Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

should listen to her early warning system—the one ring-a-ling-linging inside her head—and run for the nearest exit. Because sure as she was sitting there, they didn’t look happy with her suggestion.

Chapter Seventeen
    As far as strategies went, Myst’s was ingenuity in action. Beautiful, yet oh, so simple it sounded something like… if at first you don’t succeed, guilt your opponent into caving. Add a dash of feminine hope. Sprinkle in some bone-crushing dismay. Toss the whole dish with pleading violet eyes and…voilá, Bastian and his warriors had a recipe for disaster.
    A cocktail called pretty please with a cherry on top.
    “So…” Bastian glanced around the island and clamped down on the urge to laugh. For the first time ever, his warriors were speechless, unable to say no to the female who sat staring back at them. It was karma…payback with a knuckle-grinding punch. “Gregor, huh?”
    “It’s a great name…” she paused to fuss with the baby blanket, then looked right at him. And wham, he got the full effect of those baby blues. The second part of Myst’s plan had just been deployed. Clever, clever female. Bastian’s lips twitched even as he resisted the urge to adjust what was happening behind his fly. “It suits him, don’t you think?”
    “It’s a human name,” he said as she tilted her head, continuing to give him strong eye contact. Bastian shifted in his seat, becoming more uncomfortable by the second. God, what a female. She knew exactly how to play him. Still, he refused to give in without a fight. Okay, so he would give her what she wanted in the end—guaranteed—but that didn’t mean he had to be a pansy about it. “And he’s not—”
    “Caroline was human and so is he. At least half, right? I know he’s fathered by…” She worried her bottom lip with her straight, white teeth, nearly sending him into orbit. Man, he loved her mouth. “I mean, that’s why he’s here…because he’s one of you? But, he’s human, too, and I know my friend would like my choice.”
    Well, all right then. Sucker punch time. She was fighting dirty, slamming her trump card down on the table, the one labeled “mother and friend.” Which meant, they were off and running. Cuz, honestly, two could play that game.
    Although, he would have to wing it and hope for the best. His brain wasn’t working right. The reason? Most of the blood was no longer in his head. Hell, more than half of it had headed south on the desire train about five minutes ago.
    Folding his arms on the countertop, Bastian took a deep breath, needing his calm-cool-and-collected back. Yeah, that and a tub of cold water. He glanced at Rikar. Right. No help there. His best friend was trying to keep from cracking up. The warped SOB had one stupid sense of humor.
    Bastian glanced at the steel-framed wall clock across the kitchen. A little over thirty-six hours to go. So little time to make her want him…to make her accept him.
    Sloan cleared his throat, no doubt wanting him to get a move on.
    Still holding up the archway, Venom shifted behind him, the scrape of his boots against stone sounding loud in the silence. “B, maybe we could—”
    “I’ll make you a deal, Myst,” he said, cutting off his warrior’s capitulation. He didn’t care that Venom had problems denying a female anything. The big male would have to hang on…and bite holes in his tongue while he was at it. Bastian refused to give up his advantage. “I’ll give you the name Gregor if you give me something in return.”
    Suspicion glinted in her eyes. “What?”
    “His full name…the one recorded in the annals…will be Gregor Mayhem and—”
    A round of appreciative—and relieved—murmurs rose in the kitchen.
    “And?”
    “Your word that you’ll stay here and spend every waking hour of the next three days…” He paused for effect, wanting her to feel the weight of his resolve. “…with me. No escape attempts.”
    Her mouth fell open. After a second, she snapped it shut. “That’s not fair. I saved his life. I should get to—”
    “You want the name? That’s the deal, but be careful, bellmia . Think hard. Once you give your word…” He stared at her from beneath his brows, warning her by deed and word. “I’ll hold you to it.”
    Stuck between what she wanted and his conditions, Myst broke eye contact to glance down at the infant. Pretending to fuss, buying more time, she adjusted the blanket and then, as though unable to help