Hip Deep in Dragons

by Christina Westcott

  “Of course, amore mio…jump to me, I will catch you.”

  She closed her eyes and with blind faith threw herself into his arms, for a moment the combined weight made them dip under water and she began to panic a little, but then they became fully submerged, and eventually, returned to the surface, bobbing up and down. She noticed a small ladder at the side of the boat she could cling to if she wanted to and that reassured her somehow. Who could fail to feel safe with Dante around?

  “But…but…where are we?” she spluttered.

  “Joanne, we are only just off the coastline of Sicily. Over there are the Aeolian Islands, he pointed and she made out some dark shapes in the distance. We shall have a little swim here, rest later and eat too, and then I am going to sail the boat over to one of them. It’s called Lipari and it’s the largest island, it’s volcanic. The food there is out of this world.”

  “You are full of surprises, Dante…”

  “I know.” He smiled and drew her close to him and stroked her face, and then pressed his lips down on hers, stealing her breath away as his tongue danced with hers. “Like that you mean?” he asked, drawing away.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “And like this…?” He wrapped his arms around her and untied her bikini top. She gasped at his cheek and watched as he spun it around his head and tossed it aboard the boat.

  “What did you do that for?” She blinked furiously.

  “Because you have a beauty Joanne that needs to be admired.” He cupped a breast in his hand and lowered his head to suckle. She groaned as she felt a tingle of desire course around her body. “Please do not worry, there is no one to see us here like this.”

  He pushed her up against the boat; the water was so clear, so aquamarine and warmer than she thought, though that might have been because he had switched on her button of desire. She noticed some fish swimming down below in amongst the fronds and rocks, and gasped.

  “Yes, this is a good place to catch fish, Joanne. I have been scuba diving here. You should join me some time.”

  She laughed. “I think this is as much of the ocean I can stand, Dante. I can swim but I’m not a strong swimmer.”

  He ran a wet finger along her cheek. “Ah, you are frightened, I can see that, but you need not be when you are with me. I can teach you about so many things.”

  She shivered involuntary, absolutely sure, there were many things Dante Alphonso could teach her about, not least of all love making. He was her tutor and she was about to become a very willing student.

  Flynn’s Kiss by Diane Saxon

  From the darkened protection of the corner of the room, Flynn watched the curvy little brunette with the bubbly hair bounce around, microphone in hand, wailing her heart out with obvious enjoyment. The sight of her large rounded breasts as they jiggled merrily along with the tune heated his stomach and threatened to move lower. She’d flicked several glances in his direction and each time she did, he sank further into the protective shadows by the wall, conscious she couldn’t see the left side of his face too clearly in the blue-hued lighting. Cute and friendly she might seem, but he knew from experience she would change her tune once she got a load of his scars. Women always did.

  At the age of eighteen he’d considered himself a lady-killer—as most guys did—but he had been full of himself, knowing he was a good-looking son-of-a-bitch. Never had a single problem, or gave a second thought. If he wanted, he took, with great enjoyment and relish. With his unusually pale blue, bold eyes, dark brown hair and chiseled features, he’d caught the attention of women of all ages. The fact he’d been brought up riding rodeo and working a ranch since he was born just added into the long, lean tone of his body. What nature hadn’t given him naturally, hard work and a tough upbringing had molded his body to perfection. When he’d joined the Special Forces, he’d honed it beyond perfection. He wasn’t overly tall, just under six feet, but his entire physique gave him presence. As a young man, he’d known it and reveled in it. Ego had driven him hard.

  A golden boy, given the gift of a beautiful face, a bright mind and a naturally lean body. He’d been destined to marry the glamour girl, crowned king and queen of the prom…everyone in town believed he had a long and happy marriage ahead of him with Rachel. Personally, he’d had a few qualms about the woman’s intelligence, but at the time and with the shallowness of youth, he had wallowed in her perfect beauty and the envy of the other boys. Celebrations had been wild at their engagement party before he went off to training camp. Faithful, he had returned to her time and again after each assignment. He’d had ambition, she’d had plans. The pair were well suited.

  It didn’t matter. It all changed with the slash of a knife. His looks were destroyed, his mind rebelled and the glamour girl ran screaming for the hills. He’d had the same reaction from women ever since.

  He tipped the bottle of beer up to his mouth and stared down the length of it at the pretty brunette. Her breasts were interesting—got a nice little heat going in the pit of his belly—but his preference was her pert little ass as she swayed in perfect rhythm to the song she was murdering. She caught his eye again, gave a broad smile and a twitch of her eyebrows. A definite invitation.

  He drew further into the shadows.

  “Hey.” Deputy Sherriff Ethan Swann, long-time friend and school companion, slid into the booth opposite and placed another bottle of beer on the table in front of him. Lifting his own bottle to his lips to take a swig, Ethan’s eyes gave a swift perusal of the room, typical of any law enforcement officer. He dipped his head in the brunette’s direction. “Cute. I saw her give you the eye, Flynn. First time I’ve seen Lady Liberty interested in anyone.”

  “Lady Liberty.” Flynn snorted. She was no lady, not the way she was putting it about, letting all the cowboys in the room get an eyeful while she performed for them all. Short skirt hugging her bootilicious butt. He took another good look at her while she shimmied her entire body, her back to the audience, her ass looking as though it were trying to fight its way out of the tiny strip of fabric covering it. Aware he was showing too much interest, he tutted in disgust.

  He rolled his eyes for effect. Jesus, some women.

