Supernatural Enforcement Bureau, Book 1, The Dragon and The Vampire: Book 1 by A K Michaels Page A
Authors: A K Michaels
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quite some time in the cool water she started to shiver and thought she better get out. Dragons didn’t like the cold. Toweling off quickly, she looked through the items in the box, which she had brought through to her room earlier. There were some items of underwear and some casual clothes, all her size, apart from the bra that lay at the bottom, there was no way it would fit her. She pulled on a pair of panties then jeans, tugging on a sleeveless vest top without a bra.
The small bag that held toiletries also had a brush, which she used to tease out the knots that her restless sleep had given her. She finally untangled her hair and the brush ran through freely. Her long, black, locks cascaded down her back, still wet, clinging in parts to her back. Starr gave it one last brush through then headed out of her bedroom, wanting to triple check the door was still locked, and to see if Ronan had kept his word.
The door was as she had left it, locked and chained, but Ronan wasn’t in the living area or the kitchen. Frowning, Starr used her acute hearing and heard what sounded like a fight. She could clearly hear thuds against something hard and grunts, presumably from Ronan, and whomever he was fighting. Her heart rate shot up and she ran, using her Dragon speed, towards the sounds.
Starr rushed through a doorway and skidded to a stop. Her face flushed with embarrassment at the sight before her. Ronan wasn’t fighting, he was training, using one of those large, hanging, punchbags. He was knocking hell out of the bag, its leather was burst in several places, its stuffing was falling onto the floor. She stared wide eyed as he continued, oblivious to the damage he was doing...and to her presence.
Starr stared, taking in his sweat soaked body, his top half naked so she had a clear view of his muscles working as he punched and punched the bag. She noticed a tribal tattoo on his left upper arm, winding its way up and over his shoulder, the ink rippling as he moved. She wondered what his muscles would feel like under her fingertips, beneath her tongue. A gasp escaped her before she could stop it and that’s when Ronan became aware she was there.
He stopped mid-punch and turned quickly, using his right forearm to wipe the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. Those eyes locked on hers and for a split second she saw them smile, before they changed. The change had her stomach clench, as she saw a cold, detached, look come over his features.
‘What the hell?’ she thought as he turned to continue punching the bag. Her heart lurched, her stomach roiled, as she turned and ran from the room.
She was an idiot! A complete and utter fool! How could she have ever thought he was interested in her? He was like a Greek god and she was, well, she was...lanky, too tall, with slim hips, small breasts...no womanly curves. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in her. Even if she had a passable face, and guys had said she was pretty, her eyes especially attracted comments. Although, quite a few times, it had resulted in a rather nasty argument whenever some guys persisted in insisting she must wear colored contacts.
As she reached the lounge area she stopped, breathing hard, as she made her way to the bar. Starr grabbed the first bottle that came to hand, poured a large measure, then knocked it back in one. This only resulted in a coughing fit as the liquid burned down her throat. After she stopped coughing she managed to get herself under control. So, Ronan, didn’t quite feel the same as she did, so what. She had been on her own for so long it would make no difference to continue. She’d suck it up and get on with her life.
At least here she was safe. She could play cool ‘n calm, of course she could, she told herself half halfheartedly.
Ronan was still in the room he had fitted out as a gym, so she took the time to poke around. She was surprised to see a large bookshelf at the far end of the bar, stocked full of books of every
The small bag that held toiletries also had a brush, which she used to tease out the knots that her restless sleep had given her. She finally untangled her hair and the brush ran through freely. Her long, black, locks cascaded down her back, still wet, clinging in parts to her back. Starr gave it one last brush through then headed out of her bedroom, wanting to triple check the door was still locked, and to see if Ronan had kept his word.
The door was as she had left it, locked and chained, but Ronan wasn’t in the living area or the kitchen. Frowning, Starr used her acute hearing and heard what sounded like a fight. She could clearly hear thuds against something hard and grunts, presumably from Ronan, and whomever he was fighting. Her heart rate shot up and she ran, using her Dragon speed, towards the sounds.
Starr rushed through a doorway and skidded to a stop. Her face flushed with embarrassment at the sight before her. Ronan wasn’t fighting, he was training, using one of those large, hanging, punchbags. He was knocking hell out of the bag, its leather was burst in several places, its stuffing was falling onto the floor. She stared wide eyed as he continued, oblivious to the damage he was doing...and to her presence.
Starr stared, taking in his sweat soaked body, his top half naked so she had a clear view of his muscles working as he punched and punched the bag. She noticed a tribal tattoo on his left upper arm, winding its way up and over his shoulder, the ink rippling as he moved. She wondered what his muscles would feel like under her fingertips, beneath her tongue. A gasp escaped her before she could stop it and that’s when Ronan became aware she was there.
He stopped mid-punch and turned quickly, using his right forearm to wipe the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. Those eyes locked on hers and for a split second she saw them smile, before they changed. The change had her stomach clench, as she saw a cold, detached, look come over his features.
‘What the hell?’ she thought as he turned to continue punching the bag. Her heart lurched, her stomach roiled, as she turned and ran from the room.
She was an idiot! A complete and utter fool! How could she have ever thought he was interested in her? He was like a Greek god and she was, well, she was...lanky, too tall, with slim hips, small breasts...no womanly curves. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in her. Even if she had a passable face, and guys had said she was pretty, her eyes especially attracted comments. Although, quite a few times, it had resulted in a rather nasty argument whenever some guys persisted in insisting she must wear colored contacts.
As she reached the lounge area she stopped, breathing hard, as she made her way to the bar. Starr grabbed the first bottle that came to hand, poured a large measure, then knocked it back in one. This only resulted in a coughing fit as the liquid burned down her throat. After she stopped coughing she managed to get herself under control. So, Ronan, didn’t quite feel the same as she did, so what. She had been on her own for so long it would make no difference to continue. She’d suck it up and get on with her life.
At least here she was safe. She could play cool ‘n calm, of course she could, she told herself half halfheartedly.
Ronan was still in the room he had fitted out as a gym, so she took the time to poke around. She was surprised to see a large bookshelf at the far end of the bar, stocked full of books of every
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