The Scottish Dragon’s Baby Surprise: A Howls Romance Read online

  The Scottish Dragon’s Baby Surprise

  A Howls Romance

  Naomi Sparks

  Contents

  Blurb

  1. Ella

  2. Bram

  3. Ella

  4. Bram

  5. Bram

  6. Ella

  7. Bram

  8. Ella

  9. Bram

  10. Ella

  11. Bram

  12. Ella

  Also by Naomi Sparks

  Blurb

  I hear people’s thoughts. That’s pretty tough when you live in New York city.

  That’s why I chose to go to Scotland for some much needed peace and quiet.

  While walking on the moors I meet a man who looks like he’s built from granite, impossibly handsome. Imagine my surprise when I discove I cannot hear his thoughts.

  It’s all radio silence but the sexual signals roll off him in waves.

  I don’t have to be a mind reader to know this vacation is going to deliver more than I expected.

  1

  Ella

  My suitcase wobbled for a moment before thumping haphazardly against the floor. Next to it, I dropped my overflowing duffel bag, and let out a long breath. Equally relieved and exhausted from the long trans-Atlantic flight, I now stood in the middle of my temporary home for the next month. It was every bit as far away from the loud, in-your-face everything that is the city as you could get.

  And, of course, I mean The City. New York. Believe me, when you're born a New Yorker, it's all there ever is for you. People talk about any other city, and you sit there silently judging them with an air of disapproval because you know there's only one. The City.

  But I had enough of the damn place and needed a change. I just never really thought I'd see the day when I pushed aside all of my irrational fears and leave the city that never sleeps in my rearview mirror.

  My final decision was based more on the fact that I could no longer control or ward off the tsunami of voices giving me a permanent migraine. Be grateful you've never had a migraine from hearing two million voices screeching about the price of Starbuck's latest holiday-themed lattes. And that's just Brooklyn!

  Telepathy in a crowd of people can be tiresome,

  My shoulders slumped as I thought about my warm, lumpy mattress back home. I'd take it over any five-star hotel bed if it meant that I could pick up my headphones and blast away the deafening roar with my favorite new Shimmy Shakers album while cuddled up under the covers.

  I let out another sigh and searched in the darkness for a light switch. It was only four o'clock back home, but in the quiet town of Bridge of Orchy, Scotland, night had settled over the small cottage.

  The quaint white cottage was drafty, and I could already feel the chill from behind me. I frowned, mentally comparing the warm, inviting pictures of the town's main hotel I saw online, to the older, outdated cottage's interior. Luckily, there was a fireplace, although I had to figure out how to start it.

  There was a faint creaking as I crossed the wooden floors, looking around the open room. The kitchen with its deep sink basin looked somewhat decent, and I checked the funny-looking refrigerator, thankful to see that there was a large casserole dish with a little white note on top.

  I hadn't eaten since earlier, so my stomach was practically growling as I flipped open the little note.

  Miss Daly,

  Your first bit of authentic Scottish food - please enjoy your first night's supper on us!

  Yours,

  The McKinleys

  I smiled. The gesture made it easier to take a deep breath and do what I came to Scotland to do- unwind. And also stay away from the male species as a whole. But mainly to relax.

  I didn't know what needed a chance to be soothed more—my mind, or my lady parts. Working off of a seven-month dry spell, I was aching for the kind of touch I couldn't get from myself, but knowing the exact thoughts of the man who's doing all the touching is the quickest way to make me want to turn celibate. So Scotland it was.

  Completely wired due to the time difference, I was just ready to pass out as the first few rays of sunlight filtered inside the cottage. I was stuffed from the delicious meat pasties the McKinleys had left me and had finally figured out how to light the fireplace, so I shrugged my shoulders and passed out in the warm bed anyway. I'm allowed one day to catch up.

  --

  My first real day in Scotland was nearly a complete waste, and I realized this as I yawned, sitting up only to notice my phone's screen flashing at me. Six missed texts from Mom and nine between Desi and Colette. When my little sisters were worried about me, that's when I knew I was a teensy bit irresponsible about the 'I'm alive' call.

  As I began my many apologies to Mom and my sisters, it hit me that something was missing. Something seemed off.

  Slowly sliding out of bed, I slipped my feet into some house slippers and grabbed for my robe hanging on a nearby hook. I had walked around the cottage several times before it dawned on me.

  In New York, I was used to getting up and being immediately bombarded by my newlywed neighbors' sluggish morning thoughts. Raj and Amira had a penchant for morning sex. Unfortunately, for an apartment full of psychically inclined women, that was generally the first thing we had to try and block out, among the many.

  I found myself searching, trying to reach out to the nearest mind, but the cottage I was crashing in was the furthest away from the main hotel, positioned right under a vast snow-capped mountain. There was no one closer than a quarter of a mile. I was alone with my thoughts and didn't even have to block anyone out.

  A slow smile spread across my face. The whole plane ride I was filled with anxiety—what if I came all this way and still didn't get the solace I was seeking? I'd never been far enough away from New York to know if there was a limit to my reach. It had been so long since I had experienced this kind of quiet and silence, and my heart lifted with hope.

