Ajax's Harpy Holiday: Dragofin Mated: Book 1 (A Dragon-Gyphon Shifter Curvy Paranormal-Fantasy-Scifi Romance Series) (Dragonfin Clan Mated) Read online

  Ajax’s Harpy Holiday

  Dragofin Mated: Book #1

  Mychal Daniels

  Wise Mind Media

  Contents

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Thank You

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Michelle Spiva for Wise Mind Media

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Summary

  Ajax’s Harpy Holiday: Dragofin Mated Book #1

  (A Dragon-Gryphon Shifter Curvy Paranormal-Fantasy-Scifi Romance Series)

  Hildegard (Hildy) Newton is a lot of things, patient and sweet isn’t one of them. They don’t fit into her life or career as a highly trained assassin. So, when a rude ridiculously gorgeous guy tries to take a pie from her at a grocery store, there’s no way she’s going to let him get away with it. Even if it is the Holiday Season.

  Not sure if she’s even human, the one thing Hildy wants, is to experience what it feels like to have a family and know the love of others. That’s not so easy when she has the ability to sprout wings and grow predator talons. Keeping it simple, Hildy wants one thing to help her experience her dream—a sweet potato pie.

  Ajax (Jax) Drake is not ready for the warrior fight he’s up against when a woman refuses to let go of his holiday pie. Intrigue and attraction drive him to push her as far as he can. When fate brings them back together, Jax counts on his dragon-blood wisdom to follow his hunch about this alluring woman.

  Fun, fights and a little frolicking ensue as these two find their Happy Harpy Holiday.

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  1

  “Take your grimy paws off my damn pie, you bully!” Hildy screamed at the brute currently tussling with her for the last sweet potato pie.

  A motorized scooter provided by the supercenter store rolled by as a rather judgmental older lady drove it. She got closer than she should to see what they fought over. When she saw the mangled box of pie, she gawked and shook her head. The mechanical squeal of the vehicle’s motor wailed its disapproval as she passed.

  This was a full-fledged battle to win. Hildy snatched the box free and cradled it like a football before the man could respond. Her reflexes were lightning fast. She had no qualms about using them and any of her other considerable attributes to get that pie from this guy. He was trying to take the pie from her.

  The nerve.

  Right here for the world to see in the bakery section of the giant supercenter, Hildegard Newton was locked in a battle of blind ambition and stubbornness with the large stranger for the last holiday sweet potato pie that everyone was clamoring about. The pie was pitiful-looking by now. Sounds of grunting effort reverberated through the tightly arranged section as they continued to tussle.

  “Ow! Really? That’s rich. You stomped on my foot. I was going to give you the pie, but now…” the large man said, pressing in with his weight to wedge himself between her body and fingers.

  She elbowed him as she bent down to envelop the pie box into the dip of her stomach. At five feet eleven inches and definitely able to pass for a heavyweight in any fighting class, Hildy took nothing from any one. She could give as good as she got. Her current situation? She was hell-bent with a singular determination on giving this guy the shaft to free her pie.

  He continued, what would be a futile attempt if she could help it, to pry her steel-shut fingers off the molested box that contained the one symbol of the holiday she hoped she could capture. There was no way this buffoon was getting out of here with her pie. Hildy wasn’t sure if she’d like sweet potato pie, but she sure as sugar wasn’t giving up the chance to find out.

  “I’ve got just as much right to this pie as you do,” he said, huffing between breaths of what she hoped was exertion. “And who are you calling a bully? I’m not the one refusing to act like a lady in public,” he said, allowing the last part of his statement to hint at how un-ladylike she must be to him.

  Using her ample hip to distance him from her fingers, Hildy gave him her best shove. Her calculation of his body placement backfired. Instead of pushing him away, her ass cheeks were planted firmly in his crotch. Evidence of their intimate predicament felt hard, thick and long. Jerking away to correct her misstep, Hildy caught his scent.

  Delicious, enticing and potent, the scent of testosterone mixed with what could become an addiction if she didn’t stop sniffing the air teased and tempted her nose. Arousal spiked, producing hardened nipples and an itch in her sex. He must have realized their rather intimate position too. Another knee-jerk reaction, this time from him, to dislodge them from this uncomfortable predicament had them snatching away from each other. Angry breaths ripped a savage path out of Hildy. Why had her temper gotten the best of her yet again?

  Startled onlookers stood around, eyes locked on the grudge match between her and this rude bastard. She regained enough composure in time to watch the ripped box of the prized pie sail over a middle aisle of deli-prepared food. As the crumpled package crashed into bottles of wine, neatly lined up on the corresponding shelves, rage at the unnecessary loss of the pie reignited her.

