Southern Fried Dragon

by Nancy Lee Badger

  Dru grabbed an earthenware pitcher, pushed through the door, and entered the smoky tavern. Two men chewed on pipe stems. The others in the group shoveled Maggie’s fresh-baked bread into their smiling mouths.

  Are they smiling at me?

  Six soldiers peered at her from above their smirks as she walked toward them. Muted voices echoed easily since no other patrons filled the remaining tables. The unusual dilemma Maggie had mentioned. Happily, her employer was not in evidence, either.

  “Cider?” she asked, hefting the pitcher.

  “Cider for me,” one of the men said with a sly smile, “though something even sweeter would make my day.”

  Is he staring at my mouth?

  If the young, red haired soldier meant his answer to amuse her, he’d failed. Dru stiffened her stance and waited for a true decision from her customers.

  Shaw sat quietly in the far corner, a frown marring his quiet good looks. Her knees wobbled as she gazed at his long, straight nose, square jaw, and clean-shaven cheekbones. When he’d kissed her a week ago, his evening beard left her sensitive human skin rough and red. Was this the man whose image filled her nights? Whose remembered intimacies made her body cry out for more?

  He focused on her face as well until the sweet-talking soldier laid a palm against her hip. Shaw stood, but Dru diffused the moment by pouring cider into the offender’s lap.

  “Clumsy whore,” he yelled, jumping to his feet and knocking his chair to the floor. The dining hall quieted.

  Dru stepped back, but not in fear. Her eyelashes swept nearly closed and her breath heated as anger rose. Danger lurked, and if the stupid man knew how close she’d come to burning him to a crisp where he stood, he would have kept his dirty accusations to himself.

  Turning, Dru slammed the pitcher on the table. Cider sloshed over the side, soaking the loaves of bread. Heads turned and voices rose, yet Shaw said nothing. Forcing her dragon temper to calm, she marched into the kitchen and out the back door. Maggie called her name as she passed, but Dru didn’t stop walking until she’d stomped through the empty alley and stood on the docks.

  The river lay below her, awash in sunlight. Salt-laced spray rose as gentle waves rolled beneath the pier. Seabirds dipped and rose, making her stomach growl. Rubbing her hands together, she lifted her face to the rising sun. Pain and self-loathing, amid such beauty, was not to be borne.

  They were stupid soldiers who had it all wrong. She was the furthest thing from a whore, though she had to admit she’d kissed a human male. So what? Why not kiss a handsome soldier?

  Eagerness to see what all the fuss is about spurs me on.

  With no companion on this continent nor back in Scotland, finding love and a mate left her little choice but humans.

  She gazed at the blue sky tinged with pink and sighed, “I want to fly.”

  “When you kiss me, I feel like I can fly.”

  Dru shrieked, and spun around. Tripping over a fisherman’s creel, she fell backwards, arms flailing as they searched for purchase. Two large hands grabbed her waist and settled her on her feet. Still in shock, she focused on Shaw’s handsome face, his expressive brows arched in concern. Why did he have to follow her, and in broad daylight?

  She glanced behind him, toward the inn. “Being seen with me will give yer friends more fodder to spew more lies.”

  He had the decency to blush; curse beneath his breath; and step back. Turning away, he kicked a stone into the inlet. While tiny circles spread out across the murky water, Dru rubbed her hands up and down her suddenly chilled arms. At times like this, she missed her heavy scales and the leathery wings she longed to wrap around her body.

  “I made a mistake. When I returned to the boat that night, my friends asked me what put the smile on my face. I told them. Forgive me?”

  “How dare ye share our special moment with others?” Dru glared at him, then was instantly sorry for the anger lacing her words. Was it wrong to believe that passion shared between two people should stay private?

  “You think kissing me was special?” Laughter crinkled his mouth.

  His annoying grin made Dru sputter to explain. “That is not what I meant and ye know it. Unmarried women are held to a higher standard than men.” Human women, that is. Dru could only hope her employer had not overheard the other soldier’s lies.

