Dragon's Obsession (West Coast Water Dragons Book 5) Read online

  Traffic was a nightmare—by the time she reached her driveway, she was fiercely grateful that she wasn’t going to be spending any more time driving for the next month or so. She’d get a cab to the airport for her flight in the morning, and then Emerson had already offered to come and pick her up from the airport in northern California—apparently, it was a bit of a drive. Good thing she was used to remote locations.

  She took a few minutes to heat up a microwaved meal and wolf it down—not the healthiest option, she knew, but she had a lot of packing to get done and not a lot of spare time. Once her body was fed, she stood with her hands on her hips in her bedroom, surveying her clothing. But before she could get started on that, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket.

  ”Shit!” she hissed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety at the ringing of the phone. She’d completely forgotten about the call she’d agreed to. She hadn’t had a chance to look over her notes, to make a plan of action for the call, to calm her anxiety about it … but before she could stop herself, she’d pulled the phone out of her pocket and hit the Accept button.

  ”Hello?” she squeaked, her voice feeling strained.

  ”Hello? Is that Shelly?”

  He had a beautiful voice, she thought dazedly, thinking back to the photo of the gorgeous man with the tangled blonde hair. Deep, resonant … she liked the sound of her name in that voice. She shook herself, trying to control her racing pulse. This wasn’t helping at all with her phone anxiety. What was the matter with her?

  ”Yes—yes—Emerson, right? Hi! Sorry—you’ve caught me in the middle of packing—”

  ”Did I get the wrong time?”

  ”No! No, you’re perfect, it was me, just got a bit—” She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This was a first impression, and she was blowing it. How unprofessional did it sound to have forgotten what time you agreed to a phone call? “All under control. How are you?”

  ”I’m well, thank you,” he said, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. What was that accent? It was American, but there was something … sophisticated about it. Old-fashioned. Something about the precision of the consonants, a kind of care taken in enunciation that wasn’t so common these days … not for people their age, anyway. “How are you? Prepared for the trip?”

  ”Oh, yes! Suitcase is out. I’m really looking forward to it.” That was—well, not entirely a lie, she thought to herself as she paced back and forth, trying to soothe her nerves with motion.

  ”I’m looking forward to meeting you.” God, why did that make her blush? He was just being polite. “And I’m thrilled that the publication is interested in the Californian Albatross. It really is a curious species—we were so delighted to discover that they weren’t truly extinct after all. In an age where you hear story after story about the species we’re losing, it’s nice to get a win once in a while.”

  ”You’re so right,” Shelly smiled. “It’s hard to write about nature and wildlife these days when so much of the story is about the devastation of climate change. The last story I wrote was a hopeful one, though. I followed this family of bears—”

  ”Oh, how interesting.” Was she imagining it, or was there an odd sense of reservation in his voice? “I can’t say I know much about bears.”

  ”Oh, you don’t have any grizzlies down that way?” she joked. But there was only grave silence from the other end of the phone. “Kidding,” she clarified, feeling like an idiot.

  ”Oh. Sorry. Hard to tell, on the phone—”

  ”I hate phones,” she said quickly, then bit her lip. Try, for once in your life, to be a professional, Shell. I’m literally begging you, she told herself. “I mean—it’s much easier to communicate in person.”

  ”Well, we’ll have plenty of time to do that,” Emerson said cheerfully. “I trust you’re comfortable with camping? I have several tents and all the supplies we’ll need—camp stoves, a good supply of food for the trail, and so on. Don’t feel obliged to bring anything more than clothing.”

  ”That’s very kind,” she said, making a mental note to take her camp stove out of her pack. It’d be nice not to have to lug the thing around.

  ”We’ll be spending a lot of time close to the shore, and the sea can be unpredictable—I’d recommend plenty of wet weather gear as well as sun protection.”

  ”Got it,” she said, scrabbling for a pen to start drafting a to-pack list.

  ”Have you had a chance to look at the notes I sent through about the albatross? I know they were a little rudimentary. I’m sure you have much more professional insight into the birds, but—”

  ”Not really,” she admitted. “This will be a learning experience for me. I don’t really know much about birds generally. I always thought they were a little boring.” There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, and Shelly resisted the urge to bury her head in her blankets and never come out again. “Not that—not that they’re not—I mean, my specialty is mammals. You have to admit; bears are a little more exciting than birds …”

  Keep digging, Shelly, she thought dully as she heard Emerson clear his throat on the other end of the phone. Thank god for the man’s diplomacy. They talked a little longer, exchanging details and getting ready for her arrival … but she could tell he wasn’t impressed with her attitude to birds. What the hell had possessed her to say that? Why was she so terrible on the phone? She could talk to people in real life just fine, but the minute a phone line was involved she lost her whole damn mind. It was shocking. She only hoped she could make up for it somehow when she met Emerson … maybe she’d apologize, she thought. Maybe she’d bring him some chocolates from the airport or something to apologize for calling something that he was clearly passionate about boring …