  Swinging at the man, he dodged, quicker than normal for a man of his size. Sure he had her by about five inches, but she could still take him, had done it hundreds of times before. Getting a good look at him, her stomach leapt. He was attractive and sexy. His footwork didn’t go unnoticed even wearing loose ugly boots, as she advanced. He was light on his feet and a fighter—like her. Still, no matter. He’d pay for ruining her holiday pie. Hildy punched, hoping her hit would connect with his way-too-trim gut. He pivoted, landing behind her. This guy was attempting to humiliate her now.

  He had to go down. Still aware of where she was, Hildy wouldn’t resort to her normal strategy. She couldn’t unleash her talons, her go-to gun was in the strong box back at her apartment and this was not the place to unleash one of her killing claws on her feet. Nope, she had to whip his ass with her bare knuckles.

  Hildy sensed more than saw the circle forming around them, as she turned and advanced again. Another miss, but this time she felt his large hand cupping her head and keeping her from him.

  “You’re going down, pretty boy.” Yep, she was pissed off. Her voice hung out in the lower part of her register. The snarl that punctuated it should be his clue to run too.

  And he just smiled.

  That was it. She ran, tackling him to the ground. She’d pin him and make him scream for mercy. That would teach him. Getting into position to comp
lete her takedown, or so she hoped because this guy was solid, a different large presence came behind her.

  This couldn’t be good. Instinct took over as she rounded, about to swing. Fighting the urge to unleash her claws, Hildy stopped short as a blue uniform loomed over her. It blocked everything else from her sight range.

  "And that's about enough.” Another set of large hands grabbed her from behind as she went up vertically in the air, feet flailing.

  It was an ambush. They were attacking her.

  "What are you doing? Get your hands off me!" she said as she fought the air still trying her hardest to make contact with the obstinate male who had refused to let go of her pie.

  "You’re so stubborn you just wouldn't let go. I would've given it to you, then you punched me!" the man said looking at her with amazement as he was restrained by another man in uniform.

  Dang it! The cops were here.

  “Right, rough up the black girl while you allow the pretty white boy over there to have it easy,” she said, knowing it could be incendiary. She was fair-skinned, but when it came down to it, black was black. Things could go south fast, depending on the situation with the law.

  "We’ll get this sorted out in the back,” the one holding her said. Then he was closer, speaking for her ears only. “And if you’d stop wiggling so much, we wouldn’t have to restrain you as much. He on the other hand,” the cop said, referring to the cute guy who had now been released and was standing there without restraint, “is behaving and acting like he has some control of his faculties. If you stop resisting us, we’ll stop restraining you. Simple.”

  Hildy was too angry to give much attention to how pained the men standing next to that guy looked. Their looks were pronounced enough to get a consideration later when she was done with this. It that guy had done something to defend himself from them, she wanted in on how to do it too. Hildy never gave up a chance to learn more techniques. Game recognized game. The cute pie guy was skilled. If he had some tricks she could use, that might be worth playing nice with him after they finished up here.

  A guy way smaller and who looked like he was a member of security for the store said, “You two—with me. To the back office, now.”

  Hildy knew this wasn’t going to end well. All she’d wanted to do was get something that would make her feel like it was holiday time. Decorations weren’t her thing and she didn’t have family, so festive food had been the answer. Hildy’s one hope was that her holiday would finally go well.

  She’d walked into the store looking for some type of way to celebrate. Determined not to spend another holiday sad and lonely even if she was alone, Hildy had made the rare trek to the supercenter to get some sort of festive food. When Hildy saw the woman put one of the prized sweet potato pies she had in her buggy back, she’d made a mad dash over to it.

  The crust had a crumbled section, but that wouldn't stop her. Hildy didn’t need a perfect pie. She needed to feel this magic of the holidays everyone else seemed to have. She needed to feel like she was human and capable of possessing the holiday spirit.

  Her fingers had been mere inches from the box that contained the imperfect pie when another large hand swooped in to grab it. Before her mind could connect to her action, she grabbed the hand of the assailant and snatched the box from him. He looked at her, really looked at her in amazement. Brooding hazel eyes with a ring of green stared at her. She didn't care.

  This was her pie, damn it. She’d gotten to it first. There was no way she’d let some guy come in at the last moment and take her pie away. This was her connection to the holiday. It was the last pie and her last chance at having her freaking warm and fuzzy holiday spirit.

  Sure, he hadn’t hit her or done anything directly to her, but his refusal to let go of that pie and then ruining it was too much. So what if she found herself attracted to him. It wasn’t like he’d paid her any attention. All he’d wanted was that stupid pie. Now in the back, sitting so close to him, heat radiated off him like a furnace. Although everything within her wanted to get a better look at him, Hildy didn’t want to chance getting into it again. He might be cute but he was still on her shit list for ruining her pie and landing her in here.

