Free I Dream of Dragons (Boston Dragons) by Ashlyn Chase Page A

“Arrogant Irish prick,” she muttered.
    “Oh! That’s hardly ladylike language, me darlin’.”
    “I never said I was a lady.”
    He grinned and spread his arms across the back of the futon. “Is that so?”
    She blushed and quickly added, “I don’t usually talk like that, but you deserved it.”
    He laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll try to be less—what was it you said? Ah, disgustin ’ , I believe.”
    “Good. And while you’re at it, maybe you could try to be less arrogant too.”
    He crossed his long legs at the ankles. “That’s unlikely. Where I come from, a little arrogance is a positive trait. We call it self-confidence.”
    “Oh, is that what it is? I thought it was over confidence, conceit, and false pride.”
    His big hand pressed his broad chest. “You wound me, luv.”
    “I’m not your love or your darling. Let’s get that straight right now.” She crossed her arms and tried to look tough. The smattering of freckles across her turned-up nose made that a difficult task, and she knew it.
    So did he, apparently. He just continued to grin at her, his green eyes twinkling mischievously.
    “Why don’t you come and sit next to me? We should get to know each other if we’re to be livin’ together.” He patted an empty spot on the futon. He hadn’t left much room on either side, and she suspected that was on purpose.
    She made a noise of repulsion and stared to her left. With no retort coming to mind, she shuffled into the bathroom and locked the door. She had to get some of those muse powers—and soon. Sure, she could have groceries delivered, but she’d prefer to pick the freshest items herself. She was used to being trapped in small spaces, but off the clock, she loved the feeling of being in an open space all her own.
    She could barely breathe in Rory’s presence, but the enclosed space wasn’t entirely responsible. The handsome, infuriating Irishman filled the room with his presence and took her breath away.
    Then Amber remembered something. When she met Brandee’s husband, he’d introduced himself by first and last name. Maybe he’s in the phone book. But she’d left her phone in her purse in the bedroom.
    Panic seized her. Rory wouldn’t invade my privacy by going into my purse, would he?
    She tore out of the bathroom and was relieved to see he was still on the futon. Whew. As soon as she grabbed her purse off a hook in the bedroom closet, she glanced through the contents. Everything seemed to be there.
    Now, how would she explain needing her purse in the bathroom? Aha! Two can play the gross-out game.
    Chuckling, she slung the purse over her shoulder and returned to the bathroom. “I needed something important . Something I use on a monthly basis .”
    He laughed. “You didn’t even have to hint at it, me darlin’. I have sisters. You may think that’ll put me off, but it won’t a bit. Now, go take care of the responsibility Mother Nature gave you.”
    Hmmm…Mother Nature. Interesting that he referred to her, specifically. Amber hoped the deity wasn’t too hard to reach. If she didn’t take this job… Her posture sagged. Nothing was going to discourage this stubborn Irishman.
    “Why do you want this place so badly?” she asked.
    “Because it feels like the right fit for me and me family. What’s your reason?”
    She didn’t answer him—just humphed and shut the door.
    Why did she want it so badly? Sure, she’d always wanted to live in the beautiful, historic Back Bay area. She’d grown up in the suburbs, but they were meant for families. This area was full of young, urban professionals. Okay, so that could mean a yuppie, but she really didn’t care. Someday she wanted to marry a well-paid guy and transition to being a dink —short for “dual income, no kids.”
    This was the perfect area to meet someone of that caliber—when she was ready to date again. At the moment, she was still smarting over the pilot she’d dated for about a year. They’d