  A circus-themed melody rang in my pocket, and I pulled out my phone, only slightly disappointed for the break intrusion of silence. "Hey, Mom."

  "I know I promised not to call you right away this morning, but . . ."

  "It's okay," I mused, leaning against the wall that had the least amount of pictures and knick-knacks shelved together on it. "But I'm fine. Really."

  "One day, you'll understand, Ella baby. You and your sisters have me given me gray hair in areas it shouldn't grow."

  "Ugh, gross, Mom. I can take care of myself. And I uh, realized something, too."

  The light chatter in the background ceased at once. "What's that?"

  "I don't hear anything. Like, at all. There's only my thoughts in my head and the occasional birds in a tree outside." My tone was light, but I knew Mom could pick up on just how big this was.

  "Really? How far away are you from the nearest person, exactly? You know you probably shouldn't be so isolated, just in case you need to--"

  "I needed the space. You know that," I cut her off, running my thumb along the rough edge of the windowsill, glancing through the sheer curtains. "It's been . . . nice."

  There was a pause on the other end of the line before she sighed to herself. "I'm sure it has been, baby. Whatever you need to do to help yourself, you know I'm always behind you one hundred and ten percent." A quick intake of breath later, "Oh shit, I better get going. Mr. Bellamy wants me on tonight's shift."

  "Okay, Mom. Call me when you can. Tell Desi and Colette I said I love them."

  Sliding the phone back in my pocket, I let my thoughts wander back toward home. On the one hand, I felt guilty for leaving for a whole month and using two mo
nths' worth of my paychecks to pay for this awesome deal of a trip. Colette was still too young to get a real job, and Desi went through waitressing jobs as rapidly as I went through earplugs. Being the oldest meant I had to be the responsible one.

  Mom didn't have a hard time making money to pay rent, not when she could predict the future in bits and pieces. Her abilities were strong, but sometimes they flickered, so she had to keep a steady job on top of the psychic hotline she worked for after hours. She could have worked anywhere, but my mom was a tried and true honest woman who didn't believe in swindling people out of their money. It was the same pesky moral high ground she instilled in me, although sometimes I suspect Desi missed that lesson growing up.

  I looked at the fat wad of Scottish notes in my wallet and tried to remind myself why I was here. It was only the first day, and I had barely done more than eat and relax in the cottage. Deciding to hang out at the cottage for the rest of the day, I pulled out the book I picked up at the airport and sat down in the armchair.

  I had big plans. And they were all going to have to wait until tomorrow.

  --

  It was hard to say when I began to regret signing up for the walking tour- probably the moment I started to stray from the obvious path and refused to look anywhere else other than the looming fog rolling across the moor not far from us.

  Maybe it was when I turned around and saw that my tour guide was much further down the road than I remembered. He was droning on about the climate of the Scottish Highlands in April. I could still hear his and other people's inner voices. I decided to let that be my tether to my group, and continued walking in the opposite direction, amazed by how purple the heather was against the greenest grass I'd ever seen before.

  With the exception of Central Park, I'd barely had the chance to enjoy nature for what it was. As someone who felt the energy running between all living things, (this would be the part where Desi would quip about Mom's woo-woo talk getting to my head), it surprised me to feel so relaxed outside of my usual concrete box of a comfort zone.

  The silence crept back in, and I stupidly forgot that I was actually using the noise to keep track of my group. Before I knew it, I was far from the small village and my group. I was lost.

  I rolled my eyes at myself. "No, you're not lost, you idiot. You just have to retrace your steps." I mumbled to myself, turning back around.

  But at some point on my way to where I was standing, I'd veered away from the mountain path, and now I had no idea if retracing my steps would even help since I hadn't been paying attention.

  Some birds called out to each other overhead, and I watched with increasing worry as the light started to dip behind the mountain, a chill setting in almost immediately. It was spring for God's sake! Why was it still so cold?

  When the fog started rolling in, the tour guide's warning echoed in the back of my head. The moors are not to be trifled with, as simple as they look. One step in the wrong spot, and you're up to your waist in mud and cold. It was getting harder to see the ground as plainly in front of me, and I tried to book it faster back the way I came, but my legs were getting wobbly. I wasn't exactly known for my enthusiasm for hiking back in Brooklyn.

  I bit my lip, trying to keep calm with each step I took and pressed on, knowing there was no stopping.

  I checked my phone, giving up on being the strong woman who could easily hike a few miles out of the way of civilization, but to my horror, there was no signal. It should've been a given considering where I was, but I had simply forgotten. I really was alone.

  I sucked in a deep breath and locked down the panic that was threatening to spiral out of control inside me when a noise startled me from behind. Spinning around on the soft ground, I clutched my small backpack closer to me. It has to be an animal or something. Maybe a cute little rabbit. Definitely not a lethally poisonous snake or anything.

  The soft grass was being trampled underfoot, and most definitely not by a little rabbit, or even a huge snake. It was something much, much bigger.