  2

  The cramped little office she’d been hauled off to was dull and dusty. Hildy sat there with her hands folded across her chest determined not to look at or say anything to this sexy guy, who sat inches away from her. Hildy continued to feel the heat emanating from him as he appeared to fume with quiet anger. She didn't care. That's what he got for trying to take a pie away from a determined woman.

  “So you’re just going to sit there and pretend like it's not your fault we're sitting here in this office?”

  “Nope, sure am not.”

  He huffed. “Unbelievable… and you’re not going to apologize for hitting me?” he asked.

  Hate to admit it, but his voice matched his appeal. It was strong, deep and fairly calm. She could easily respect it, if he hadn’t tried to take her pie, that is. Hildy tamped down the tinge of guilt creeping up at hitting him so hard. She hadn’t held back and knew he must be feeling the aftermath of her rage now.

  “No, because I didn't do anything. You were the one who tried to steal that pie from me. You ruined it, you insufferable brute.”

  "My, my, how delusional we are today."

  “Delusional? You're the one who's delusional. I'm simply stating a fact. You can't bully me as you just found out. Take that crap somewhere else, because I’m not having it. No, you’re sitting here because of what you did. I had nothing to do with the fact that you chose to fight with a lady over a pie she already had dibs on.”

  “Dibs? You were standing there looking at a lot of stuff. I knew what I wanted and went for it. I can’t help it if you were in a daze. You only decided you wanted that pie when you saw me get it.”

  “I was reaching for it, you Neanderthal… fighting with me over my pie! I’m a woman you know.”

  “You weren’t fast enough. You snooze, you lose. And, I never hit you. I wouldn’t hit a woman, no matter how much she was asking for it. You’re excessively mean, you know that, right? Stomping, kicking and punching me, was totally uncalled for. But, I never returned the attack. You should learn some manners. It was just a four-buck pie. You were way out of line.”

  “Yeah, well… you’re childish, you know that? I hope they throw the book at you.” She didn’t like how riled up this guy was making her—again.

  “It takes one to know one. And yeah, it’s your fault we’re in here. If you’d just let go and realized you were in the wrong, we wouldn’t be stuck in here.”

  “Hey, don't try to blame anything on me because it's not my fault that your actions landed you here. I'm grown enough to accept when I've done something. You can learn a lesson from that." There, she’d regained enough of her composure to respond like a sane adult.

  The door swung open and the two men in police uniforms entered the tiny dingy room. Hildy gave them a quick once over and concluded she had no feelings, one way or the other, for them. They came in and scowled at the two of them. The older of the two, with rust-colored hair, grimaced as he looked between them. Guess it was time to get this show going. He had the threat level of a gingerbread cookie, if she had to rank it.

  "I can't believe you two were fighting over a pie in the middle of the store. You were in front of everyone, including children.” He stared at them as if trying to infuse guilt or embarrassment.

  Hildy couldn’t care less what he thought. She wanted to get out of here and find another pie to have her holiday before the stores closed. He continued to eye them. She’d play nice for now.

  Uncrossing her arms to show him how much his act was not affecting her, Hildy sat up a little straighter. Then she allowed a little bit of a smile to lift the corners of her mouth. The officer blinked, her actions clearly throwing him off. Just as she thought. His interrogation skills were sorely lacking. Yep, she could do better with the flu and a one hundred and
five-degree fever.

  The other officer came in and sat down at the desk with papers in hand. He made a great show of shuffling them; possibly attempting to get the two of them to be a little more nervous. It wasn’t working. She could sense the cute guy’s agitation, growing by the second at this Barney Fife show.

  These guys were lightweights. Time to get out of here.

  Hildy looked over at the guy sitting next to her. She knew he was pissed but his demeanor portrayed him as calm as she was. What was his deal? She found herself running possible ideas of who he was and what he did—besides fight. He wasn't flinching or getting agitated anymore. Instead, he was as calm as could be.

  Intriguing.

  A quick look at a hand he had resting on his lap didn’t show signs of any type of profession. Sure, it was strong, large with long fingers that conveyed power. Other than that, she couldn’t readily pick up any other clues about him. His jeans fit just right, not too tight and not too loose. His t-shirt beneath a flannel shirt showed he had some sense of dress. And his hair was a deep mahogany brown, full of waves and thickness.

  She changed her previous assessment of his ability to dress like he had some sense when she caught sight of the God-awful set of silicone rubber galoshes he wore. It wasn’t raining and they were the kind that could lace up like boots. Except he hadn’t lace them up. What sort of sloppy mess was he into? He might be just as crazy as he was fine and gorgeous. Hildy would watch her back with him. She continued to take in what she could out of her periphery until the original officer’s voice cut through the small office.

  “Since it's the holiday season and the store doesn't want the unnecessary publicity, they’re not going to press charges. But, you two must leave the store immediately without incident. Do you understand me?” the older rusty haired man asked still attempting to look menacing. Yep, Barney Fife right here in the flesh.