“All right, sweetheart,” she said, throwing the car into gear and backing out. “We are going to get you to a hospital and hope you don't bleed green or something. Or a large animal vet? Hell, maybe a zoo.”
“No!”
She jumped, and it was a good thing that she wasn't in traffic because his sharp cry made her tap the brakes. Harper turned in her seat to see that Morgan was sitting half up, his copper eyes wide and an intent look on his face.
As she watched, his arm hit the glass with a hard thump, and he started to shift, as if he wanted to twist around in the seat. For a brief and terrible moment, she had a vision of him transforming into a dragon again and taking the roof off of her car, and she must have made some startled cry because he turned to her, quick as a snake.
She gasped when his hand shot out to grasp her wrist. There was no pain in his grip, but there was an entreaty there that took her breath away.
“Morgan?”
“No. No hospitals,” he said desperately. “I'm just…please. Take me home. Harper. Please.”
Harper's breath caught in her throat. Something had seized her by the heart and refused to let it go. She could no more deny him than she could ask the sun to stay in bed at dawn.
“You're not hurt? Please tell me you're not hurt.”
To her surprise, a slight smile drifted across his handsome face. When he smiled, it shaved years off of him, left him looking almost heartrendingly boyish.
“Just take me home with you,” he whispered, and then he was out again.
Harper took a moment to catch her breath, and instinctively she reached out to squeeze Morgan's limp hand.
“All right,” she said, “but if I get stopped by the cops, I am prodding you awake and making you explain it all to them.”
She drove carefully all the way home, and the fifteen-minute drive only felt like it was taking forever. For once, it was actually in her favor that it wasn't a great neighborhood. No one seemed to think it was weird that a woman was taking her drunk boyfriend home at the end of the night, and things went fairly smoothly until she pulled into the covered garage at her complex.
This time, there were no handy teens to help her move a body, and she bit her lip.
“Okay, this is just going to look ridiculous.”
The apartment had several large dollies that people used for moving their things in and out. They were clunky and grimy, and as it turned out, the largest one was just barely large enough for Morgan's long body to rest upon it with his legs dragging on the floor.
“All right, you know, suit all aside, Mr. Dragon, you are going to owe me big time for this.”
The dolly, never in the best of shape in the first place, clunked all the way to the elevator, and there was one hairy moment when the wheel stuck in the door. Her wrist was twinging more urgently, and Harper promised it plenty of painkillers and a nice ice pack once she was done. Only a little further.
She got the dolly in her apartment, and then she pulled it alongside the couch. From there, she could half-shove, half-roll Morgan over onto the cushions. It went smoothly enough, but when his weight was even briefly on his right arm, Morgan winced until he rolled over onto his back. Then his face smoothed, and she made a note to be careful about his right arm moving on. She knew all about sore spots, both physical and emotional.
Once she got him on the couch, she ended up sprawled on the dolly he had just vacated, breathing hard and more exhausted than she should have been.
In a distant way, Harper realized that she was shivering, and she thought it must have been shock or something like it. There was a strange and unconscious man in her apartment, and apparently, he could sometimes turn into a dragon. All right. That was fine.
Without thinking, she reached for his hand, and still unconscious, his fingers closed securely around hers. Harper knew she could get away if she needed to, but even as she had the thought, a certain kind of calm flowed into her, through her.
Everything is going to be all right.
The words echoed in her head, and for some reason, they were spoken in Morgan's voice.
“You think so, huh?” she asked, and this time she received no answer.
There was a part of Harper that wanted to stay on the dolly like some kind of sacrificial virgin, just stay in place and hope for the best.
The part of her that had started her own business and decided, sure, sewing was a great career for someone whose wrists ached with every new shift in the weather, told her, no, that wasn't acceptable.
It was time to get up, it was time to return the dolly to the bay, to change her clothes and then maybe get some food going. When Morgan got up, it would be time to get some answers.
Even as she heaved herself to her feet, Harper sighed. She had no idea what kind of answers he might provide. Hell, she barely had any idea what the questions should be.
Then, unexpectedly, Harper smiled, a strange delight welling up inside her.
There are dragons in the world…and this one is so gorgeous.
Chapter Six
∞∞∞
When Morgan finally regained consciousness, his first thought was, Have I humiliated myself completely and utterly in front of my mate?
His second thought was, What smells so good?
His head felt as if it was full of cotton the way it always did after a transformation these days. From the low and urgent pain that radiated from his shoulder, he knew that he had to move carefully. Otherwise that pain would flare up unmercifully,
