Daring Dragon's Dirty Secret (Shifter Doctor Daddies Instalove Romance 2)

CHAPTER SIX

Nathaniel

Shock and satisfaction mingled in my gut. It was beyond me to recognize that these two things contradicted each other, and yet they existed as solid and real as anything in the world around me.

I held Geraldine tight to my chest. The urge to keep her close was overwhelming, keeping me from relinquishing my grip. And she seemed to want to stay here, too.

I stroked her cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The sound of that word leaving her lips inspired explosive joy, the kind I never thought I would feel again. Instead of reaching for a drink, I had reached for her. What in the world was she doing to me?

“You’re welcome, baby girl,” I whispered. I pressed a kiss to her temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

I chuckled, the sound vibrating in my throat as I stroked her skin. Every layer of her responded to my touch, goosebumps trickling from her shoulders to her wrists. I loved to see it.

“Can you stay?” she asked.

I hummed. “I think I can.”

“You don’t have work?”

“Darling, do I look like I’m employed?”

She giggled, rolling over in my arms to rest her cheek on my chest. “I was just making sure.”

“You weren’t distracted from work, were you?”

A heavy silence fell between us. The way her breath hitched and her heart rate rose alerted me, putting my inner dragon on edge. She wanted to tell me something.

Green tendrils invaded my chest, inspiring me to sit up and cup her face. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

Her lower lip quivered as she avoided my gaze. I swept my thumbs under her cheekbones, doing my best to provide comfort. A shaky sigh escaped her lips.

“I . . ., I just . . .” She choked, closing her eyes and squeezing tears from her lids. I wiped them as they streamed down her face. “It’s my job.”

“What about it?”

She half-shrugged, a chuckle erupting suddenly. “I mean, it’s where I volunteer. It’s not really my job. I can’t afford much here.”

“No, it’s more than that.”

She squared her gaze on me, green eyes bright. Yes, that shade of green—it’s what I felt back in the garden where we made love. It infected me just as her affection did.

“I’m afraid to tell you, Nathaniel.”

I frowned. “Why? I’m here to protect you. Tell me.”

“What if…?”

My phone rang.

I closed my eyes in defeat, turning my head slightly. I didn’t want to release her, but I had to see who was calling. It could be Elsie.

Or worse, it could be my father.

I took my phone from my pocket. Bingo—Father was calling.

“It’s not a good time,” I answered. “What do you need?”

“I need you to put down the bottle and get your ass home.”

I bristled at his tone. “What’s the matter?”

“Mathias is sick. He’s running a fever and shivering. We can’t seem to get the fever down.”

I sprang up from the ground and walked purposefully across the clearing. “I’m on my way.”

Geraldine stood next to me, watching with wide eyes that still brimmed with tears. “Is he okay?”

“He will be okay, soon.” I kissed her cheek. “I’ll get back to you. I promise.”

“If anyone can help, it’s you, Nathaniel.”

I smiled as I laced my boots up. I stood upright, kissed her passionately, and headed reluctantly for the car. I pointed to her with a firm look. “Text me if anything happens.”

“Yes, sir.”

I grinned as I left, my heart expanding as I took her affection with me.

* * *

The estate was quiet when I returned home. I sprinted up the steps, and hauled ass inside, sniffing the air to search for my cousin’s familiar scent. Honeydew was Bartholomew. Burnt leaves were my father. Spring dew was Mathias.

The stairs took me to the second floor where I veered right and darted to the third door on the left. I barged inside,. The scene in front of me appeared more like a mourning procession than a concerned family hovering over their sick nephew.

Mathias looked ghastly. His pale skin was translucent—I could see his veins—and his face was slick with feverish sweat. Beads pooled around his eyes, on his chin, and his neck, heat ravishing him from the inside out.

His shaky hand extended to me. “Uncle Nate . . .it burns.”