Dragon Burn

by Donna Grant

  Sebastian wasn’t fool enough to believe Ulrik hadn’t done a few of the foul incidents, but then who could blame Ulrik after being stripped of his magic and banished from Dreagan, cursed to walk as a human, and never shift into a dragon again?

  His thoughts came to a halt when Sebastian’s gaze locked on his target, Gianna Santini, who walked through the glass doors of the building. Sebastian noted the black Louis Vuitton briefcase in her hand and an Yves Saint Laurent clutch in the other. She handed the briefcase to a man standing next to a black car. After a few words, she crossed the street.

  He waited until the car drove away before he followed her at a slow pace. Her pale pink coat, as well as her red hair pulled back in a slick bun, was easy to spot through the dozens of people that separated them.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t for her to cross a rii, one of the many small canals, by an ornate bridge. Almost immediately she climbed into a topetta.

  His strides lengthened after he traversed the bridge and hailed one of the historic wooden boats for himself. He quickly handed the driver a wad of bills and said, “Private, per favore,” as others tried to board.

  The driver waved the people away and pushed out into the water. Sebastian sat, but he leaned forward, arms on his legs as he watched Gianna closely.

  “Follow them,” he told the driver and pointed to the topetta ahead of them.

  The driver nodded. “Si.”

  Not once did Gianna look behind her. Why would she? Unless she suspected she was being followed. Sebastian knew the facts about her:

  -Born August 1st and raised in New York.

  -Married three years to a native Italian, but divorced for five years.

  -Took the job in Venice a month after her divorce.

  -Was involved with several charities around Venice, but always attended the events alone.

  -Never had a presence on any online dating service.

  -Favorite color was pink.

  -Loved opera and the ballet, based on the box she kept at both events.

  -Returned to New York once a year in November for the American celebration of Thanksgiving.

  -The Pomeranian she brought with her to Italy had died a year earlier.

  All in all, there was nothing out of the ordinary about her. But everyone had secrets. He just had to find out what Gianna’s were so he could then get the rest of the information he sought.

  The man slowed and waited until Gianna disembarked from her boat before pulling up. Sebastian gave his driver a smile as he exited and pursued his target.

  The edges of Gianna’s coat billowed around her knees when the wind picked up. Not one hair moved out of place. She stopped before a pub and entered. Surprised, he followed her inside. The bar was upscale and obviously catered to a high-end clientele. The ultra-modern décor was just to his tastes.

  While Gianna removed her jacket and sat on one of the square white stools at the bar, he opted for one of the small sofas. The place was filling up quickly with a mix of locals and tourists because of the bar’s prime location next to a canal.

  He ordered a whisky and let thirty minutes pass as he observed Gianna. One man approached her, and she quickly sent him away. Another tried to buy her a drink, but she declined it. A couple of others failed to get her attention.

  The more Sebastian watched, the more he realized she tensed any time a man came near. It probably harkened back to her divorce. There was nothing in the facts Ryder sent him about her having a lover. A single Gianna was a much easier target.

  He was going to have to make his move decisively. There could be no room for error. He had only one shot—and it had to be perfect.

  The moment came when every seat but the stool on her left was taken. He rose and started toward it. His gaze landed on a man about to take it. After a brief stare down, the man quickly turned and walked the other way.

  Sebastian climbed onto the stool and ignored both Gianna and the woman on the other side of him. He held his empty glass up to the bartender before setting it down.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gianna look his way, so he gave her a nod in greeting, but didn’t try to talk to her. Her shoulders relaxed and she went back to staring at her glass of red wine.

  Through the mirror behind the bar, he studied her. It was her hair, a deep, vibrant red that drew so much attention, which went in direct contrast to the Ice Queen attitude she wore like a prize mantle.

  She had flawless skin the color of cream. Red brows arched gently over large eyes the color of sparkling emeralds. Lips, wide and lusciously full, drew his gaze.

  The fingers of her left hand toyed with the silver Chanel stud earrings. The white silk shirt dipped into a V at her chest and hung seductively over her breasts before tucking into a pink plaid tweed skirt. He leaned back and let his eyes travel down her shapely calves to the soft pink stilettos.

  Sebastian accepted his whisky and went back to looking at her through the mirror. Gianna kept her eyes down, letting everyone know she wasn’t interested in conversation. Why come to a bar then? She was a paradox, and to his delight, he discovered he wanted to peel back every layer to learn what made her tick.

  It was too bad she most likely worked for the enemy, because she was someone who appeared to be interesting. Mostly because he never found a puzzle he couldn’t solve. And Gianna Santini was definitely a puzzle.

  Sebastian saw his chance and leaned toward her. “Can you pass me the nuts, please?”

  She glanced at him before handing him the bowl. “How did you know I spoke English?”

  “I took a gamble,” he replied with a grin.

  She didn’t return his smile. When her gaze looked away, he began coming up with another way to talk to her. Then he decided on another tactic.

  He tossed back his drink, laid some money on the bar, and walked out.

