About Dragon Collector
Author: Minerva Howe
Word Count: 60400
Page Count (pdf): 254
ISBN: : 979-8-597671-27-7
Series: Dragon Hoard 2
Date Published: 01/26/2020
Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
Heat Rating: 4 Rainbows
File Types available: pdf, mobi, epub
This title has been removed to KU
Dragon shifter Eagan Drake knows Oliver Reaver is his mate. He’s known it since they met, when Ollie braved Eagan’s brother’s den to try to save his business partner and best friend, Devon. The problem is, Ollie is convinced that Eagan needs a dragon mate, and that he’s just an ordinary human.
Ollie loves Eagan desperately. He knows he should just leave and let Eagan find his true mate, but he keeps being drawn back to his dragon’s side. When a dangerous vampire starts to stalk Ollie at his bookshop, he finally gives in and asks Eagan if he can come home to stay.
Now, if Ollie can just stop being the king of denial, Eagan knows Ollie can give him what he wants most. All his love, and a family of his own. But will Eagan be able to convince Ollie that he’s a very special mate and let their dragons soar together?
Eagan Drake was on a mission. When he was on the hunt, he could be singularly focused, whether he was after a food source or a Lalique vase. In this case, he was hunting a very different kind of prey. One that was incredibly important to him and close to his heart.
He huffed. Really, did Marks and Reaver Antiquarian Bookstore have to be so far from a parking situation? He’d had to park three blocks away and walk, which would be no issue if he wasn’t carrying a set of Edwardian three stair library steps with a drawer as the center step.
He’d wanted a piece that converted to a chair, but that auction had slipped by without him making it out of Colorado. Chicago was quite the trip when one had his responsibilities.
Babysitting his niece was a time-consuming job every so often.
His target, one Oliver Reaver, had been avoiding coming to see Eagan’s brother Brand and Brand’s husband, Devon, who just happened to be Oliver’s business partner. In fact, he’d been avoiding them so long that Eagan was beginning to ache with it.
So Eagan was going to Ollie.
With this heavy bit of furniture.
Wooing he could do, dammit. If Brand could accomplish it, he could too. In fact, Eagan was generally considered the most civilized one among he and his brothers. People liked him. Other men found him attractive. Even Oliver had succumbed to his charms more than once.
So why was Ollie so damn difficult now? Avoiding him like the plague.
He hauled the steps up the, well, steps, and muscled them in the door of the shop, the bell ringing away overhead. Ah, there went the element of surprise. Still, a hunt was a hunt, and he would capture his intended prize soon.
“Just a moment, please. I’ll be right with you.” Ollie’s melodic voice floated up from somewhere in the stacks.
He didn’t answer. That much of an advantage he would hold on to. Besides, he was a bit disheveled, so he took the time to put himself together, smoothing his sweater vest over his shirt, making sure his auburn hair was in place.
“Hello?” He heard Oliver inhale, then whisper, “Eagan.”
“Oliver!” He peered around the corner of a shelf where Ollie had stopped, seemingly frozen as if a gorgon had stared at him. “There you are. Come say a proper hello.”
“What’s this? How are you?” Ollie looked adorably rumpled, his man bun off-center, his glasses smudged. “I missed you.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He took Ollie’s hands in his, then kissed his cheek. “I missed you too. I brought you a little something I picked up at auction. You know how I love my bargains, and this one called your name.”
The steps actually had been a steal, too, at less than fifty.
“Oh… Oh, they’re gorgeous. Come in, please. Have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?” Ollie had the most beautiful gold and green eyes.
“I would indeed. Thank you.” He couldn’t help but stare. Oliver was—his, not to put too fine a point on it. His mate, and he knew it. But Ollie was not convinced, at least not all the time, which was unutterably frustrating.
“You like the Irish Breakfast, yes? One sugar and lemon?”
“Please.” Ollie remembered. That was a very good sign. Then again, Oliver might be the most polite fellow he’d ever met. No. Eagan was going to take it as an omen of things to come.
Oliver disappeared into the little kitchenette, the sound of the kettle familiar. “Have you found anything wonderful?”
“Well, I got these for you.” Eagan chuckled when Ollie made appropriate happy noises again. “I also picked up a rotating bookshelf for Devon. One of those elaborate Victorian monstrosities. Edwardian seemed more your style.”
“Oh, he’ll be over the moon. How is Arielle? Still growing?”
“Like the proverbial weed.” He smiled at the thought of his niece, who was the most brilliant and beautiful little dragonet ever. She was stubborn, determined, and so smart.
“I need to run up and see her before she forgets who I am. I talk to Devon a few times a week, but it’s always during her nap.” Ollie brought them both a cuppa and some cookies.
“Oh, lemon cookies. How lovely.” The bookstore had two little table and chair combinations, mainly for consultations, he knew, but they sat together, shop assistant Halle waving at him as she went by, phone to her ear. “You should come up. I know you just hired someone, but perhaps when he’s had a few weeks of training.”
“Have you decided whether you’re moving to the compound or staying close to the city?” That wasn’t an answer to his question.
“I’ll keep my house here, I’m sure, but we’re all talking about our options.” There. He could be vague too. Honestly, Brand’s place was perfect for now, but if the area grew up too much, they could always build on at Tyson’s compound farther up in the mountains.
“Of course. I live upstairs, which you know. I don’t need space.”
“You know you’re welcome at my house whenever, you know. It’s not as impressive as Brand’s, but my library is well-stocked.” And his bed was huge. And empty.
“You know I can spend days lost in your house. It’s perfect as is.” The words made Eagan’s heart beat faster.
“Mmm. Well, it just gained a Limoges tea set and one very early flow blue biscuit jar.” He was very proud of both acquisitions.
“Oh, wow. That sounds lovely. You can have a fabulous tea party.” Oliver’s knee touched his. “I found you an Esterbrook pen at an estate sale. It’s upstairs.”
“Oliver! Thank you so much.” His cheeks heated with pleasure, and a curl of steam flowed from his nose.
His Ollie—because Oliver was his mate, dammit—smiled, the expression sweet. “Do you want to come and see it? I can leave Halle in charge for the afternoon…”
“I would love that.” His body went sproing! Yes, he wanted to go upstairs.