Iron (Rent-a-Dragon #2)

She averted her eyes. “He just put a finger here.” She touched her collar bone, and Magnus felt rage rush through him. Just what the hell had Tommy intended? He wanted to chase him down in his car and beat him again.

“Stop it,” she said. “I’m fine. You don’t have to look so angry.”

You’re mine, he wanted to say. I don’t want anyone to touch you. He was agitated, his dragon pacing, aware of the threat to his mate. But right now, she just needed peace and calm.

That’s what he wanted to give her.

“We should head out,” he said. “Let Mike close up the shop.”

She nodded, and he was glad she didn’t fight him.

“I’ll want some additional security installed here in case anyone comes snooping,” Magnus said, focusing on the things they could fix right now. “I’ve been looking into companies just in case, and I can give them a call and hopefully have them take care of it before day’s end.”

Her expression was strained as she looked up at him. “You know I can’t afford that, Magnus.”

“I can’t afford for you not to be safe. For the things you care about not to be safe. Please, let me do this for you.”

She looked like she wanted to resist, but she nodded. “But how can you afford to do it? You’re a handyman.”

He winked at her with a grin. “I’m a dragon. I’m rich of course.”

“Oh, of course,” she said dubiously. “I forgot.” She put her hands up in surrender and walked out of the office in front of him. Then she stopped, looking over her shoulder with a softness in her gray-blue eyes. “And thanks. For stepping in when you did.”

“Of course,” he said. “Always.”

She stared at him for a moment, and he had to resist the temptation to read her thoughts. “All right, dragon, let’s go home.”

He practically skipped after her and out of the office. Home sounded perfect to him.



Magnus could have faced a hundred angry villagers and been less nervous than he was right now, cooking for Lindy with a sinking suspicion his dish wasn’t going to turn out.

It wasn’t Titus’s fault, who was giving him directions in his mind, or Citrine, who kept cutting in with tips about winning over a human.

It was the combination of everything, plus the scent of his mate in the next room, constantly distracting him.

It had been hard to stay separate from her, to be only friends, when all he wanted was to put his hands on her and show her exactly what she meant to him.

But she also meant enough for him to hold back.

He poured the water off of the noodles he’d been boiling, wondering if they were squishy enough.

Did you hear me, Magnus? Titus asked. I was just saying that Citrine says it’s important to show her your quiet side.

Magnus snorted. You’ve known me since childhood. Since when have I ever had a quiet side?

There was a pause, presumably as Titus spoke to Citrine. Citrine could speak to dragon thoughts when they were nearby, but only the metal dragons could communicate over long distances with their crews.

He says he means the side of you that someone might want to spend a quiet afternoon with, not just the Magnus who fixes everything and is fiercely protective.

Magnus snorted. And what does he know about winning a mate? Citrine is a bachelor.

Citrine says he’s offended, and you should know he played a role in several of the gem dragons finding mates.

Well, that just means they need help and I don’t, yet another reason metal dragons are superior to gem dragons. He grinned, imagining Citrine’s irritation.

Citrine would like to remind you that you are not successfully mated either and also that you’re an asshole.

Magnus laughed out loud and then covered his mouth, hoping Lindy didn’t hear. She would think he was insane, laughing to himself.

Tell Citrine thanks for the vote of confidence.

Citrine says he has zero confidence, and it will take a miracle to get you mated.

Right, Magnus replied. Tell Citrine I’ll give him a big hug when I get home and make it all better.

Citrine says no, but if you bring him some new bulbs for his garden, he’ll think about forgiving your insolence, Titus replied. Okay, I’m done with this interpreter shit. Anything else you need from us?

No, I think I got the noodles ready. And you helped me with the sauce. I should be more or less okay.

No, I meant with the mate situation. You said earlier there was danger?

Can you ask Citrine to look into Roscoe’s auto shop? Magnus replied. Supposedly, they are behind things, and you know he’s a computer wiz and the best one to check into this.

Citrine asks what you’ll give him.

A big hug.

Citrine says he’ll do it just to stop hearing you.

Deal, Magnus replied with a grin, tasting the sauce in the pan in front of him. Seemed good enough. Then again, he was used to whatever Titus threw together when they were at sea. Not that Titus wasn’t a good chef, but with usually only salt and whatever fish they caught, he never had a lot of ingredient options.

He’d gotten more into cooking in the modern world, though.

Thanks again, Titus.

Anytime. Good luck tonight.

Before Magnus could think of a snarky reply, he felt that Titus and Citrine were gone.

For a moment, he felt oddly alone. Then he realized Lindy was just in the next room, watching TV and waiting to eat with him, and he sighed, relaxing somewhat.

He was just where he was supposed to be, and if things went right, he’d never have to be alone again.



“Wow, this is really amazing,” Lindy said, twirling her fork in the delicious spaghetti that her ancient dragon warrior had somehow made.

How he could stomp into her office in a daring rescue one moment and cook her an awesome dinner the next, she didn’t know.

She just knew she was getting used to being with him and was starting to be unable to picture life without him.

Nearby, Perky was enjoying her dog food. She just seemed to be happier whenever Magnus was around.

Lindy was too. When she’d been alone in that office, threatened by Tommy, she’d felt that helplessness she’d felt after her dad’s death, that feeling of being isolated in the world, just for a moment.

And then Magnus had appeared in the doorway like some kind of avenging angel, and everything had been all right.

And she knew things would continue to be all right as long as they were together.

After several days, she just knew it. She couldn’t fight it anymore, how good it felt to look across the table at his kind green eyes, so focused on her. How good it felt to have someone to depend on, someone she could utterly trust.

“You like it?” he asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s amazing. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

He frowned. “Recipe?”

“You know, the ingredients and instructions for making it.”

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t have it.”

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