawing her into them. “Like what?”

  “Lots of things. Like ice cream.”

  She laughed. “Not me. I like my ice cream all to myself.”

  “How about sharing a pizza?” asked Branson.

  “When I can eat the whole thing by myself? No, no. I’m too much of a glutton to share anything that good.” She laughed, hopefully throwing them off. No way did she want them to know that she’d actually eaten an entire pizza by herself. And not just once, either, but several times.

  “I’m starting to see what you mean about being greedy,” joked Branson.

  “Okay, then how about sharing a taxi ride?” asked Anthony.

  He had her there. “Anytime I can split the cost, I’ll share. Like taxi rides, rent, electric bills, and the rest.”

  Montana wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Have you ever shared a lover?”

  She almost stumbled again, her hair falling to cover her face as she fell forward. Thankfully, they kept her upright. Also thankfully, the blush on her face was gone by the time she’d shoved the hair back. “Share a lover? That’s a new one on me.”

  Montana put his mouth near her ear. “You should try it. We three like sharing a hell of a lot.”

  She jerked back to stare at him. “Really?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Yeah. Really. We plan to share one woman for the rest of our lives.” The eyebrow settled back into place. “Once we find the right one.”

  Anthony came to her rescue. “Knock it off. This isn’t the time or the place, man.”

  “It’s always the time and the place for sex.” Montana’s voice had dropped lower. “Or should I say making love?”