by Robin Wirth
Dragon’s Eye
decency to let me finish that paragraph. Oh, I
can’t believe this!”
With a playful grin, Lance held the book
high above his head—well out of Felicity’s
insistent reach—as he said, “Oh no, my dear, I
think not. We have been sitting here doing
nothing for long enough.”
“I’ll have you know that I have been
doing something, unlike you,” she grumbled.
“You’re the one who has been asleep all
morning, while I was learning more about our
destination and the dragoness we’re about to
face.”
“Up, up, up, Miss Lake,” he insisted as
he took her hands in his free one to gently bring
her to her feet. “Do you not feel the wind in your
hair, Felicity? Do you not smell the scent of the
ocean breeze drifting in to play about? Surely it
must entice you to enjoy its fragrance. Come to
the rail with me, my dear girl, so we can have a
better look at the sea.”
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“But Lance—” Felicity began, hopping
from one foot to the other as she leaned against
his chest in an attempt to snatch the book away
from him. His hand came up about her waist to
make certain she did not lose her balance.
“Felicity, you must desist climbing up
my anatomy before I have to jump into the water
to cool off,” he teased her as he set her back onto
her feet. Felicity’s cheeks began to flame as she
recalled what he had said earlier about why men
wanted to take cold showers, and she had to
suppress some heat of her own as a result.
“Do you never do anything but read and
write and file things away where they belong?”
he wanted to know. “Don’t you ever want to
actually see the things you’ve been reading
about firsthand?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she
protested. “I do so see things—” then her voice
faltered, and after a brief pause during which he
cast her a dubious, albeit extremely sexy, stare,
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she fidgeted for a moment or two before she
amended, “Okay, fine, I don’t. So sue me.”
“No, my dear, I would not go quite that
far,” he chuckled dryly. “But I refuse to return
this little tome until you’ve seen at least three
new things that you’ve never laid eyes on
outside of a book.”
“You can’t be serious,” she protested as
she tried to jump for the book yet again, making
him back away and raise a brow. “How do you
think I’m going to see three new things while
I’m on a boat?”
“Ah, but my darling little bookworm,”
he practically purred as he took her by the elbow
and propelled her toward the railing. “You said
so yourself, you’ve never been on a boat before.
There are plenty of things to see on a boat, if
only you know where to look for them.”
“Like what?” Felicity wanted to know as
she laid her arms along the rail and leaned over
to look down into the waves. The engine made
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the water bubble up from somewhere out of
sight, and she tried to see if she could discover
the source.
Lancelot stood behind her, and this made
her look suspiciously back over her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Hush,” he said with an innocent smirk
as he moved closer, penning her in with one arm
to either side. He tilted her face upwards to show
her the flock of seabirds he’d just spotted. “Look
up there, Felicity. Have you ever seen a flock of
birds over the open water?”
“No, of course not,” she admitted as she
watched them flying about above them. Some of
the birds were chasing each other, and she gave
him a puzzled look. “What are they doing?”
“Don’t you know, little bookworm?” he
asked her with a wicked grin.
Felicity turned back to watch some more
as two birds came together, and figured it out.
Her face turned every possible shade of red as
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the coupling birds screeched and fell briefly
together.
“Lance!” she gasped, hiding her eyes
with her hands.
“Come on, now, my girl, that was only
the first thing you’ve never seen,” he teased her.
“You can’t give up on the game already. Don’t
you want your book back?”
“Let go of me, you evil man,” she
admonished him when she realized he had
pressed her closer to the rail than ever. Lancelot
snickered and rested his chin on the top of her
head.
Felicity had a strong desire to lean back
against him, which she firmly held in check. She
never knew how good it could feel to have a
man’s breath slant over the top of her ear until
Lancelot Jones had entered her world.
“Oh, look, Felicity, a school of fish,” he
said in a seductively soft whisper. “You can’t
have ever seen that before, either.”