  They wrapped up the call not long after, and Emerson wished her a safe and pleasant journey with a touching formality before he hung up the phone. She dropped her phone and allowed herself a long groan of dismay, burying her head in her hands for a minute before rallying. It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d embarrassed herself on the phone before—it didn’t mean her career and her life were over. And at least he sounded nice, right? She’d been worried about being stuck with someone boring and stuffy. He was a little odd, sure—a little quaint, maybe, a little old-fashioned—but he was nice to talk to. God, his voice alone was so lovely … deep and resonant, it had sent shivers up her spine when she’d heard it. Too bad, he was so into birds …

  She shook herself a little as she set about packing. It was just that she’d seen his photo, that was all. He was an undeniably attractive man, so of course, she was making an absolute fool of herself. Not that she had ever needed any help to make an absolute fool of herself in front of other people … she’d been doing that ever since she’d learned how to talk. She just hadn’t inherited the Socially Adept gene, it seemed. Her mother had been amazing at it … she was always throwing dinner parties and little casual get-togethers, talking and laughing with her friends, the picture of grace and poise … and then her awkward daughter would come shuffling downstairs for a glass of water, face burning with embarrassment when anyone tried to talk to her. Why hadn’t she just learned how to socialize?

  She’d always been so much more comfortable around animals. That was what she’d do when her mother threw parties … hide upstairs with her books and her computer and her old cat, who’d curl himself up in her lap and fall asleep. There was something so refreshingly straightforward about animals. Either they were happy or they weren’t. If they were hungry, they’d let you know about it. If they were annoyed with you, they’d show you. And if they loved you, they’d sleep in your lap. Simple.

  Humans, on the other hand … god, humans were a nightmare. She’d tried her best, of course. As a younger woman, she’d read a few romance novels at an impressionable age and gotten her heart set on that life. She’d tried her best … she’d gone on dates, combed her hair and worn uncomfortable shoes and tight-fitting dresses, tried and failed to impre
ss the men she was meeting. It had taken forty dates—she’d counted—before she’d met a guy who wanted to see her again. Benjamin, his name had been. He’d been sweet, and shy, and introverted … they hadn’t needed much from each other, that had been the secret to their relationship’s success.

  For a few years, anyway. Eventually, her work had pulled her away from him too many times, and they’d had to have a serious conversation. They’d been in their late twenties then—a kind of crunch time in the relationship. Benjamin had a good, steady job as an accountant. He wanted the whole American dream—to get married, buy a big old house together, and fill it with pets and children and memories. And she’d been tempted. God, had she been tempted. She’d wrestled with the prospect for days on end, barely sleeping, weighing the possibilities. A safe, comfortable, happy life with a man she truly did like, respect and admire … but she knew, in her heart of hearts, that if she chose that life, she could say goodbye to her career. With a husband and a family, she couldn’t travel as freely as a single woman. And in a competitive field like the one she was in, that could prove to be fatal to her career.

  ”Plenty of people make it work,” he’d told her that final night, his eyes full of tears. “You can have a career and a family … there are thousands of women who do it.”

  ”Not in my field, though,” she’d said. She’d felt like a monster. Some nights, she still did, thinking back to that night that they’d parted ways. What would her life look like now, if she’d stayed with Benjamin? It would be beautiful, in a way, she thought wistfully. But she knew that if she’d chosen that, she’d have spent her whole life wondering what would have happened if she’d followed her own path.

  And she’d never have had an experience like the one she’d had a few weeks ago—the experience of waking up to find a family of bears playing in the clearing outside her tent.

  No—she’d chosen her work, and it had been the right choice. She knew that, deep down. It was an unforgiving life—hard on her body and mind, exhausting, thankless, and low-paying. But god, she loved it more than anything. And if choosing her work meant that she’d never have a partner to share her life with, never have that suburban dream … well, it was a wrench, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She’d always been the kind of woman who could be strong in her choices. Maybe that was her anxious disposition talking, but she thought through her decisions, and then she trusted them. It was as simple as that.

  That was why she was finding this whole trip so irritating, she thought as she packed her suitcase with wet-weather gear and broad-brimmed hats for the unpredictable weather. She hadn’t been given enough time to think about it, to work through whether it was a good idea. It hadn’t been her choice to head out to California to photograph an albatross. She’d make the best of it regardless—she always did—but still, it was grating to be told where to go and what to do. Even if it meant she got to spend a month with a devastatingly handsome albatross expert with a low, sonorous voice that made her whole body go tingly …

  She shook herself, resisting the urge to laugh at how silly those feelings were. Was she really getting a crush on this guy? The birdwatcher? How inconvenient. Well, at least she knew that it wasn’t going to make her embarrass herself any more than usual … she knew from experience that even people she had no interest in at all weren’t safe from her social awkwardness. Hopefully, they could both be professional enough to just get through it.

