Dragon's Desire

by Delilah Devlin

  “You smile,” he murmured, ducking his head to speak.

  His action increased the sense of intimacy she felt. Angela barely restrained herself from playing with her hair. She wasn’t a girlie-girl, had never really learned to flirt. She wished she had because she sensed she was out of her depth with this man. “It’s a lovely day,” she said, wincing inwardly because the comment sounded so inane.

  His teeth were a flash of gleaming white. “And it’s almost over,” he said, gaze lifting to the sun sinking behind the edge of the rock wall.

  At the ale tent, he held back the canvas flap and waved her inside. “Head to the back. It’s quieter.”

  And darker. The late afternoon light peeking through the doorway barely brightened the entrance. Lights strung along the ceiling ended before the last of the bench tables. Candles in globes burned to chase away a little of the shadows.

  A clinking of metal sounded, and he sat with his back to the crowd then signaled her to sit beside him.

  She stepped over the bench and lowered to the seat, angling her body toward his as he did the same. This close, their knees touched. His hand settled on the table beside hers, and she marveled at the contrast. His large hand was tanned. Hers looked like a child’s beside it.

  He touched a finger to her ring, but turned to catch her glance.

  Embarrassed to have been caught studying him, she ducked her chin.

  “Have you lived here always?” he asked, his voice a lazy drawl.

  “Since my parents died when I was a teenager. My aunt took me in.” And Angela became her caretaker after her aunt was diagnosed with cancer.

  “Then perhaps you would be willing to show me the sights.”

  Angela laughed. “Did your boss really not research the area before you moved an entire castle to this mountain? Besides the river, which is good for fishing and rafting, there’s not a lot to see.”

  “What do you do in your free time? Do you have a boyfriend?”

  First the ring, then this. Was he angling to find out if she was available? The thought that he might be interested in her sent a warm wave of pleasure to her cheeks. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She refrained from telling him she’d never had a serious relationship. The last thing she wanted was to appear pathetic.

  He leaned closer, his blue gaze intent. “But you’re very pretty. How have you managed to remain...single?”

  Angela cleared her throat, but didn’t let her gaze veer from his, no matter how much she wished she could retreat. The man was a little overwhelming—something her rapidly melting body appreciated. “My aunt was diagnosed with cancer shortly after I moved here,” she said softly. “I spent most of my spare time tending her, taking her to appointments, sitting with her during chemo...”

  An instant later, his hand cupped hers. “When did she pass?”

  His question was quiet, with a touch of empathy that pleased her, thinking he must be a kind man. “A year ago.”

  His finger traced the edge of her hair where it fell across her cheek, then pushed the strand behind her ear.

  The gesture was tender, his eyes warm. Or was she reading more into this?

  “Forgive me,” he murmured, “ but I hope you won’t think I’m too bold...” He leaned toward her, his eyes glittering fiercely.

  Part of her wanted to pull away because of the intensity of that look. It seared, causing her blood to heat and speed through her veins. The other part, her curious, already infatuated heart, held still as his mouth took hers.

  With just the soft press of his lips, she sighed, her body swaying toward him, her mind emptying of everything except the firmness of his lips. When his tongue tentatively probed between hers, she gasped and opened.

  Only he didn’t surge inside. His tongue barely penetrated, touching the tip of hers, and she relaxed further, enjoying the slow, building pleasure of his kiss.

  He drew back, and several seconds passed before she realized the kiss had ended. She blinked her eyes and blushed at the knowing look he gave her. “I will grant you your interview,” he whispered, then leaned away, straightening. “But I must warn you his lordship has some...eccentricities. He likes his privacy.”

  His lordship. Oh, the interview. She shook her head and wondered how he could so quickly change from ardent lover to brisk businessman. “I don’t want to intrude. I promise not to stay past a half an hour.”

  “I will have to blindfold you. To assure his privacy. And you cannot bring your camera.”

  “Blindfold me? Seriously?” she asked, excited because it seemed she’d get the interview she’d prized. “That’s really necessary?”

