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  Dragon Fever

  Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

  Serena Meadows

  Copyright ©2020 by Serena Meadows - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Contents

  Secrets of My Dragon Protector

  Trusting My Dragon Hero

  Revenge of My Dragon Savior

  Saved By My Dragon Guardian

  Rescued By My Dragon Champion

  Also By Serena Meadows

  About the Author

  Join My Newsletter

  Secrets of My Dragon Protector

  Book I

  By

  Serena Meadows

  Chapter One

  Biting her tongue to prevent herself from screaming her fear and fury into Lloyd Peterson’s face, Natalie glared at the tall man who intimidated her with his sheer presence. Swallowing hard in order to loosen her mouth, she met his amused gray gaze.

  “Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Peterson,” she said, her voice as polite as she could make it. “But my answer is still no.”

  He was a handsome devil, she had to admit, even if his eyes were as cold and ruthless as a shark’s. His full lips smiled with feigned kindness, and he reached up to rake his fingers through his thick dark hair, only lightly salted with silver. “Come now, Ms. Hardstone,” he cajoled, obviously aiming for a friendliness Natalie was certain he didn’t feel, “my offer will set you up for the rest of your life. Do you really want to work yourself to death on this money pit?”

  That nearly set her off into a torrent of wild swearing. Drawing herself up to her full five-foot, six-inch height, Natalie spoke with a calm chill. “This money pit, as you call it, has been in my family for three generations. If it’s such a money drain, why do you want it?”

  Peterson shrugged lazily, gazing around at her spacious office, her antique mahogany desk piled with her paperwork. The oak walls with tree trunks for beams held the trophies her grandfather had shot more than seventy years ago—elk, mule deer, a bobcat, a black bear. Oil paintings of the landscape of western Maine joined them, gifts from an artist who had died long ago.

  “I have the wherewithal to invest in it,” he answered, his voice nearly as icy as hers. “Do you?”

  “That’s none of your business.” Natalie toyed with the end of her long braid, a thick rope of spicy red that fell nearly to her waist. “My inn is doing quite well, thank you.”

  “Is it?” His smile widened, yet it held no warmth or humor. “That’s not what I’ve seen. You are out of the black and into the red, and fewer and fewer tourists come here on their vacations. You need marketing and advertising dollars, billboards along the interstate, inform people you are here. Do you have that kind of extra cash?”

  Setting her hands on her slender hips, Natalie wished she were big enough, and that it were legal, to smash that insolent, sneering face with her fist. “Again, that is none of your business. Now, please leave. I have work to do.”

  Lloyd Peterson’s smile faded. “Yes,” he said, his tone slightly menacing. “I am sure you have much work to do to keep this place running. I would suggest you reconsider my most generous offer, Ms. Hardstone. It would be a shame to have all your work go to waste.”

  Natalie stiffened. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  The thin and polite sneer returned to his face. “Accidents happen, my dear. I would hate to think of one occurring on your fine property.”

  “Get out.” Shaking in her rage, Natalie grit her teeth to still them from chattering. “I’ll call the cops if you don’t get your ass out of here right now.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he replied. “I’m leaving. But I’d advise you to reconsider my offer before anything bad happens.”

  With a mocking salute, his fingers lifted to his brow, Peterson turned on his heel and left her office. Giving him a few seconds head start, Natalie followed him down the short hallway past the kitchen, through the expansive dining room. Guests sat at tables, dining on the best steak and seafood Natalie could afford, prepared by a chef worth his weight in gold bullion.

  Peterson strode out the big front doors without stopping, and through the massive picture window, Natalie watched as he got into the silver Mercedes parked illegally in the fire lane. Arrogant bastard. She didn’t turn away from the window until he had driven out of sight. Her inner trembles making her nauseous, Natalie gazed at her guests, the two waitresses tending to their needs with gracious smiles.

  I won’t let him have this place. I’ll come up with the cash to market my business, get more customers. How Peterson came by his information was not hard to guess. Her inn, the Bucks Head Lodge, sat a few miles outside the small town of Landson, in western Maine. With a population of fewer than three thousand souls, people tended to gossip.

  Heading back to her office, Natalie paused to smile and speak to a couple in their seventies, folks who had been repeat customers for years. “How is everything?” she asked.

  Mrs. Harper beamed up at her from her finely wrinkled face. “Just lovely, dear. Delicious as always.”

  “Glad to hear it. You folks let me know if you need anything.”

  “We will.”

  Natalie always liked the Harpers, even if Mr. Harper hardly ever spoke. Delightfully easy to please, they tipped generously and hardly ever complained. I need hundreds more just like the Harpers. Stopping at other tables to greet her guests, she felt her frazzled nerves calming under the contented replies.

  Entering the kitchen, Natalie found the chef, Rick Charles, busy finishing the lunch session. He, and his assistant, who also bussed tables, would take a break before preparing for dinner. “How’s everything?” she asked.