  Chapter Two

  Another long day finished with several emergencies handled. It was a specialty of hers, and one of the main reasons she’d gotten the job. Although Gianna would’ve done just about anything to get out of New York and begin a new life.

  That’s what had been offered to her in Venice. Her Italian heritage helped to ease her into living in another country. There were many things she missed about America, but she’d found a certain contentment—perhaps even happiness—in Venice.

  Her first week in the city she’d found the popular bar, and she returned each evening for a drink. Most people visited such a place in order to meet others. Not her. She went because she liked the atmosphere and the view. It was nice to get a glass of wine before she headed home and did more work.

  After she entered the tavern, she came to a halt when she saw the long, golden brown hair of the mystery man from the previous night sitting at the bar. He was chatting with the bartender and enjoying a whisky.

  Her eyes took in the white button-down shirt that stretched tight over his wide back. His hair brushed against his shoulders as he spoke. He combed his fingers through it to shove it away from his face. She followed his hand, mesmerized, and spotted a silver ring. The previous night she’d watched the way his large hand had held the glass firmly, but at the same time gently.

  Gianna blinked, realizing she’d been standing and staring. She gave her coat to a waitress before she made her way to the bar and chose a stool far from the Scot.

  As her usual order was placed in front of her, she mulled over the prior night and how she’d almost asked the stranger what he was doing in Italy. His rich, deep brogue was far different than any she normally heard. It stood out, making her take notice of him.

  And she wasn’t the only one. There wasn’t a woman in the place then—or now—who wasn’t staring at him with lust and need in her eyes. Though he didn’t seem to notice. He was kind to others, but didn’t appear to be there to find a one-night stand.

  Gianna wasn’t blind to his appeal. She looked up into the mirror at him. His eyes were the first thing that drew her. They were deep
and catastrophic—a vivid, lustrous golden-orange color. They shimmered with humor—and something darker, something just beneath the surface that he kept carefully hidden.

  The fact she was curious about it surprised her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had intrigued her enough that she gave him a second look.

  The stranger’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at something. Everyone was drawn to him, hanging on his every word. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw that gave him a devilishly handsome look. Strong brows arched over eyes with insanely thick lashes. His lips were wide, thin, and…seductive.

  Her gaze shifted lower to his neck, where his strength could be seen in the twining cords of muscle. There was no doubt the tall stranger was appealing in so many ways that even she found herself enticed by him.

  She lifted her eyes in the mirror and found him staring at her. He bowed his head, a half-smile tilting his lips. She returned his nod and lowered her gaze to her wine, embarrassed to be caught ogling him.

  Gianna half expected him to move closer and attempt to talk, but he did neither. In fact, he ignored her. It was a relief.

  Wasn’t it?

  She had no time or inclination for a dalliance of any sort. Yet she couldn’t help but admit there was a slight irrational annoyance that he wasn’t interested. She gave herself an inward shake. It saved her rebuffing his advances, and she was thankful for that.

  Yet…the ease with which he spoke to everyone, including the bartenders, made it apparent that while she might come to the bar every night, she hadn’t gotten to know anyone—or allowed them to know her. She kept everyone at a distance, but she hadn’t always been that way.

  Once she finished her wine, she paid and retrieved her coat. She walked outside to find the threat of rain that had hung over them most of the day had come to fruition. The drizzle was just enough to be an irritation. Huddling within her jacket, she hurriedly made her way to the boats.

  She waved her hand when she saw a topetta about to depart. “Wait!” she called.

  But the boat was gone by the time she arrived. She turned to see if there was another when her ankle twisted and she heard something snap. She felt herself falling, pitching toward the water, and flailed her arms in an attempt to steady herself.

  Suddenly, she felt strong arms grab her, yanking her up and against a hard chest. Blinking against the rain, she raised her gaze to discover the Scot’s face.

  He was smiling down at her. Then he said in his deep brogue, “That was a close one, lass.”

  She nodded, unable to find words.

  “Looks like you broke a heel.”

  What? Her mind was too muddled to make sense of his words. Then she lifted her feet and saw one heel of her favorite Valentinos was barely hanging on. “Oh.”

  “Another topetta is coming.”

  She swallowed, all too aware of how her arms had instinctively gone around his neck where, even now, she clung to him. Unable to help herself, she drew in a deep breath of his woodsy scent. She should release him...but she didn’t.

  Topaz eyes studied her face. “Is that a dragon tattoo I see atop that lovely foot of yours?”

  If there were a way for Gianna to disappear, she’d have done it. Her one and only tattoo had come the day she turned eighteen and was the first of many rebellions from her parents. It was small, but not easy to hide unless she was wearing boots.

  “Yes,” she admitted. To this day she had no idea why she’d chosen a dragon instead of a heart or butterfly like her friends.

  “I like it,” he replied with a grin. “It makes you more mysterious.”

  Mysterious? Her? He must be joking. She was the most boring individual alive. Wasn’t that what her ex-husband used to say? She had no zeal, no enthusiasm.

  No passion.

  She was as dull as a rock, and she accepted that. Look where it had gotten her. She worked for one of the most influential men in the business world, and she was much more than just his assistant. She had begun running the company in Venice last year.

