The Dragon's Pursuit (Lochguard Highland Dragons 7)

She glared a second at Connor and then murmured, "We'll talk about this later. Just be nice and quiet with Aimee here, aye? I should be back in an hour or two."

"Of course I'll watch over her, Cat. I can be cheeky, but I'm not a bastard."

She smiled. "I know." Moving toward the door, she gave her brother one last look before exiting her small cottage.

As she made her way toward the Protector's main security building, where the meeting was to be held, her dragon growled before saying, I don't like that Connor broke into our studio.

Neither do I, dragon. But scolding him will only provoke him into sharing the photo. So we'll have to tread lightly.

I don't know why you're so worried. It's just a painting.

Aye, but a painting of a human who never gave his permission for us to paint him. And given both his position and his personality, I don't think he'll like it much if he finds out.

Originally, the project had been to make a silly painting, one that would make Lachlan the Serious smile.

But as she'd worked on the thing, it'd turned into something more. Something she'd love to display and show off since it was probably her best work to date. However, it would also raise suspicions about Cat wanting the human male.

And she most definitely didn't need another challenge in her life at the moment, what with her mother not feeling well for the last few months and Cat having to help out more and more at her mum's restaurant. Lachlan may be sexy in his own quiet, reserved way, but she didn't have time to find out what made the human so reserved and strung tight.

After helping to raise and take care of her four siblings, Cat was tired of trying to heal and look after others. Maybe if she found the right male, that would change. But Lachlan was most definitely not the male for her.

She finally arrived at the security bu

ilding and made her way to the first conference room, which was always the one used for human visitors, to avoid giving too much of the building's layout away. Stopping at the door, she greeted Iris, one of the higher-up Protectors. "Hello, Iris. Is he here yet?"

"Aye, although I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't worn a hole in the floor from all his pacing."

She murmured her thanks, took a deep breath, and walked in.

Lachlan MacKintosh stopped on the far side of the room in mid-pace, and she had to blink. He'd changed in the nearly nine months since she'd last seen him.

Aye, he'd been strong enough before, but he now had muscled biceps to rival that of a dragon-shifter. Not only that, his hair was softer, a touch lighter from either time somewhere sunny or he'd highlighted his hair.

Her dragon snorted. I doubt he'd sit still in a salon.

Given his tanned skin, Cat agreed it was probably from the sun. And most definitely not from being in the UK either since it was winter.

He raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing. The action snapped her back to the purpose of the meeting. "If you're waiting for an apology about me being two minutes late, you're not going to get one."

"I wasn't expecting an apology. But you were staring, and I was curious as to why."

The male and his infernal politeness. "You're fishing for a compliment, aren't you?"

He shrugged his well-defined shoulders. "No. But aye, I'm different from before. Considering how much I'm going to be working with dragon-shifters in the coming months, I decided to better prepare myself, in case the worst happens."

Once she shut the door, she asked slowly, "What sort of assignment requires you to train up like that?"

"My answer will depend on how this meeting goes."

She resisted narrowing her eyes at his vague statement. If she could handle her younger siblings—Connor and Jamie in particular—then she could certainly handle one polite, arrogant human male.

Cat pulled out a chair, sat down, and crossed one leg over another, readjusting her long skirt as she did so. "Well? I'm here, so aren't you going to start? As I recall, you love keeping everything to a timetable."

She swore his lips twitched, but if so, it was gone before she could blink, replaced by his usual firmly closed lips.

Lips she'd painted several times, never seeming to get right the fullness of the bottom and slightly less so of the top.

Not wanting to think of what those lips could do if they were on a more agreeable male, she tilted her head in question.