  “Only if you want your interview.” He dipped his chin. “Like I said, his lordship has certain eccentricities.”

  The interview was what she’d come for, but suddenly, she wasn’t so eager to achieve her goal. Instead, she’d enjoyed her time alone with this man.

  She drew a deep sudden breath. Lord, she’d never even asked his name. She’d blurted hers, hoping to make a connection. But he hadn’t asked for it. Embarrassment flooded her. Her name wasn’t important. She wasn’t important. Not to the man staring so steadily. He wasn’t going to become her beau, wasn’t really interested in dating her.

  Her aunt’s words about boys not buying the cow when they could get the milk for free echoed in her mind. Shame brought another flush of heat which washed down her neck.

  She’d been easy. Let him walk her into a dark corner and kiss her silly. And now he expected her to let him blindfold her and lead her off somewhere they would be alone.

  “You can ask any of the staff here who I am,” he murmured. “If you’re worried about your safety. But I promise nothing will happen. Nothing you won’t want.”

  Almost as though he’d read her misgivings, he’d countered them. His body was so still, she knew her answer was important. She instinctively knew, the way a woman knows when a man is really interested, that they weren’t really talking about an interview anymore. “I don’t know you.”

  “But you do. We’ve kissed,” he said, a smile stretching slowly across his full lips.

  A smile that invited confidence, that enticed, teased...tempted. And lord, she was tempted to forget good sense, because, right this moment, she didn’t care whether he was taking her to interview his boss or leading her to his bed. She wanted everything his knowing expression promised. Years of celibacy had primed her imagination with fantasies of what her first time would be like. This man in shining armor far exceeded her wildest dreams.

  She tilted her head and aimed a narrowed glance his way, telling him silently that if he expected an easy conquest, he was bound to be disappointed. No, she wanted more than a quick introduction to the carnal arts. Much more. “I agree to your terms. I want that interview.”

  Chapter Two

  The woman shivered as she sat on the chaise, her head swiveling side to side to follow the sounds his minion made as he prepared the room.

  She was lovely, skin like ivory, hair like burnished gold, lips…

  Lovely, yes, but did she have the one thing he needed to end his curse for all time? He shifted his stance, his boots scuffling softly on the floor.

  Her head jerked toward the sound. “Is this necessary?”

  “I told you his requirements,” Guy murmured from where he stood beside her.

  “Why the blindfold?” she whispered. “Is he hideous?”

  Drago, Lord of Drakkenberg, snorted. Most women found him desirable. So much so, they’d throw themselves into his path, heedless of any dangers. But he was careful to hide his true nature, successful most of the time with suppressing the monster inside. Not so, today. Not on the first day of the full moon.

  Guy pulled the leather restraints from beneath the bolster pillow and laid them silently behind the girl in case they were needed. Then he nodded to Drago and faded toward the stone wall of the bedchamber, his duty done.

  Drago stepped toward the girl, halting just in front of her. “You
wished an audience?” he asked, trying to keep the dry whispery rasp in his voice hidden.

  Her head tilted, exposing her slender neck.

  He sniffed, smelled a citrusy perfume and the one aroma only his sensitive nose could detect…virginity. The scent was fresh and elemental like sea water. His body stirred, his cock hardening beneath his robe.

  Why she was here didn’t matter in the great scheme of things. She wasn’t here to save her kin or earn a fat purse. Why any of them surrendered their chastity didn’t matter. The ancient hunger had to be fed to keep the world safe from his fiery wrath. One virgin sacrificed every hundred years, hundreds in all, their blood and tears never touching his soul. Long ago, he’d discovered he needn’t actually kill the girls, that another sort of devouring would serve the same purpose. With relief, he’d continued to exist, not because he didn’t like to kill, but he hated the waste. A virgin could be turned to serve him for her lifetime.

  He’d have a companion until she died. The last, Sarah, had been gone for nearly thirty years. Although he’d dreaded watching his lover age and die, he’d cared for all her needs until the end. Or rather, he and Guy had seen to her comforts.

