The Billionaire Dragon's Secret Son (Howls Romance) Page 5

  “Say morning, Daddy,” Poppy prompted softly.

  Charlie looked up at George, studying him, before answering, “Morning… Daddy.” The word “daddy” was spoken as if it were a new, foreign word, then Charlie hid his face in Poppy’s neck once more, and whispered, “What’s a daddy?”

  Poppy’s face flushed red. “A daddy is the same as a mommy, only he’s a man.”

  “He doesn’t know what a father is?” George asked.

  “We’ve lived on our own since before Charlie could talk. It never came up,” Poppy said.

  “You lived alone? The two of you?” George asked, glimpsing a chink of information he could use.

  “Yes,” Poppy said, kissing Charlie.

  “On a mountain.” Charlie threw his arms open wide.

  George frowned at Poppy. “You were in hiding?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “I wanted Charlie to be safe.”

  “From the bad men,” George murmured, remembering Charlie’s words from last night.

  “Yes.”

  The crease in George’s brow deepened. “Was I counted among those bad men?”

  She hesitated, but then said, “Not in the same way.”

  “Then in what way?” George asked, squaring up to her, before relaxing. He did not want to come over as threatening; he didn’t want Charlie to see him as a bad man who threatened his mommy. “Of course.”

  “Of course what?” she asked defensively.

  “You knew how important the blade was.”

  “Not until after.” She shook her head. “And then it was too late.”

  “And you were afraid of what I would do to you? That is why you never came to me,” George asked, the picture clearer.

  “Not physically.” She kissed Charlie and hugged him tight. “I was afraid you might take…” Poppy didn’t finish her sentence.

  “I would never part a child from his mother,” George insisted.

  Poppy smiled weakly, hugging the child tighter. “He’s all I have.”

  “We should go downstairs and get Charlie some breakfast.” George headed for the stairs, feeling happier, lighter. Poppy had not revealed much, but it was enough. Enough for him to begin to piece the puzzle together. With the information he already held, he would make a link, and the whole mess would unravel, leaving him with the means to go after the person, or persons responsible. “I’m afraid Alfie will make you porridge.”

  “I like porridge,” Charlie admitted.

  “We have it for breakfast most mornings,” Poppy stated.

  “Unless we’ve walked to the store, and then I get chocolate flakes,” Charlie said happily. “Can we go back to the store and buy some soon, Mommy?”

  “There are stores here. Different stores,” Poppy explained. “We can go and buy some…”

  George turned to look at Poppy. “I can order some in.” He smiled at her. “You and Charlie came here for my protection. For now, that means you should stay in the house or grounds.”

  “Good idea,” Poppy readily agreed.

  “We also have a pool,” George announced.

  “Like the one in the mountains?” Charlie asked excitedly.

  “No, not like that,” Poppy replied. “But I bet this one is warmer.”

  “Good, because the Icicle Pool is brrrr, cold,” Charlie said, shaking and then giggling.

  George laughed. “Much warmer.”

  “Sir?” Alfie asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway, his face one of shock as he took in the scene before him. “I thought I heard voices. I nearly went to get my gun.”

  “No guns needed,” George insisted quickly. “This is Poppy. And this is Charlie.”

  “Are we taking in waifs and strays now?” Alfie asked suspiciously.

  “No,” George said, with a hint or warning in his voice. “Poppy and Charlie are our guests.”

  “He’s my daddy,” Charlie blurted out.

  Alfie grabbed hold of the doorframe for support. “Your what?”

  “Poppy, why don’t you take Charlie though into the kitchen, while I talk to Alfie,” George suggested.

  “Sure,” Poppy agreed. “Come on, Charlie bear, let’s go get you a drink. If that’s OK with you?” she asked Alfie.

  “Ye… Yes. Orange juice in the fridge,” Alfie said, looking at her intently as she walked by, before turning back to his boss and raising his eyebrow in question.

  George shrugged. “A surprise for me too.”

  “It’s true?” Alfie asked.