  ”It’s only a month,” she told herself firmly as she tucked her spare insect repellent into the pocket of her suitcase. “You can get through a month.” Still, her eyes lingered on her wardrobe, where her more professional clothing had been safely packed away. She didn’t have many nice clothes—the majority of her wardrobe was aggressively practical, designed to get her through the wilderness in search of wild animals. But she had a few nice pieces, for events and the like … and for some reason, she wanted to take a few of them with her. That old instinct resurfacing—wanting to impress this guy, wanting him to think she was pretty. She scowled at that, thinking back to all the terrible dates she’d been on in her early twenties. Why should she force herself into uncomfortable clothing for some man’s approval?

  Still … she hesitated a little. She couldn’t exactly wear outdoor gear on the flight, could she? Maybe she could wear something a little nice on the plane … just to make a good first impression on Emerson when he picked her up from the airport. Something that said she was a professional journalist who knew how to conduct herself, knew how to dress well … to show him that she could look nice before they spent a month in baggy adventuring gear. Usually, she’d dress for comfort on a plane … but this time, she scooped a dress out of her wardrobe, a long green dress that she knew set off her green eyes beautifully. Was it a little formal for an airplane? No … no, she’d wear sandals with it. It was almost summer … she’d just say she was dressing for the heat.

  Feeling ridiculous—and very grateful that Janet wasn’t there to tease her—she hung the dress on the back of the door, ready to get changed into it in the morning. Her suitcase was packed, her handbag was full of her flight details, and her heavy-duty laptop was charged and ready for adventure. Her prized possession, that laptop. Waterproof, with a long-lasting battery, it had been well worth the cost and had come with her on dozens of trips, storing her photos and notes. She had a couple of power banks charged and ready, too—more than enough charge to get her through a month of venturing.

  ”This is going to be fine,” she told herself in the mirror on her way to the door with her suitcase. “You’re going to be fine.” This was what she did—this was her job, her profession, her whole reason for being alive. Sure, albatrosses were a little more boring than her preferred work. And sure, the guy she was working with was going to make her nervous. But she was Shelly Harris, damnit. She’d fought hard for this job, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her from doing her best.

  She took a long shower then tucked herself up in bed, ready for the bright and early morning trip to the airport. And if she had a few unusual dreams about deep-voiced men with sparkling blue eyes and flowing manes of golden hair, well … what was the harm?

  Chapter 4 - Emerson

  Emerson woke a lot earlier than he was accustomed to the next morning, after a night of sleep that was oddly restless. Usually, his before-bed ritual of meditation served to calm his mind enough to allow a deep and restful sleep. But this time, somehow, something kept distracting him. Could it have been the call with Shelly? It had certainly been a little chaotic. He could hear the sound of her pacing around her apartment, and there was something about her voice that suggested she didn’t want to be on the phone to him. That, paired with what she’d said about finding birdwatching boring, made him worry a little. Was he about to spend a month with a woman who didn’t want to be spending that time with him?

  No, he told himself firmly. She was a professional. All he had to worry about was getting her to where the albatrosses were nesting. He’d spent the evening drawing up maps of the shoreline, getting ready to try a few likely spots each day. The problem with this particular species of albatross was that they preferred high, rocky, remote places for their nests … places difficult for predators to reach. That meant difficult for humans to reach, of course. In his dragon form, Emerson knew he could check all of the potential sites in a matter of hours. But of course, Shelly didn’t have that luxury, did she? He could tell from her voice that she was human, not any kind of shifter. So flying was well and truly out.

  Just one more person to keep his species secret from, he thought with a pang of loneliness.

  Before he’d gone to bed, he had spent a little time on the website of the publication Shelly worked for. It didn’t take long to find some of her work, and he scrolled through more of it than he’d intended, fascinated by her writing—and what was more, by the quality of the images that accompanied the writing. He was struck by the clarity and the passion of her language, the simplic
ity of the storytelling—and the boldness of it, too. She was unrelenting in her calls for the natural environment to be preserved … but at the same time, so clearly full of joy and wonder at the miracles that surrounded them in the natural world. It was an incredibly charming writing style, and before he knew it, he’d stayed up longer than he’d intended, just reading.

  He’d resisted the urge to look at her photo again, though. Something about it felt … strange. He’d meet her in person soon enough, what did he need to be looking at her picture for? Perhaps he’d even see that smile in person … that brilliant, beaming, light-filled smile … It was the late night, he decided as he roused himself from sleep at the sound of birdsong outside. That was what had stopped him sleeping. That, and only that.

  Her flight was due to come in at midday, so he had plenty of time to shower and dress for the day. He found himself choosing his clothes with a little more care than he usually did—a dark blue shirt that he knew set off the color of his eyes, and a pair of dark gray jeans that handily hid the collection of stains they’d gathered from his expeditions into the wilderness of the peninsula. He considered the shoe question for longer than he usually would, finally opting for a new-ish pair of mountain-climbing boots that he’d found was very good on the rockier coastlines of the peninsula. If this Shelly was as energetic as her photo seemed to suggest, he wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to get a head start on exploring as soon as they reached the peninsula.