  Faithful Guy. The knight who’d vowed to vanquish him before he’d faced him atop that atoll, had hesitated when he’d discovered the nature of the sacrifice. Thereafter, he’d vowed to serve the creature and keep his secret, trading his vow to the church for a higher calling as they’d worked together to use Drago’s curse for good. In the old days, they’d funded a private army to protect the innocent. These days, they used their vast fortune to donate to good causes around the world.

  “Are you Lord Drakken?”

  “I am.”

  Her head tilted to one side. “I asked for an interview. Can we dispense with the blindfold?”

  “No.” His ability to maintain a human form was temporarily compromised. He didn’t want to frighten her. Gazing down at his hands where the green scales covered the backs and his nails had stretched to sharp talons—no, he’d frighten her to death if she saw him now. “Did Guy explain things?”

  “That you’re a recluse and didn’t like to grant interviews? Yes. He said the first write-up in the paper was one he provided to the reporter.” Her eyebrows drew together above the black cloth. “Why did you make an exception for me? I’m not the most experienced reporter on the Tribune’s staff.”

  “You met one of my prerequisites.”

  She straightened. “What was that?”

  “You are a virgin.”

  Her breath caught. “How could you know that?” she murmured and tilted her head backward. “And why would it matter?”

  “Because I will ask for something in exchange for this interview.”

  “Good lord, I’m an idiot. I don’t know which of you is worse,” she said, her voice a strained whisper. “One trying to seduce me, one bribing me.”

  He arched an eyebrow toward Guy whose mouth curved. “Can you be bribed? How ambitious are you?”

  She wrinkled her pretty nose. “I’ve been writing classifieds. I’d do almost anything to get a chance to write features.”

  “So you told Guy. Almost anything?” He leaned toward her. “Would you sacrifice your chastity?”

  Rather than displaying gape-mouthed shock, the little virgin tilted up her chin—the height and sharpness of the movement betraying anger. “You want me to sleep with you?”

  For someone so inexperienced, she was bold. Blindfolded and alone with two strangers, and yet, other than the rosy blush spotting her cheeks, the young woman was composed.

  Interest stirred inside him. Arousal tensed his groin. “Is it so very alarming?” he drawled. “I’d compensate you—with pleasure—as well as put in a good word for you with your editor. He’s a friend of mine.” Not that she’d be free to enjoy any career advancement.

  “I don’t understand. Are virgins your particular fetish?” she bit out. “I would have thought we’d be too much bother for someone so worldly.”

  Drago ignored her question. “Are you saving yourself for some purpose? Marriage, perhaps?”

  Her mouth twisted. “Why does it matter?”

  “I am curious, and so is Guy.”

  Her head turned slightly toward Guy, who stepped forward and cupped the corner of her shoulder, rubbing his thumb against her skin.

  She shrugged her shoulder to throw off his underling’s caress. “Guy led me on. I don’t owe him or you an answer.”

  “Don’t be angry with Guy. His interest in you is real. I can tell by the way he’s staring daggers at me right now,” he drawled, eyeing the deadly gleam in his friend’s eyes.

  “And yet, he remains silent while you insult me.”

  “Did I insult? I apologize. Guy and I have similar tastes. What he saw in you, your spirit of adventure, your beauty, I also desire.”

  Her breath caught, and her head turned slightly toward Guy as though hoping he’d reassure her.

  But Guy remained mute, his body stiff. He knew what must happen.

  “I mean you no harm,” Drago continued, keeping his voice soft. “Only pleasure. We both do. But I am still curious how you managed to remain pure.”

  Her breaths evened out, and she faced him again. “For the longest time, I simply didn’t have time to pursue a relationship with a man.”

  With a slow move, he leaned close and let his breath stir the hair beside her cheek. “Maybe you didn’t find a strong enough reason to give yourself,” he murmured. “Or maybe, the men you’ve dated haven’t found the secret to seducing you. As you said, we are worldly men.”