  “The boy is mine, yes,” George confirmed. “But that is classified. It stays within these four walls. Understood?”

  Alfie nodded. “Where did she come from? She didn’t come home with you last night, and I never heard anyone knocking on the door.”

  “That is a good question,” George asked. “She was in my bedroom. Last night.”

  “She got in?” Alfie’s mouth fell open. “How?” He shook his head furiously. “I never let her in. I never left the gate open.”

  “It’s OK, Alfie.” The old man needed to know the truth. “Poppy is good at getting in… Or more particularly … out of places unseen.”

  “You mean she’s the thief?” Alfie said, his hand going to his brow. “Such a long, noble bloodline… tainted.”

  “It still is noble,” George insisted. “I’m proud to call Charlie my son.”

  “She named him after your father?” Alfie asked, coming closer to George.

  “I think it’s coincidence,” George admitted. “To Poppy, I was a means to an end. I don’t think she planned to conceive my child. I don’t expect she would have given me a moment’s thought, if she had not discovered she was pregnant.”

  “And it’s taken her how many years to tell you?” Alfie asked.

  “I know, old friend, but she is here now, and I plan to make the most of it,” George confided.

  “And why is she here now?” Alfie asked.

  “Because we are close,” George gave Alfie a knowing look.

  “You think we’re close to retrieving the blade?” Alfie asked in surprise.

  “We shall see. Pieces are moving across the board. And I aim to be the last man standing,” George announced.

  “I hope you are that last man, sir, you know I do. But I also hope you can let it go… if it comes down to a choice between the blade and your family. She is your mate?” Alfie asked.

  George sighed, and nodded. “When you are growing up, you expect everything to be so much less complicated than it ever ends up being.”

  “That is the joy of life, sir. It’s why your mother gave you your name,” Alfie smiled.

  George huffed, like he had when he was a child, every time someone teased him about being named after the greatest dragon-slayer who ever lived. “She was a wise woman,” George agreed.

  “And let her be your guide now. I know the blade is a symbol of honor to your family. But family is more important than honor.”

  George slapped Alfie on the back. “I’m glad you are here to remind me of that, old friend.”

  “I owe you much, sir. I will always remember that.”

  “Does that mean you will babysit them for me?” George looked at his watch. “I have to get to the office.”

  “I will,” Alfie agreed. “Are you going without breakfast? I made your favorite.”

  “Let them eat it.” George smiled. “I hear they like porridge.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with porridge. It’s an old Scotch recipe,” Alfie said.

  George grinned as he walked past Alfie, and into the kitchen. There he found Poppy and Charlie drinking orange juice. “I have to go. Alfie will show you around. Including the pool. Stay on the grounds, please.” His words were meant to come out as a request, but they were more of a command, even to his own ears.

  “Yes, sir,” Poppy said, with a mock salute.

  “I mean it,” George stated firmly. “I’m going to make sure the security is beefed up too. Since you managed to get in wi
th a small child in tow.” He frowned. “You never did tell me how you did it.”

  “It was easy,” Charlie said.

  George cocked his head. “Really?”

  “Pretty easy,” Poppy agreed.

  “Are you going to tell me?” he asked.

  “You have security sensors spread out along the top of the walls. They are impossible to disable without setting them off.” Poppy began.

  “So you didn’t come over the wall,” George questioned.

  “No. I didn’t have the correct tools to disable them,” Poppy said matter-of-factly. “That left the gate.”

  George nodded. “The gate is still intact, and if you didn’t have the tools to disable the sensors, you wouldn’t have had the correct tools to disable the keypad.”

  “No,” Poppy agreed. “Which left only one thing to do.”

  “We sneaked in,” Charlie whispered, jumping down, and crouched down, creeping along the side of the counter.

  “You sneaked in?” George repeated.

  “Yes. When a delivery arrives, the truck is let in. It does not set off the motion sensors. They drive slowly, so we positioned ourselves behind the truck, and followed it in. When it gets to where the road bends, by the pond, we hid in the trees.”

