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In a laboratory behind the walls of a castle, Natalia Zakharova Kinross, Lady of Kinlarig, hides her many secrets. But for how much longer? For not only is a medical miracle embedded within her skin, a mythological dragon prowls the grounds. And there are men who will stop at little to lay claim to both.
Though Luke Dryden, cryptozoologist, is welcomed back to the castle at the tip of a blade, an old romance ignites. Until a lingering illness acquired in a secret biotechnology facility takes a turn for the worse – all while disaster circles. To help defend a lady and her dragon, he must attempt a risky cure.
As old enemies threaten their future, they will fight back to back in a desperate last stand…
Releasing August 8, 2018
Available for preorder now
Scotland, March 1885
“Luke Dryden.” Natalia’s voice sliced through the air.
With a final pat to the dragon’s head, he straightened and met her ice-blue gaze. Aether, he’d missed her. Though, judging from the grip she had on the swept hilt of a sixteenth century Italian rapier, she didn’t feel the same. Guilt tightened his chest. He’d been wrong not to say a proper farewell.
Her soft-soled, leather-laced boots didn’t make a sound as she descended the stairs into the courtyard, her dark scowl brightened only by golden hair that was swept back from her face, braided and tightly secured in a crowning circlet. About her neck, the ever-present scarf. A corset, cut and boned for ease of movement. Gone were her skirts, replaced by trousers that hugged her lean curves… in a manner that was going to see him killed.
He lifted his gaze and nodded, careful not to smile. “Lady Kinlarig.” The moment called for diplomacy. He was, after all, long overdue. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She snorted. “Kinross’s death, though unanticipated, was not the least bit objectionable.” From the look on her face, his death would also be welcome. “I refuse to mourn.”
“Many apologies,” Luke began. “I did not intend to be away for so many months.”
“Months?” Her eyebrows rose. There was a sharp edge to her voice. “Two years have passed without so much as a skeet pigeon. After the actions of your department this past year, or lack thereof, I’m surprised you dare return.” She tested the weight of the blade in her hand, as if considering which body part of his to remove first.