  “And quiet too,” the Scot said with a chuckle.

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I apologize. It’s been a long day.”

  “Aye, but you get to go shopping,” he said, jerking his chin to the shoes.

  That made her grin. “Yes, I do.”

  “Ah, so the idea of shopping makes you smile. I’ll take note of that.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. Why would he care if she smiled or not? “I’m—”

  “The boat is here,” he said over her.

  But if she thought he would set her down so she could climb aboard the topetta herself, she was sadly mistaken. Her hands gripped him tighter as he lightly stepped from shore onto the boat.

  Once on board, he set her down before he spoke to the driver in a low tone she couldn’t hear. It didn’t dawn on her what had been said until they were pulling away with others still waiting.

  When she looked at the Scot, he merely shrugged. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. He’d been chivalrous and kind, but also charming to the point that she suspected he might be flirting. But why now? Why not at the pub?

  She really should stop overanalyzing everything.

  “I’m Sebastian,” he said as he came to sit beside her. “Where should our driver take you?”

  Sebastian. An old name that seemed to suit him. It was odd, but when she looked into his eyes she thought he was much, much older than he appeared.

  He gave her a pointed look. “You still with me, lass?”

  “Sestiere Dorsoduro,” she replied.

  Sebastian gave a soft whistle. “Verra nice. I doona suppose you’ll give me your name since you know mine? I did save you from a dunk in the canal. That should count for something.”

  “Gianna. Gianna Santini,” she said, unable to look away from his eyes.

  His smile softened, becoming provocative and tempting. “A verra lovely name to go with a beautiful woman.”

  Dear God. Was that heat on her cheeks? Was she blushing? It had been years since anyone had made her blush.

  Before she could come up with some kind of lame response, he sat back, stretching his arms along the seat, and took in Venice. It had been a while since she looked at the city like a tourist.

  It was romantic and delightful, charismatic and inviting. At night, with the lights reflected off the water, it cast a quixotic spell over everything.

  “I take it by your address that you live here,” Sebastian said, glancing at her. “I can definitely see the appeal. It’s been a considerable time since I’ve seen Venice, and I doona expect I’ll be staying long enough this trip.”

  She told herself not to inquire, that she wasn’t interested. Yet her lips parted and she heard herself ask, “What brings you here? Business or pleasure?”

  He turned his head to her. “I’m beginning to think a wee bit of both.”

  Dammit. She was blushing again. What was it about him that affected her so? She didn’t like it. At all. It had to stop.

  Sebastian drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “If you doona mind me asking, how long have you lived here? I heard you speak fluent Italian, but I can hear your American accent.”

  “I spend so much of my time speaking Italian that sometimes I forget,” she admitted with a small laugh. “I’ve been here five years. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been here forever, and other times like I just arrived.”

  Now why the hell did she tell him that?

  He nodded slowly. “I’ve felt that way a few times myself. Even so, Venice seems to suit you.”

  “It’s my home. And you? Do you live in Scotland?”

  “Aye,” he replied with a wide smile. A wistfulness came over his face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  She couldn’t imagine feeling like that about a place. To love something so deeply it showed in his eyes and through his voice. “Then I hope your business doesn’t keep you away for long.”

  “I’m sure it
willna.” He stretched his legs out as the boat ambled along. “Have you ever been to Scotland?”

  “I can’t say that I have. The closest I’ve been was a three-day trip to London.”

  He quirked a brow. “When was that?”

  “Oh,” she said, thinking back. “It’s been about four years.”

  “Tell me you went there for a holiday?” he implored.

  She found herself grinning again. “Business.”

  He twisted his lips ruefully. “Well, in all honesty, you didna miss much. Now if you really want to see history and the untamed, rugged countryside, then you need to visit the Highlands.”

  “I’ll make note of that.”

  The boat slowed and she realized they had reached her neighborhood. She’d been having such a pleasant time that it went by entirely too quickly. In fact, she was almost sorry the night was coming to an end. It was the best time she’d had in…well, a long, long time.

  Despite the nice evening, she didn’t know Sebastian—or trust him. She took the driver within two blocks of her house and had him pull over.

  Sebastian exited the boat and held out his hand to help her. She took it, meeting his gaze as she disembarked. Once on solid ground, she reluctantly withdrew from his grip.

  “If you’re no’ busy, we could take a ride around Venice,” he offered.

  The fact she seriously considered it was another shock. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

  “You work on the weekend?”

  “I work all the time.”

  He leaned his head to the side and regarded her. “Life is short, lass. You should have some fun every now and again.”

  “You’re implying that I don’t?”

  He shrugged as he raised a brow. “You’re the one who said you work all the time.”

  So she had.

  “You intrigue me, Gianna Santini. A beautiful woman who sits at a bar drinking red wine alone and works all the time. It’s a shame to waste such a life.”

  “I—”

  “Doona say anything,” he said over her. “I’m going to be at the Piazza San Marco tomorrow morning before visiting the Doge’s Palace. Forget your work for a day. Come spend it with me. I’ll make it a day you willna forget.”