  Shaw kept smiling.

  “Ye took liberties, Lieutenant, and I won’t have ye giving other fellas ideas.” Her throat clogged with pain. Shaw had done something unforgivable by sharing, as evidenced by how his fellow soldier had treated her in the tavern.

  “No one had better touch you again,” he growled.

  Dru hesitated, then remembered he’d wronged her. He had no claim to her. “I do not go around letting strangers take advantage. I should have held my ground against ye, but ye aided me with those drunkards, so I thanked ye.”

  “I saved you. No more, no less, and did not seek a reward, but I discovered I could not resist the urge to kiss you. I find I want to kiss you again.”

  Dru stared up at him. The look she’d seen that night, just before he lowered his mouth and kissed her senseless, had returned. His silvery eyes blazed bright in daylight, and the grin had left his mouth.

  Unable to think of a response, and not wanting to fall under his spell again, she walked away. Away from him, the dock, and the sunlight. A sudden urge to return to the safety of the kitchen quickened her steps.

  “Wait.”

  “Nay.” She kept walking. His shadow hovered at her side, blocking the sunlight, chilling her to her dragon core. Did he plan to follow her inside? Mistress Cumberland would never accept such an indiscretion. “Leave me be.”

  “Miss Little, I cannot leave you. Not after what my so-called friend called you. I miss your touch. I have not slept because your kisses fill my dreams. Sometimes I feel as if I am flying, but then...”

  Dru’s steps slowed until she halted. He stood so close she could see flecks of gold circling his silver-gray eyes. When he would not meet her gaze, concern hit her.

  “What happens then?” she whispered.

  “I wake up screaming.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Shaw regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Concern filled Miss Little’s face, furrowing her forehead. She stepped back. Why had he mentioned his nightmare to the woman? A stranger he met and kissed one night? Instead, he'd change the subject and explain how his visits might be coming to an end. Shaw wanted to make the most of today.

  To get to know her, he kept telling himself.

  However, the nightmares grew worse each night. Something involving Miss Little would soon escalate. He could feel it in his gut. Or, the rumors of a coming war could be fueling his thoughts.

  If he could only feel her lips beneath his, and press his body close to hers, then he might sleep again.

  “I am sorry this visit has started off on the wrong foot.”

  “Aye. Every woman wants to be courted by a man after his friend calls her a whore.”

  Dru’s mouth curved up slightly. Dare she laugh at him? The other soldier had certainly put a damper on his afternoon. He had better things to do then argue the fact with her.

  “What I mean is, let us not waste time arguing. My visits to town could soon stop. I might not see you again—”

  “Why?”

  Shaw’s ego rose to new heights at the worry echoing in her voice. She sounded like she’d miss him. Hope made his voice rise as he continued. “A conflict between the northern states and the southern plantation owners has been brewing for some time.”

  “Aye. Maggie talks about it daily. She has family in New Hampshire.”

  “Battles could erupt. Since Charleston is as southern as a city can get, and hosting a convention where secession will be discussed, that is a distinct possibility.”

  “How do ye know such a thing will happen?”

  “From newspapers, and from the look on peoples’ faces. I won’t be surprised if the first conflict
erupts right here.”

  Shaw had a right to be nervous. He’d heard more than rumors. Military strategists continuously relayed information about the goings on of the plantation holders and their threats of secession. If the conflict boiled over, his soldiers would wind up in the middle.

  “Well, keep safe. If ye want to visit me while doing so, I will not send ye away.”

  Her whispered invitation rolled through him like thunder on a spring day. His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands yearned to pull her close. Her scent—cinnamon and apples—invaded his senses and reminded him of the night they met in the alley, hidden in shadows as he kissed her thoroughly.

  “One rule.”

  “Anything, Miss Little.” He choked out the words. His entire body vibrated with hope. She wanted to see him again, and soon?

  “Do not return with those men.”

  “Done,” he answered, then removed his glove, grabbed her hand, and shook. He would not mistreat her again, and he certainly wouldn’t allow others to do so.