  Rick, young despite all of his talent and experience in cooking, gave her a grin. “Just fine, boss lady. No one sent their food back so far.”

  “Great. Everyone seems happy.” Natalie hesitated, knowing Rick had asked for a raise and certainly deserved one. Yet, she couldn’t afford it right now. She feared she’d lose him to a competitor, as he had turned down generous offers before. “Hang with me, will you, Rick?” she asked. “I’ll get you your raise as soon as I can.”

  Always a showoff, Rick gave her a dramatic bow, his cook’s white’s pristine even after preparing both breakfast and lunch. “You got it, m’lady. The Stafford Inn might pay a little more, but that old geezer treats his staff like indentured servants. You behave as though I’m your family.”

  Natalie laughed. “Maybe because I do think of you as my blood relations, all of you.”

  Rick pulled a long face. “Even that idiot, Georgette? Sheesh, Natalie, she’s as useless as tits on a billiard ball.”

  “She does her work well,” Natalie replied. “She might be slow in cleaning the rooms, but I cannot complain.”

  “I saw Lloyd Peterson a few minutes ago.” Rick’s expression turned serious. “You aren’t going to sell, are you?”

  “No.” Natalie crossed her arms over her chest. “But this time, he made some vague threats about accidents.”

  “Report him to the cops.” Rick’s lips tightened. “In case something does happen. That guy is trouble on the hoof.”

  “I know. But what he said can’t really be considered a threat. The police can’t do anything about it.�
�

  “Be careful, Natalie,” he said. “I’ve heard things about him.”

  “What sort of things?” Natalie watched his face carefully.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” he went on, his serious blue eyes on hers. “But rumors say he won’t stop at anything to get his way. Not even murder.”

  Chapter Two

  Unable to control his foul and angry attitude, even over the passage of time, Ju’dahant Ohn’aka rode the motorcycle through the heavily forested region the maps he used called Maine. He had flown south for as long as he dared, then walked. Finally disgusted by that horrid means of transportation, he became intrigued by the humans he saw riding the two-wheeled contraptions.

  “I want to buy one of these,” he had told the small motorcycle shop he found in some backwater town. “Can you teach me to ride it?”

  The shop’s owner, a heavy-set male with a thick growth of hair on his face and head, shrugged. “Sure.”

  Shortening his name to Jude in introducing himself, he learned to ride the thing. But not before several falls that scraped the skin from his hands, arms, and legs. The owner was patient with him, and thus Jude’s already angry humors didn’t boil over to the point where he’d kill the fellow.

  The man took his cash for the lessons and the cycle, and Jude rode away. Much easier than walking. And faster. Thus he joined the multitudes on the highway system, safely anonymous and appearing as one of them.

  Never reveal what you are, he had been told. Should the humans find out about us, our kind will be slaughtered. He had tried to live by that credo, but he enjoyed flying far too much for the safety of the clan. Turned out, expelled, banished, Jude went south to live among the humans.

  “Can you recommend a place to stay?” he asked a waitress in a diner several days later.

  He had traveled along the highways and back roads, not truly sure of where he wanted to go. Eventually, his cash would run out; he supposed he would be forced to find some sort of work in due course. Tired of sleeping on the ground when he stopped to rest, he thought to make inquiries about lodging.

  The waitress was attractive in a plump sort of way, but Jude had no interest in mating with a human. On the other hand, she could not cease staring at him. Clearly, she lusted for him, although he had no idea what a human female would find attractive.

  “Sure,” she replied, all but thrusting her bosom in his face. “There’s an inn not far out of town. It’s called the Buck’s Head Lodge, got great food there. Nice place.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jude hoped she’d go away then, but she continued to all but gobble him up with her eyes. Growing uncomfortable and annoyed, Jude turned his head to gaze out the window, ignoring her presence. She continued to stand at his table, rudely invading his territorial space.

  As humans did not tolerate the killing of one another, except in certain circumstances, that was out of the question. If Jude was to live among them now, he had to play by their rules. He glanced back at the woman and snapped, “Leave me alone, will you?”

  She huffed in offended indignation but left his table at last. He finished his meal in angry silence, wishing he could kill the clan elders who had cast him out. I do not belong here. I belong in the frozen north, among my own kind and not these rude and despicable humans.

  Hitting the road again, Jude had almost forgotten the waitress’s recommendation for a place to stay while he figured out what he was going to do. It made little sense to keep roaming until his money ran out. Then he would be stuck with nothing. I have to learn skills down here in order to get work.

  He passed the Buck’s Head Lodge before remembering the waitress had recommended it as being a nice place with good food. Slowing down, Jude turned the motorcycle around and went back. Parking the bike in the hardpacked dirt lot, he gazed up at the magnificent structure made entirely of huge trees.

