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Chapter One
Walter stumbled out onto the ledge outside his cave/condo in the latest cliffside development. A cloud of purple and green smoke shot through with electric—literally—green sparkles followed him into the chill air. Choking, he tried to avoid the tiny shocks the sparkles nailed him with, ducking and twisting from side to side.
“What the hell, Wizard!” A flaming curse swirled into the cloud, creating a chaotic purple fog nobody could breathe. Not without their lungs exploding. An article inMagic Monthlythe month before warned about just such an occurrence. Wizards and dragons were a bad mix. So his parents had warned in high school when he’d begun the magic courses.
Of course, they’d not been thrilled that he hung out with Conflagration, although they’d never known how close they came to going further than that. They didn’t care if he went for males or females, just not this one! Their families had shared a casual rivalry for centuries. Inter-mating was frowned upon.
Waving his wand, Walter cleared the cloud before he lost consciousness, but just barely. “Go back in your cave, Conflagration, and mind your own business.” Hard to believe they’d ever shared any connection at all. Much less bought next door to one another in the new development. If only he’d known—if the Realtor, who knew them both, had told him at the time, he could have paid half the dollars for a place in the swamp townhomes across town. But no. Nothing but the newest and hippest for him and, unfortunately, for Conflagration. As they’d discovered on moving-in day, after signing the contracts, taking on the mortgages, and learning they’d be living side by side at least until one of them decided to move on. Why the hell didn’t the bastard wear a shirt when he came outside, anyway? It wasn’t exactly toasty in the foggy depths of winter. Who was he showing off for?
And damned if it would be him who moved! He’d spent every extra dime to acquire the three-story cave-wall unit with views of both mountain and sea in the Sideline Cliffside Condos. Let his old enemy move to the swamp. Maybe it would put out some of that fire.
Speaking of which, the other dragon raged on, flickers of flame emerging from his mouth with each word. “I’d love to mind my own business, but whatever the hell you’re doing is interfering with my cataloguing. So…could you cut it out?”
Kissing him could have been a hella mistake, too. Burnt lips would not be much fun. Not that he’d flamed him. And since Walter had stuck with females since then, and tried to avoid Conflagration since “the incident” right before graduation, it was probably just as well.
“Are you done?” he snapped. “I have things to do.” Turning on a heel, he stomped toward his open door.
“More than. Why don’t you move?”
He spun back around. “Why don’t you? If I never see you again, it will be years too soon.” Especially with all that pale, gleaming skin exposed, the deep chest and six-pack abs, toned biceps and forearms he wanted to bite. Conflagration managed to be shirtless all year round, full of energy even in winter when Walter was feeling pasty and less-than-energetic, when his dragon wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of the stone hearth and wait for summer. If not for the string of orders he had to complete every month in order to pay his mortgage, he’d do just that. Maybe he’d been foolish to buy such an expensive property as a wizard still new to the game—most wizards were not considered masters until they practiced for a century or more. “And I hope you’re not going to the reunion!”
Shit, why had he said that?
“I hadn’t planned on it,” the redheaded dragon bit out along with a few more flames, leaning on his balcony railing, tendrils of fog curling around him. “But if you would prefer I stay home, I guess I’ll have to RSVP my attendance. Anything to make your day a little worse, buddy.”
“No…of course I don’t want you to skip it,” he snarled. “In fact, I can’t wait for you to meet my date.” His dragon let out a startled roar at that, which he tried to keep behind lips snapped shut. Damn thing liked honesty, and he no more had a date than a top hat. Which he would also need for the ridiculous fancy-dress ball the committee had decided to hold. “She’s very excited to have the opportunity to wear her tiara.”
The dragon narrowed his blue/gold eyes, but amusement flickered there. “What is she, some kind of duchess?”
“Something like that.” Way to dig deeper and deeper and… “You coming stag?”
A brief hesitation before Conflagration shook his head. “I considered it. Didn’t want to subject my new girl to an evening of boring reminiscences. She prefers more exciting pursuits.”
“Which explains why we’ve never seen her around here.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he snapped it closed again.
“And your lady? Have you been sneaking her in after dark?”
He really should have thought before speaking, yet he rambled on like a fool. Nobody else could make him behave this way. “I visit her at her home. She isn’t fond of the smell of sulfur and brimstone. It tends to cling to fine fabrics.”
“Right. Because you are an immaculate dragon, with your foul spells and flames that smell like primrose.” Conflagration’s tone held all the disgust he probably had coming. “Let me make up for your inconvenience with a priceless ancient document from the hoard…oh, wait. It’s probably too stinky. Odd, none of my clients complain. I’ll have to apologize to the sheik and the countess.”
Showoff.
“Perhaps we should share a table at the reunion, so our dates can talk,” Conflagration went on. “After all, we’ll have the only beauty queens at the event.”
“Hell.” Walter’s mouth went on, too. “Maybe we should share the presidential suite at the hotel. “I can change my reservation. It will be great to hang out together, and we can invite some of the folks up for drinks.” His brain was about to explode. Conflagration would never agree to share the accommodations, for sure, and when he said no, Walter would suggest they back off and stop being ridiculous. And then call the Realtor. Making a point was just too painful, sometimes.
“Sounds good. Want to ride there together?”
Oh dear Goddess. They both needed straitjackets.
“Leaving here Friday at noon,” he heard himself saying. “I’ll drive.”
As he stalked back inside his unit, Walter ran for the phone. He no more had a beautiful date for the weekend than he had a spell to create one. Luckily, he’d recently heard of Gerri Wilder and her Paranormal Dating Agency. The phone rang several times before a voice answered. He’d begun to speak when he realized he heard a recording. Gerri Wilder was either on the other line or out of the office and would call him back as soon as possible.
Conflagration explained his dating needs to a nice older-sounding woman. The famous Gerri Wilder. No one had put more couples together with more success, although he was careful to tell her he was only interested in a date for the reunion. Not that he’d mind having a mate and hatchlings one day, but the immediate need took precedence.
She listened without interrupting and asked him a number of questions about himself and what he liked in a female and, before they hung up, had promised him his date would arrive at his hotel on Friday afternoon by seven, in time for the meet-and-greet event in the hotel bar. She wouldn’t go into details about the female, but did assure he wouldn’t be disappointed.
He sure hoped not.
How humiliating would it be if Walter’s mystery woman outshone his date? They’d been rivals in everything from science to soccer in school, taking turns winning enough even they weren’t sure who had the most wins under his belt. But in his heart, he knew this would be the ultimate competition. And the wizard had a head start. Would he buy that Conflagration and his date had known each other ahead of time? Perhaps he should call Gerri back and ask to meet with the woman a little sooner, to get to know one another?
This time, the call went to voice mail, and he left a message. Then he headed for the back of the condo to the cave carved deep into the stone of the mountain. Friday was casual but Saturday was indeed formal. He had just enough time to get his tux cleaned and his shoes polished. He would have done it sooner, but had been trying to think of a way out of going without looking cowardly.
Now he had to go or never live it down.