  She wants to see me, was all he could think when she didn’t pull away. Joy spread through his belly like wildfire. Still holding his hand, she turned and strolled toward the alley. Her cool skin ignited his passion once more. Shaw resisted the urge to pull her into his arms in broad daylight, an action she would detest.

  She wanted to see him even after he’d kissed her in the alleyway, after the drunken sailors limped away? The rumored conflict had better stay a rumor. Nothing could keep him away.

  That’s not true and you know it. He was a soldier. An officer. A leader of men on the brink of possible civil war.

  And here I stand wasting precious time.

  The last time he came to town, important errands kept him from enjoying nothing but a quick pint of ale before he had to hurry back to the fort. He’d bought a loaf of bread from an old slave shivering in a doorway, then marched toward the docks when he’d heard the scuffle and saw Miss Little pinned to the ground, kicking and thrashing. He could only describe what came over him as an uncontrollable need to kill. Luckily for them, he’d brandished bread and not his sword.

  At first, Miss Little acted embarrassed that someone would come to her rescue. Lucky for him, she let him kiss her. After he’d helped her with the heavy bag of flour, he enjoyed another stolen kiss. She hadn’t thrown herself at him like a wanton, yet he used her as such.

  She should never want to see the likes of me, but she does.

  As long as she forgets about his flying nightmare, they could move on. He wanted nothing more than to get her into bed. With war looming, time was their enemy.

  * * * * *

  Dru stared at the man at war with himself. He’d ignored the subject of flying, instead filling her head with talk of a possible war between countrymen. How absurd, or maybe not. Clan wars had erupted throughout Scotland’s history. Could such a war here be any different?

  No conflict brewed in the alley today, except inside her. The urge to kiss him battled with the need for him to release her hand. He must stop touching her before she melted on the spot.

  “Why would flying make you afraid?” She loved to fly. The flavors on the wind, the coolness of the sea air, the freedom.

  He would not look her in the eye. She snatched her hand out of his grasp as if burned by dragon fire. “Answer me, Lieutenant.”

  “So formal?” Shaw whispered.

  He reached for her once more, but she casually hid both hands in her apron pockets. “Do not touch me, sir. I decline to address you informally in public. One might think we are betrothed.”

  He paled.

  She hid her smile. Dru knew a man’s initial reaction to any declaration of marriage would stop him in his tracks. Young human males were the same everywhere, and she would not stand here and take his ill-treatment, no matter how enjoyable.

  Dru resumed her pacing and strode closer to the kitchen door. A low growl made her falter. Shaw pulled her behind a pallet piled high with sackcloths of milled flour and new potatoes. The pile reached above their heads, cocooning them in a shadowy corner of the back lane.

  “I need you,” he said as his mouth pressed against her lips. When he wrapped his arms around her, encapsulating her inside his heat, she melted.

  Everything she’d ever wanted, she found in his touch. He epitomized happiness, love, and a promise of a future. His neediness sent her reeling, and she broke contact with his devilish mouth.

  “Are ye teasing me, sir?” Taunting her with pleasure was more like it. The thought of marriage certainly held no appeal in his eyes.

  Why had she brought up marriage? They’d met once under unusual circumstances, and had shared a kiss or two that lasted forever, in her opinion. Sexual gratification between dragons lasted mere seconds.

  “I will not be used,” she added. No sense playing games with a man she might not see again. The thought disturbed her, and she gazed into his eyes. Want, need, and desire glinted back. Was it enough?

  “Let me kiss you, sweetheart. I’ve hungered for your taste since we first met.”

  “And kissed, aye?” she asked.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Aye.”

  Worry filled her. Might the lieutenant use her only for sexual enjoyment? Honestly, Dru found nothing wrong with such a scenario, if they kept their encounter secret. Humans held a woman’s reputation in high regard.