  I froze. I convinced myself to stand still, so whatever was out there wouldn't see me and would continue on its merry way. That lasted until I saw a huge shadow cross an expanse of bare ground.

  2

  Bram

  It was far too cold for someone to be out on the moors, much less by themselves. The fog was especially thick as it rolled over the wild green, where I could usually see more than just the length of my nose in front of me. On any other night I would have enjoyed taking a stroll through it, but the small shadow that dashed past the rocks to my left spooked me.

  And let me tell you, it's no easy feat to spook a dragon.

  The person's heartbeat was racing away in their chest, a feeble throb against the surrounding night pounding out the rhythm that every wild creature knew—fear. Deep inside me, something thrummed to life, stirring. Gritting my teeth, I hammered it down, reminding the damned beast that it wasn't a full moon just yet. I still had a few more peaceful nights, at least. One would think that after over a century of looking, the dragon would understand that I was no longer interested in mating with some would-be soul mate. Hell, I didn’t even believe in in such a thing. But the beast was always ready to assert himself at the first sign of a woman.

  I took a few more steps in the direction I was headed, pretending to not notice. I could easily have left the person there, it was their own foolish fault that they were stranded so close to the thick of the moor. I'm no hero.

  Something about the smaller being's heartbeat made me grunt to myself though. Damn it all to hell… I wouldn't be leaving until I'd made sure that the lucky bampot didn't come down with pneumonia.

  My dragon uncurled itself from in the back of my mind, listening carefully. It was far more invested than usual, but I just pushed that back too. "Hello?" I called out, cupping my hand to my mouth.

  In the three seconds I would give myself before giving up and taking off, I heard a faint cry of relief. "Oh, thank God. I'm over here!"

  The closer I got to the woman, the harder her heart beat in her chest. Without the moonlight casting its usual shadows on the fog, I couldn't make her out nearly as well as I would have on a full moon night.

  "Are you okay? What in God's name are you doin' out here on your own?"

  And suddenly she was there in front of me, tiny compared to my bulk. If I believed in the things, I'd have sworn she was a fairie. She came up to the top of my ribs. Her smooth oval face and dark unruly hair somehow seemed to fit the moors. I'd seen many a bonnie lass up and around these parts ever since I came to live here, but none like her. Her large, dark eyes reminded me of a doe, and the layers of clothing she had draped around her made me think of a gypsy.

  Well, it was possible she was one. You can never be too sure of the gypsy folk.

  The dragon inside was skulking about, eyeing her inch by inch with its narrowly slit eyes. It didn’t take it long to decide that she was perfectly acceptable to mate with, it's aggravating pull to her enough to make me want to slap myself just for the sake of pissing it off.

  She wiped at her nose, taking me in slowly until she concluded that I wasn't there to harm her. "I got separated from the tour." Her voice was without the usual lilt, marking her as a foreigner. I guessed American, my mind already wanting to crack a joke about city dwellers. Who else would think it wise to get lost in the moors?

  I nodded, pressing my lips together out of rising concern for the fullness of her lips and my dragon’s interest. Reminding myself I wasn't this woman's keeper, I jutted my thumb to the right. "Very well. Not sure how you could've pulled that one off, but this is the way you're wantin' to go. Follow me."

  "I was just distracted. It was much easier to pull off than you'd think."

  I ignored her, cutting through the path I usually took without bothering to look back and make sure she was keeping up. If she got herself lost a second time around, then bless her soul on the way to the pearly gates—there'd be no helping her.

 
"This way then," I mumbled, hearing her heartbeat close behind.

  "Is it very far from the town? It didn't seem like I had walked that far." She stumbled over the rocks until she was nearly walking next to me, pulling her layers of bundles around her even tighter. "What are you doing out here, anyway? This doesn't seem like a place that locals go wandering at night."

  I quirked a brow, still not looking at her. All I wanted to do was to get this woman back to wherever it was she was staying, and to head home. I could almost feel my bed calling my name.

  "Well, that's a solidly personal question, don't ya think? I'm no’ here because I like being out here. I’m here because it’s quiet," I grumbled, shaking my head.

  The woman chuckled to herself. "Sorry. I didn't realize asking you why you were out in the middle of nowhere was a deeply personal question."

  And a smart mouth, too? How lovely. "Look, I'm tryin’ to get you where you need to go. If you'd rather me take off and leave you here, I can do that too," I growled, no longer caring about being nice. If she didn’t want to be grateful for the help, then there was nothing more to say.

  "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I was just trying to make conversation. It's what I do when I'm freezing my ass off." She took a few more long strides to catch up, puffing along next to me. "That's all there is to do around here, right? Just walk around and enjoy the scenery?"

  She groaned as her foot sank deep into the mud, her boot coming back up with a loud squelch as she yanked it back out. Fighting the smug grin on my face was a losing battle.

  "That's right, laugh it up. Poor little American girl, doesn't like getting dirty. Sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I hardly care. I would just rather not die out here in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles between me and any kind of civilization. Well, except for you of course. Sorry. I'm probably rambling now. I'll just shut up and... "