  Her breath wheezed inward, and her head snapped back. “Lord Drakken! I’m not going to trade my body for a story.”

  “Then what will you trade it for?” Her mouth opened, ready to serve him another set down, he had no doubt, but her brow furrowed as she paused.

  “This room is very large. There’s an echo. Why is it so large?”

  Smart lady. Her sudden change of subject had him grinning. “Perhaps I like the space.”

  “The workers who rebuilt the castle weren’t very chatty. But they did mention there were unusual accouterments.”

  “Do you have theories about their purpose?”

  “Is this a dungeon?”

  He drew back. A dungeon? One existed beneath the main rooms, but… “Do you think I have a dungeon for sexual play?”

  “Why else?” A slim shoulder lifted and fell.

  His lips twitched. “Does that intrigue you?”

  “I’ve been doing research into places like this. But I haven’t managed to get through the front doors of any of the clubs in Raleigh.”

  “Why do you think that is? Can they can guess your innocence just by looking at you?”

  The furrows in her forehead relaxed. Her head canted. “Do you really think they can?”

  “An experienced man would know.” Leaning close, he drew in her scent. “He can smell it on you.”

  “Maybe...” Her teeth bit into her bottom lip, then released it. “Maybe we have something we can bargain for. If you’re into the scene, that is. I’d let you tie me up...”

  She’d be more comfortable restrained then seduced? His body hardened. Something about the girl, more than her prized hymen, intrigued him. “I would still need a sample of your innocence.”

  “A sample?”

  “Nothing that will compromise your virginity, but I would taste you.”

  “Taste me?” She licked her lips, then a small almost indiscernible shiver quivered down her frame. “Why would you want that? Where’s the pleasure for you?”

  “Your innocence is an elixir.” There was more truth in that statement than she’d ever know.

  Again, she frowned. “I know you’re from Europe, but you have a very strange way of putting things.”

  He chuckled, warming to the challenge. “My dear, you have no idea.”

  Angela shivered at the delicious growling texture of Lord Drakken’s voice. So he wanted
to taste her? She didn’t think he was talking about a kiss. And despite how strange this whole interview was, she wasn’t really afraid for her virtue. He seemed willing to seduce her. And yet, a “taste” sounded so depraved. If the liquid heat wetting her panties was any clue, her body certainly wasn’t in opposition to the idea.

  Yes, she was a virgin, but she wasn’t entirely clueless. “A taste, then you’ll give me what I want?”

  “Entrée into a dungeon? Yes.”

  She swallowed hard, intrigued, but wasn’t ready to fold without making sure of just what would be expected. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Not a thing. Let my man prepare you.”

  His man. The handsome “knight” she’d approached in the first place. He had plied her with a drink while he charmed her into relating her life story. How had he guessed she was a virgin? Was she that bad of a kisser? Or was it the ring on her finger?

  He’d smiled. And then told her a bit about himself. Or only the bit about who employed him. She’d likely lit up like a Christmas tree, telegraphing her excitement. After that, she hadn’t paid close enough attention to the conversation because her mind had been abuzz with the possibilities. Entranced with who he worked for, as well as his handsome face.

  For twelve long months since her aunt’s death, she’d waited for the chance to write something other than ads selling washing machines and yorkie-poos. She’d hired on because of the carrot the editor had held out, promising her a shot at feature writing. Excitedly, she’d accepted the minimum wage job to get her foot in the door, sure she’d be writing features in no time, and not caring about what. Even if all she got was a chance to cover the local high school game or a spread for the Sunday paper with pictures of the winner of the Garden Club’s Best Rose contest, that opportunity would be her start.

  But she’d languished in her cubicle. She’d led such a sheltered life, she didn’t know the town or the people. Unfortunately, she’d never learned to mingle, preferring to spend her time after work alone at home, reading. Truthfully, she didn’t possess the necessary knowledge to make the connections she needed to find just the right story to launch her career.