Here Be Dragons (Possessive Monsters #7)

Chapter 1

Carly

My heels clacked on the marble tile floor as I hurried through the foyer of Darlington Museum, my lunch bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. Shit. This was only my second week on the job, and if I didn’t get my butt in there and clock in right the hell now, I was going to be late.

It was all the Midnight Dryer Thief’s fault. I’d only noticed the poster on my new apartment building’s shared laundry facility door warning residents not to leave clothes unattended after I returned to find my only set of work-appropriate attire missing from the dryer. Apparently, someone had been stealing clothing in the middle of the night. They hadn’t caught the thief yet, but the thief sure caught me.

That was the only reason I was wearing the world’s tightest black pencil skirt and a black button-up top—which I was practically busting out of—underneath my uniform vest. Both were about two sizes too small but I’d kept them, hoping one day I’d fit into them again. But I never thought I’d be wearing them to work.

The vest, the only piece of uniform I had as Darlington Museum’s newest hire, was emblazoned with a stylized dragon on the back and a name tag on the front that announced “Hi! My name is Carly, and I’m a history nerd!” It was currently the only thing on my body that actually fit. Everything else was scandalously tight.

The vest’s deep v-neck did nothing to hide the fact that I was basically spilling out of everything underneath. But alas, these were the only other black clothing pieces I owned. I’d really hoped that my lone pair of black slacks and button-up top that actually fit would last me until my first payday.

Alas, yesterday’s fateful fight with a can of tomato sauce, followed by the catastrophic trip down to the laundry room and the resulting larceny, had ruined that idea.

“Morning.” Leonard the janitor, who was giving the brass handles to the museum’s front doors one last polish before the day’s guests started to arrive, tipped his head at me, his eyes clearly on my way-too-generous figure.

Great! So people did notice. Sigh.

“Morning.” I tried to appear nonchalant.

I didn’t know what was worse, having people think I was purposefully dressing super sexy on a day I was supposed to be leading a tour of high schoolers through the museum, or admitting I was too dirt poor to own more than one set of work-appropriate black clothes, plus I was a total klutz who couldn’t be trusted to open a can unsupervised. Neither option was appealing.

The goal had been to hide my klutziness at least until my three-month probation was up. So much for that. Stupid pasta sauce.

I was rounding the corner on my way to the staff room when I came face to face with a massive chest clad in a silky white shirt. I skidded to a halt, or at least tried to in my uncomfortable and also slightly too-tight heels—aka, the only pair of footwear I owned that weren’t snow boots or running shoes.

To my horror, my tumbler of homemade instant coffee flew out of my hand, arcing in slow motion toward a perfectly pressed pair of trousers. It bounced off a well-muscled thigh, the lid dislodging as the liquid spilled out, splashing everywhere.

As if having an out-of-body experience, I watched myself continue to stumble forward directly into a set of silk-covered pecs.

“Oof!” The masculine grunt masked the scream I was trying to stifle.

I found myself plastered boob-first against a brawny chest. Thick arms wrapped around me, steadying me and setting me onto my feet. I looked up into light brown eyes that looked almost amber, framed by inky black lashes. His dark hair was parted on the side, a few pieces falling forward, giving him a proper but not too straight-laced look.

He had the most chiseled jawline I had ever seen. Damn, those puppies were sharp enough to cut diamonds! He was tall too, with wide shoulders. He looked like he’d stepped right out of a G.Q. photoshoot.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” I reached into my bag for the handful of napkins I’d shoved into the front pocket the last time I grabbed fast food. “Let me get that for you.”

I started to dab at the stain on his pants. It took me encountering some, uh, equipment, to realize, far too belatedly, that it wasn’t his thigh under my hands.

I was essentially feeling up the guy’s crotch.

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I froze, mortified, before snatching my hands away just as an angry snarl vibrated the very air around us.

Oh shit!

The stranger was pissed, and rightly so. He was also clearly not quite human, judging by the sound he’d just made. Not surprising, considering I was in Darlington, a city known for its high population density of magical denizens. It was very likely that the delicious specimen of man meat I’d just accidentally accosted was in fact a monster.

I don’t mean a monster in a bad way. Monster was the word the non-human folks on Earth preferred to call themselves. The entire world found out about them, along with the whole existence of magic, when The Wall, a powerful spell that had hidden them and their world in plain sight for ages, suddenly failed a few years ago.

That had been an interesting year. It was also the year the world learned of Darlington, U.S. of A., a magic-filled gem of a town that had somehow avoided detection even with all the satellites circling the planet. The town had since exploded into a city, which was why I was here. I’d answered a job posting for a position at the Darlington Museum.

“I’m sorry,” I babbled again like a total idiot before offering him the napkins so he could do it himself.

He was glowering as he took the napkins from me. I shrank back at the sight. He was menacing when he was pissed.

The museum wasn’t open yet, so he must work here. But judging by the way he was dressed, and the fact that he didn’t have a hyper-enthusiastic name tag, he must be someone important.

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, really needed 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 the garbage 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.