  Four river rock chimneys stuck up from the wood-shingled roof, and a huge wrap-around patio held tables with sun umbrellas offering shade. People sat at them with drinks, talking and smiling, some old, some young, and a few children played on the playground to the right of the lodge.

  He trod up the stone steps and went in through the big, polished wood doors. Entering a broad and expansive dining room with a massive hearth at one end, he glanced around curiously. It felt homey and comfortable to him, with rich dark walls and the heads of various animal species hanging on them.

  “Can I help you?”

  Jude turned to find a young woman with fiery red hair caught into a thick braid standing behind a wood counter. Her friendly smile and bright green eyes captured his attention immediately, and Jude found himself smiling back. “Yes, you might be able to help me,” he answered, striding toward her. “I heard this was a nice place to stay.”

  “It is indeed,” she replied. “I’m certain I can offer you excellent accommodations. How long might you be staying?”

  Jude shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m looking for work in the area.”

  The young woman shook her head, but her smile didn’t fade. “Decent employment is scarce in this part of the state. Unless you want to work for a logging company, but the big cities are where the work is.”

  Jude found himself fascinated by her intelligent and captivating eyes, her high cheekbones and kind smile. This might be a human that others consider attractive. I certainly find her so. “I don’t like the cities,” he answered.

  “Nor do I,” she said, then put her hand out. “I’m Natalie Hardstone. I own the place.”

  Jude gently shook it. “I’m Jude Onaka,” he replied, shortening his name to something a human would understand.

  “You have a cool accent, Mr. Onaka,” she went on. “Where are you from?”

  “Way to the north of here.”

  “Ah, Canadian.” Ms. Hardstone nodded briefly, still smiling. “We get lots of Canadians here, but yours is an accent I have never heard before.”

  For obvious reasons, Jude couldn’t tell her he was further north than Canada, which he had flown over at great risk to his safety. Instead, he grinned and said, “We’re a different bunch up there.”

  “Well, welcome,” she told him, her eyes on his. “I’ll just need some identification and a credit card.”

  Jude’s grin faded. “I have cash, and I don’t have any identification.”

  Ms. Hardstone frowned slightly. “No passport?”

  “No.”

  “How did you get into the country?”

  “I, er, snuck across the border.”

  For a moment, Jude thought she would send him on his way, for an expression of suspicion crossed her beautiful face. She said nothing for long moments, studying him, and he uneasily recalled from his lessons how humans preyed upon one another. One such lesson spoke of terrorists who secretly entered other countries to wreak havoc and kill.

  “Uh, I want to say I am harmless,” he said, and knew it was a rather lame thing to say. Something a terrorist might tell her to be reassuring.

  Suddenly, she chuckled. “You are far too good looking to be harmless, if you don’t mind my boldness. I bet you break hearts wherever you go.”

  Jude recalled the waitress and how she stared at him. “You find me attractive?”

  “Well, yeah. Don’t other women?”

  “I don’t know.” He returned her smile. “Maybe. I never thought about it.”

  “I’ll take a chance that you’re as harmless as you say, Mr. Onaka,” she told him. “How long do you think you might stay while you look for work?”

  “How about a month to start?”

  “That’s great,” she said and told him how much a month for a room and the food would cost.

  As he counted out the money, Ms. Hardstone informed him of the meal hours, when the room would be cleaned, and a little bit about work in the area. “You might have some trouble getting a job without an ID,” she said. “But there are places that will hire, even if you are illegal in the country.”

  “
Is that what I am?” he asked with a grin. “Illegal?”

  “You sure are.” Ms. Hardstone put the cash in a drawer and selected a key. “Let me show you to your room.”

  Jude followed her up the huge staircase made of a mixture of stone and polished wood, enjoying the sight of her small, slender body. She led him to the third floor, then opened a door at the end of the hallway. The room turned out to be more spacious than he expected, with a big bed and handmade wooden furniture.

  “I hope you like it, Mr. Onaka,” she told him, standing aside. “This is one of my favorites as it has such a magnificent view.”

  Pacing to the window, Jude gazed out at the rolling hills and the thickly green forest. A lake, glinting silver and blue under the sunlight, gleamed among the trees. “I can see why it would be,” he replied, turning back to her. “Thank you for giving me this room.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Though he stood across the room from her, Jude stared into her jade eyes and felt—something—pass between them. What it was, he didn’t know, as he never felt anything like that before. He saw from her expression that she felt it, too, and that it worried her.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice low. “I’m not a terrorist or an evil being who came here to wreak havoc.”

  Ms. Hardstone blushed faintly. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking that. It just came to me that I feel fortunate that you’re here. And I don’t know why.”

  Jude chuckled. “Maybe I will bring you good luck.”

  Ms. Hardstone reached for the door handle, the key still in it. “Here. Take your key.”

  Crossing the room to hand it to him, she gazed up into his face for a long moment. “If there is anything you need, let me know.”