  “Easy as that?” George asked.

  “I don’t know about easy. But simple yes.” Poppy smiled. “Don’t feel so bad. Not many people realize how these things work.”

  “It was Mommy’s job,” Charlie announced, popping up from behind the counter.

  “Yes, I suppose it was.” George nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll upgrade security. Ask Alfie if there is anything you need. I will be home around five.”

  With that, he stalked out of the kitchen.

  Chapter Nine – Poppy

  Charlie looked up at her with his big, innocent eyes. “He didn’t say goodbye.”

  “I think he’s real busy,” Poppy said.

  “Manners cost nothing, that is what you always say,” Charlie returned.

  “That is true, young man.” The older man had entered the kitchen and walked across to the stove. “Sometimes even grown-ups forget their manners.”

  “It’s true,” Poppy agreed. “But that does not mean you can.”

  She lifted Charlie up into her arms. “I guess I’ll just have to have that goodbye kiss,” she teased.

  Charlie kissed her noisily on the cheek, and then hung his arms around her neck. “But you aren’t going anywhere, are you, Mommy?”

  “Nope,” she promised. “Never, Charlie bear.”

  “Why don’t you two sit down, and I’ll ladle some porridge out for you.” Alfie fetched two bowls and set them down on the table.

  “What about you, Alfie?” Poppy asked.

  “I’ve eaten already.”

  “You have to eat some too,” Charlie announced. “Otherwise, it will be all wrong. Since Daddy isn’t here.”

  “What will be all wrong?” Poppy asked, her stomach growling at the smell of the warm porridge.

  “We can’t be the three bears,” Charlie announced. “You know… Since Teddy isn’t here.”Charlie’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you think the bad men hurt Teddy?”

  “No, no one could hurt Teddy,” Poppy said firmly. “And one day, I promise I’ll go and get him.”

  “You promise?” Charlie asked.

  “I do.”

  Charlie’s face broke out into a smile. “But you still need to eat with us, Alfie.”

  “Very well, young master,” Alfie said.

  Charlie giggled. “I’m not a young master.”

  “You will be one day.” Alfie set another bowl down and ladled porridge into it.

  “Why?” Charlie asked.

  “Blow on it,” Poppy warned as he scooped a spoonful up and was about to eat it. “It’s steaming.”

  Charlie blew on it, and then put the spoon in his mouth. He was taking this all in his stride. He had only ever really known the cabin on the mountain, and here he was sitting in the dragon’s den, eating porridge, chatting to a stranger.

  “You are the firstborn son of George Lancaster.” Alfie looked at Poppy, studying her. She could read his mind: it said, or so this woman says.

  “What does that mean?” Charlie asked.

  “It means that you are the oldest child, and that means you get to own all of this one day.”

  “That isn’t why we came,” Poppy insisted quickly.

  “That has nothing to do with me,” Alfie said. “All I care about is that you treat George with more respect than you did at your last meeting.”

  “Our last meeting?” Poppy put her spoon in her bowl. “Our last meeting was a long time ago.”

  “Which brings me to my next point…”

  “Why didn’t I tell George about Charlie?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “You know George better than anyone else alive, I’m assuming?” Poppy asked.

  Alfie inclined his head. “Yes. That is a true statement of fact. At least for now.”

  “At least for now?” Poppy asked with a frown.

  “You are the mother of his child. His mate. That means that you are the one for him.”

  “The one for him?” Poppy did not follow. “Listen, Alfie. We got together by pure chance.”

  “There is no such thing as pure chance,” Alfie insisted. “You and he were meant to be together.”

  “So you think I was supposed to steal from him?” Poppy asked.

  “You stole something, Mommy?” Charlie asked with disbelief.

  “I did,” Poppy admitted. “It was wrong, which is why I tell you never to steal. It makes people unhappy.”

  “Did it make you unhappy?” Charlie asked.

