Dragon's Flame by Jory Strong Page B

was in the presence of another fantasy-worthy specimen of manhood.
    He had long black hair and blue, bedroom eyes beneath thick, sinful lashes. She was starting to believe that drop-dead gorgeousness was a criteria for being a member of the involved-with-the-supernatural brotherhood.
    Except there had been the small, pinched-lipped censorious guy back at IRE HQ. Still, one out of six…
    The astrologist looked her over with a smoldering, heavy-lidded glance then did the same to Taine, lingering at the front of Taine’s jeans. “I assume it’s urgent since they sent the big gun.”
    Saffron coughed to hide a laugh, torn between being a little turned on and being embarrassed for Taine who was scowling. “It’s urgent.”
    “It always is with you guys.” The astrologist stepped out of the doorway and they entered his vanilla-scented house.
    “I’m Saffron,” she said, some of the fury returning when it became clear that Taine had no intention of introducing her.
    The astrologist’s gaze traveled over her, those bedroom eyes promising a hell of a lot of heat.
    “You don’t need to know his name,” Taine said, a distinct growl in his voice.
    The astrologist’s gaze flicked to Taine’s erection and his lips curved into a sly smile. “Only those I’m intimate with hold my name.”
    It was shades of some erotic fairytale and she was not going there. “That explains everything.”
    He laughed and turned away then led them past a multitude of cactus plants in colorful pots and into a small, windowless room with a floor of patterned ceramic tiles.
    Four wooden chairs surrounded a large round table, though she suspected table wasn’t an accurate description. It was solid stone, intricately carved like a sundial.
    “Don’t touch it,” Taine said, taking the jar from her and handing it to the astrologist.
    They sat, with her next to Taine and the astrologist across from them. Taine recaptured her hand.
    The astrologist uncorked the jar, poured the ashes into a pyramid at the center of the circular slab. After setting the jar on the floor, he pressed his palms to the stone surface.
    She sensed the positioning was exact but couldn’t interpret any of the symbols that he covered, or the ones that—on closer inspection—were placed on either side of narrow grooves that crisscrossed the circle like a grid.
    Or maybe a map? In the traditional sense, astrology dealt with the position of the planets and their influence on humans, but given the existence of other realms…
    Saffron leaned forward for a better look, careful not to touch the slab. The astrologist glanced at Taine, lifted dark eyebrows to imply that explanations were at his discretion.
    She blushed. Damnit. The handholding might as well be a shout that she wasn’t an IRE agent.
    What kept happening to her demand that they keep it professional while they were on the job?
    She tried to extricate her hand. Taine refused to release it.
    The astrologist’s gaze heated and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a tendril of smoke.
    Relenting, she stopped tugging at her hand. Beneath the stone table, Taine pressed her palm to his erection.
    Oh she was going to make him pay for that. Except, she had the feeling that he’d enjoy the payback.
    “Shall we proceed?” the astrologist asked.
    “Yes,” Taine said.
    There was definitely a growl of pure possessiveness in his voice despite the warning she’d given him in the car about keeping things casual or they were done.
    The trouble was, that growl made her wet not dry. And the weird fluttering in her chest suggested that she hoped he hadn’t actually listened to her warning.
    That couldn’t be right. She refused to let that be right.
    Love led to death. Or pain that made you wish you were dead.
    Not going there. No way. No how.
    Her brother would still be alive if he hadn’t fallen in love with Shelby. And the anguish she’d experienced at losing her father didn’t touch her mother’s