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Curious now, Felicity followed the
finger that he pointed toward the water with her
eyes to see the aforementioned fish. Once he had
her attention, that hand slipped around to the
front of her waist as he pulled her back against
him.
Lance could feel Felicity’s heart
pounding quickly in her chest, and it made him
want her more than ever. He buried his nose
slightly into her unruly hair now, smelling her
scent.
“Lance, I—” she began, but then he
moved away again.
“You’re shivering, my dear,” he said in
a husky tone. “Would you like to make the third
thing you see be the ship’s galley? Perhaps we
can have a look at the menu.”
All of the places his body had touched
hers felt almost painfully aware that his warmth
was no longer there. Her belly swam with the
same odd feeling it had experienced the day
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they’d met, and she couldn’t stop thinking how
the birds must be much happier with their
outcome at the moment than she was with theirs.
Lance held her hand as they stepped
inside the door to the small galley. It was lined
with a few rows of booths that were firmly
attached to the floor, and about twenty people or
so were seated in them. They found an
unoccupied booth and slid inside, one on each
side of the small table.
“The food does not smell overly
promising, does it?” Lance pointed out as he
glanced at someone else’s meal.
“Not especially,” Felicity agreed with a
slightly wrinkled nose.
But she said this mostly
because she didn’t think she could eat a single
bite of food with so many butterflies running
rampant in her stomach.
She wondered if Lance could tell this
was the case when he reached across the table
and began to trace little patterns on her hand.
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“I’ve got a better idea, if you are not very
hungry.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice
coming out in a husky whisper that made the evil
man smile with delight. If he hadn’t been aware
of his effect on her before, it was certain he knew
of it now.
“The ship will be docking in Calais
within the hour. Perhaps we could have a late
lunch somewhere instead,” he told her.
“If you like,” she practically whispered.
“You’re shivering again,” he told her, his
voice practically purring as he leaned in a bit
closer. “Here, I’ll let you wear my jacket, and
when we’ve done eating our meal later on, we’ll
find someplace to get you one of your own.”
“All right,” she agreed. “But won’t you
get cold?”
“No, I’m feeling overly warm just now,”
he said softly as he got up and moved around the
table to slide the jacket around her shoulders.
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“Perhaps we could watch as the
shoreline comes into view,” Felicity answered
brightly as she got to her feet, sliding her arms
into the sleeves and turning toward the door.
“Yes, but we’ll let most of the crowd get
off of the ship before we try it ourselves,” Lance
agreed, and the two returned to the deck,
hanging over the rail to enjoy the view as the gap
between the boat and shore steadily decreased in
size.
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TWENTY
Lancelot and Felicity stood together
against the ship’s rail, side by side, as they
waited for the ship to reach the rapidly
approaching shore. More and more people
began to gather around them, vying for a good
position for deboarding.
With a chuckle, Felicity pointed out to
Lancelot the young man who had nearly bowled
her over before they’d boarded the boat earlier.
He was being scolded quite severely by one of
the boatmen for something he had done.
“Well, wouldn’t it be a grand show if
he’d throw the blighter overboard right now?”
said Lance vindictively. “That would be justice
served.”
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“Oh, Lance, don’t be so melodramatic,”
Felicity said with a shake of her head. “No harm
was done.”
“Yes, there was,” he said with a frown of
disgust. “He wounded my pride, if not your
person. I’m supposed to be protecting you,
remember?”
“Of course,” she said with a sigh of
resignation. “But you really don’t need to worry
about me, you know. I am perfectly capable of
taking care of myself.”
“Perhaps I like the idea of protecting you
anyway,” he said off-handedly, and turned back
toward the shoreline again.
Felicity noticed that Lancelot had started
to shiver. With a playful chuckle, she turned him
around so he was facing her again and began to
rub his arms.
“You know, Lance, you should know
better than to believe that just because you’re a
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man means you are immune to the cold,” she
admonished him.