  “Sort of…” Poppy wasn’t sure about the answer to that one. If she had never stolen the blade, she would never have met George, and she would never have given birth to a beautiful son named Charlie. She covered his hand with hers. “But I’m happy I met your Daddy that night.”

  “Because of fate,” Alfie said, and ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, for which Poppy was grateful; it gave her time to put her thoughts in order. Not for the first time in the last four days, had Poppy had to rearrange the way she looked at her life.

  Was Alfie right, was fate at play here? If so, did she blame fate for everything that led her up to this point in time? The death of her parents, the promise she felt compelled to fulfill. The theft of the Heartsfire Blade, sleeping with George, conceiving Charlie. The list went on and on. But to blame fate was to let herself and Brax off the hook, and that she was not ready to do.

  “Shall I wash the bowls?” Poppy asked, getting up from her chair when they had all finished.

  “No, that’s my job,” Alfie insisted.

  “Well, since we are going to make more work, I insist we help in some way. Charlie is used to doing chores,” Poppy said.

  “Is he? Sounds like you are a mother who instills the best qualities in a young man,” Alfie said kindly.

  “I don’t know about that, I’m sure Charlie would much rather spend his time playing. But where we lived before, let’s just say Charlie understood that we had to work together to stay alive.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much fun,” Alfie said.

  “It was the best fun,” Charlie insisted. “Mommy let me help her chop wood. And then I carried it into the house and we counted how many logs would fit in the basket by the fire.”

  “Ahh, an education while you work.” Alfie smiled down at Charlie. “You look like your father did at your age.”

  “You knew George when he was Charlie’s age?” Poppy asked.

  “No. But there is a painting of him. It’s in the dining room. Do you want to see it?” Alfie asked, drying his hands and then leaving the half-washed dishes and leading them out of the kitchen.

  The mansion was so big compared to their small cabin. A child could easily get lost in the place. As they walked, Charlie looked into the rooms they pa
ssed. An occasional ohh escaped him as he looked at all the open space. Their cabin could easily have fit into the whole of the entrance hall, with room to spare.

  “Why does one man need so much space?” Poppy asked.

  “He doesn’t, not really. But size is important when it comes to status,” Alfie said.

  “He lives here because it makes him look important?” Poppy asked.

  “Yes,” Alfie admitted. He opened a door leading off the hallway and let them inside before he added, “I know you will judge him for that. But you need to understand what happened when you stole the dagger.”

  Poppy turned to Alfie, hating that this kept getting dredged up in front of Charlie, but knew she deserved all the shame it brought down on her. “Tell me.”

  “The Heartsfire Blade was the symbol of power for the clan.”

  “The clan?” Poppy asked.

  “Dragons belong to a clan. Each clan has its ancient symbols of power.”

  “The Heartsfire Blade.”

  “Yes. It is imbued with magic. It is one of a few weapons that can pierce the hide of a dragon.”

  “Magic? Like real magic?” Charlie asked excitedly.

  “Yes.” Alfie nodded, and pointed to a painting of a man who had a keen resemblance to George. The man looked down on them with a stern face; in his hand was the jeweled dagger Poppy had stolen from George that night.

  “And because the Heartsfire Blade was stolen, it weakened George’s position in the clan.”

  “More than that. It weakened the clan’s position with the other clans.”

  “Other clans. More dragons?” Poppy asked nervously. “And they are real dragons?”

  Alfie nodded.

  “Are you a real dragon?” Charlie asked excitedly.

  “Not me, no. But your father saved my life long ago, and so I swore to serve him.” He pointed to another painting of a boy in his teens.

  “That’s my daddy?” Charlie asked.

  “It is.” Alfie went closer. “See the resemblance in your eyes?”

  Charlie looked closer, and then held up his arms to Alfie. “Can you lift me up, please?”

  “I can.” The old man bent down and lifted Charlie up so that he could get a better look at the man who was a complete stranger to him, but who was his daddy. A daddy who was a dragon.

  Poppy still struggled with the very idea of it. Let alone the thought that her son was a dragon too. A dragon who was part of a clan, who was weakened because of her actions.