  However, no one could see them, behind the high stack of supplies. The kitchen door was closed tight, the alley empty. She smiled against his mouth. When had she reached up and kissed him back? Dru wanted him. She tasted his passion as her heart beat wildly beneath her sensitive breasts. She could hardly breathe, and her legs wobbled like the first time she shifted into human form.

  Shaw pulled his mouth away. When she groaned, he smiled with the foolish, crooked grin she was beginning to love. She sighed. When his hand roamed possessively up over the curve of her waist, and paused beneath her right breast, she trembled with anticipation.

  What more would she feel if they stripped their bodies of the scratchy coverings and laid naked upon her bed? The idea warmed her until she worried her next exhale would be flames instead of human’s breath. She looked into his eyes. Dru bit her lower lip. She could see the passion filling her heart reflected in his gaze. She pressed her lips lightly against his.

  “Come to my room,” she whispered against his mouth. His gray eyes widened. He shook his head and lowered his arms. She missed the heat of his caress immediately.

  “Why not?”

  “You are too good for me.”

  “Goes without saying, but I want you inside me, and this moment is as good as any.” She was teasing him. Watching to see how far he’d go, to lie with a perfect stranger. A disreputable man would ask her to show him the way to her room.

  The shock on his pale face at her indecent request was gratifying.

  “I must refuse, Miss Little.”

  “Then, I’ll say goodnight.” She turned, hurried up the steps, entered the kitchen, and closed the door behind her. It was the hardest thing she’d done since flying away from her native Scotland.

  CHAPTER 5

  The next seven days all started similarly, yet Dru’s anticipation at seeing Shaw again, kept her humming while she went about her duties. His polite behavior the last time they spoke, filled her with the euphoria of joy, tempered by a desire that heated her cheeks and made her body ache.

  Her nipples peaked, and pressed against the coarse linen of her day gown. She couldn’t stop thinking of him. The taste of his mouth, the hardness of his body, the warmth of his hands had made her yearn for more.

  Each time she brought food or drink into the tavern, she searched the room for Shaw and his men. The lunch crowd thinned, yet neither Shaw nor his fellow soldiers arrived. Had the rumors of the secession kept them away? Would she never see him again?

  Dru washed the batter from her hands and returned to poke the chicken frying in a pot. The scent of crisping flesh and buttermilk was beco
ming one of her favorite aromas. She’d spent little time flying about the harbor in search of birds. Why bother when Maggie had taught her how to fry chicken parts? Dru hadn’t gone hungry since.

  She hungered for something better, today. The urge to kiss Shaw Stenhouse made her giddy, yet he hadn’t stopped in at the tavern for his noon meal. Was the regiment sticking close to their fort? Had his commander forced him to stop visiting Charleston? Would Dru ever see him again?

  “Dru! The biscuits!”

  Maggie’s shrill voice brought Dru back to her senses, and a burning smell wafted through the kitchen. She grabbed a cloth, then pulled a tray of blackened biscuits from the heat.

  Maggie opened the door to the alley and pointed. “I’ll watch the chicken.”

  “Sorry,” Dru whispered as she strode down the steps and dumped the biscuits beside the wall. “A feast for the birds and rats, at least.”

  She leaned against the wall, cursing beneath her breath. She’d lost all sense of time thinking about a man and had let the biscuits burn.

  “A loud sigh. I heard it all the way from the dock. Something burning?”

  “Shaw!” She pushed from the wall, and dropped the hot tray. “You came back.”

  “I couldn’t stay away.”

  Dru glanced at the closed kitchen door, then back to Shaw. She dropped the cloth at her feet, stepped over the hot tray, and pulled him yards away from the burnt food. His scent finally replaced the acrid aroma, filling her with unbound happiness.

  “I thought our latest conversation shocked you.”

  “I admit your invitation left me stunned. After returning to the fort, and my lonely bed, I could not stop thinking about you. I have kicked myself ever since.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “I should have taken you up on your most delicious offer.”

  “To make love?”

  “Yes.”

  “And, now?”

  “I find my conscience is at war with my body.”