“Who says I’m cold?” he asked, trying to
sound like he wasn’t. The force of his statement
was lost completely behind the chattering of his
teeth.
“Come here, silly,” she said, and used
the edges of the jacket to cover his hands.
“Well, if you’re going to insist upon
warming me, we might as well do the thing
right,” he said with a grin, and slid his arms
inside the jacket and around her. “Mm, see? This
is much better.”
“No doubt,” she said wryly as she tried
not to look up into his eyes. She leaned her chin
on his chest instead, and realized his heart was
beating faster than normal, and then he laughed,
the sound of it vibrating her head a bit.
“What’s so funny?” Felicity wanted to
know as she ventured a brief glance upward and
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caught sight of his smile. Blushing, she settled
her face back into his chest again.
“Nothing, really,” he said as he snuggled
even closer. “I just feel happy.”
“Happy to be warm, perhaps,” she teased
with a nervous little giggle that made him laugh
again.
“Deliciously warm,” he agreed.
They stood just like that for what seemed
like an age before most of the other passengers
had left the boat. Several times Felicity saw the
boatman look over at them with a smile on his
lips, and she wondered what he was thinking
about them.
“Okay, let’s get off this ship already,”
Lance said briskly as he stirred from his
comfortable spot. “I know of a perfect little
bistro we could pop over to, since I’ve been
there many times before with my grandmother.”
Felicity nodded her agreement, and the
two of them walked together off of the boat,
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giggling because he kept one of his arms
securely inside the coat as they went, earning an
amused glance from the boatman.
“It’s always a pleasure to see such a
happy couple,” he told them with a smile.
Felicity blushed even more, hearing this. She
wondered if everyone else there thought they
were a couple as well, and then she realized with
a start of surprise that they’d certainly been
acting like one.
As soon as they were out of the sight of
any Mundanes, Lance brought out his wand and
waved it over them, and the next thing Felicity
knew they had popped right into the middle of a
busy little bistro. When nobody there batted an
eye over their sudden appearance, Felicity
realized they must be inside some part of
Magical France, rather than Mundane.
Just as they had popped in, a small table
suddenly set itself with silverware, and a menu
floated over and opened up, wordlessly inviting
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them to sit down. Felicity smirked as Lance held
her chair before taking his own.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Shouldn’t a gentleman help a beautiful young
woman into her seat?”
Looking down, Felicity realized that
Lance had also transf
ormed her dress into a
sleek, black velvet evening gown. The neckline
was a bit lower than she was used to, but it made
her feel decadently grown-up as a result.
“Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever worn
anything quite as lovely as this gown before,
Lance,” she said with a slight blush.
“You look absolutely lovely in it, my
dear,” he told her as he sat down across from her.
His eyes roamed downward very briefly, letting
Felicity know how much they appreciated the
view.
“Lance, I love this, I really do,” she said,
still smirking. “But it does make me wonder
about something.”
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“Oh? What might that be?”
“Well, I wondered if you’ve ever had to
rough it before, or if you’ve always dined in the
finest restaurants and wore the finest clothes.”
“Roughing it, as you so casually put it, is
highly overrated,” he scoffed. “I much prefer the
fact that I don’t have to.”
“Ha,” she chuckled. “Just as I thought.
I’ll bet that you couldn’t last one night if you
tried camping the Mundane way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not talking about simply sleeping
out under the stars, with your wand at your beck
and call whenever a whim may take you,” she
explained with a smirk. “I mean good, old-
fashioned Mundane camping.”
“Are you serious?” he laughed. “You
mean as in rubbing two sticks together to start a
fire, building a lean-to out of a bunch of twigs,
and sleeping on a bed of leaves type camping?
Of course not.”
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“I’ll bet you couldn’t last one night out
in the wild, could you, Master Lancelot Jones?”
she teased him.
“Oh, and you think you could,
bookworm?” he scoffed good-naturedly, sitting
forward in his chair so their noses were