  “No, really. The boys call her Lady Liberty. She’s a real sweetheart, everyone likes her. Bubbly little thing. She’s a friend of Kate’s from England.”

  Flynn’s chest gave a rapid knock as he glanced back up to see her wide violet eyes staring in his direction again. He gave an irritated shake of his head, not sure whether he meant it for her benefit or for his hormones to acknowledge his brain. He took a last slug of his beer and stood. He needed to get out of there. The woman was an unfair temptation that wasn’t going to happen. He was damned confident he could make her scream, but not for the right reason.

  He scoured the room, narrowed his eyes at the laughing, flirting people and wondered what the hell had possessed him to come out. He hated goddamned crowds, didn’t like hanging around people, except sometimes he thought he needed the company. Then when he had company, he wanted to be alone.

  He drew his attention back to the deputy, deliberately kept his eyes from the bundle of caterwauling temptation, sucked air through his teeth.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  Ethan leaned back with a look of regret and raised his beer bottle to his lips, pausing for a moment to smile up at Flynn, he tipped the bottle in salute. “There’s a missed opportunity.”

  A small fizzle of indignation rumbled through Flynn.

  “If she’s so hot why don’t you give her a go?”

  But his friend was unmoved by the hard eyed stare.

  “Nu uh. Not Liberty. She’s way too much for me. Besides I already have my eye on who I want. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.” He nodded in the bouncing bombshell’s direction. “But Liberty might just rock your world.”

  Huffing out a disgusted breath, Flynn placed his half-empty bottle on the table.

  “I’m shit with women. But one thing I do k
now, you shouldn’t wait too long, Ethan. Time passes.” Flynn clapped Ethan on the shoulder in lieu of grappling him around the neck like they used to do a few years before.

  He made his way through the crowds to the door. One last glance over his right shoulder showed him Lady Liberty was still giving him the come-on. Her huge eyes watched, her smile, full of saddened regret.

  He let the door slap firmly shut behind him to block out her beautiful eyes and her god-awful voice.

  He climbed into the old ranch truck and clenched the steering wheel with one hand, leaned back into the comfortable worn leather seat, and gave a weary sigh. He was tired. At twenty-six he’d become a miserable excuse for a human being.

  As bodyguard to the infamous movie star Cormack Blunt he’d had fun. Wild for a time, no one had called the shots other than Cormack, a.k.a. his cousin Mac. A few years older, Mac had saved him, dragged his sorry ass over to L.A. and made him work, when all he wanted to do was crawl into a corner and sulk. He’d forced him to look after himself when his best idea had been to grab a bottle and get himself drunk.

  Assigned as bodyguard and stunt coordinator, he’d delighted in torturing the action hero with killer exploits over the last couple of years. Ignored by most of Hollywood, with the exception of the odd starlet determined to use him to get to the movie star, he’d become more cynical as time went on as he witnessed how willing a human was to ignore something revolting to them in order to become a success in their own small world.

  After Mac’s departure touring Europe on his honeymoon for eight weeks with his new wife Zoe and their son Ryan, Flynn made the decision to come back to the ranch. The last thing they needed was a bodyguard—or a stunt coordinator come to think of it.

  Despite the offer from a number of celebrities to work for them in Mac’s absence, Flynn thought he deserved a break himself from the superficial world of movie making. Apart from anything, his rapport with Mac was such that Flynn did what he liked, and he liked to be his own boss. As long as he got his job done, everything was fine. Most celebrities would be a pain in the ass with their demands. Mac never had been.

  He didn’t regret taking time away, but he missed the kid. Strange he and Ryan, an eleven-year-old boy, had got on so well. Kids were easy though, non-judgmental.

  He let himself into his lodge at the far edge of the ranch accommodation block. Quiet and dark, it was just what he wanted.

  Jesus, he needed to be alone. It was why he’d come back home to the ranch. Male companionship and miles of open space to lose himself. The last thing he needed to fuzz his mind and make him want was some brainless little floozy intent on saving him.

  He left the lights off, navigated his way through to the bedroom in the pitch black and sat on the side of his bed. He expelled a long drawn-out sigh, his body deflated, muscles relaxed, he closed his eyes against the darkness and rested his face in his hands. Unbidden a vision of the bubbly brunette with the welcoming eyes flashed through his mind and disturbed his peace.

  •●•

  Beautiful was the only word she could think of to describe the cowboy who’d just left Toe Tappers. He’d sat partly in the shadows, his perfect profile toward her most the time, but every so often he’d tilted his head and the flickering light from the wall lantern had slanted across his bright eyes as he gave her a slow serious perusal.

  His firm lips remained in a straight line for the entire time he’d been there, depicting serious and broody, not normally her type. Quiet and intellectual would be a more accurate description of the sort of man she was drawn to. But when he’d tipped his head back to take a swallow of beer from the bottle he held with long-fingered casualness, her pulse escalated from a leisurely trot to a roaring gallop.

  She’d felt a terrific urge to trace her tongue along his strong, muscular throat and take a good bite of his ear.

  A warm flush stole across her skin as she closed her eyes and imagined what he would smell like—probably leather and horses and masculine heat. Liberty nibbled her bottom lip and allowed herself a secretive smile thinking of the hot cowboy. No harm in letting her imagination run riot once in a while.

  She cast a quick glance around the empty parking lot before she levered herself into the truck she’d borrowed. Her short legs caused her a little difficulty as her mini-skirt rode further up her backside and restricted her ability to simply hop in, making her entrance an inelegant affair. Good job nobody was there to see. She sprawled across the leather seat, slithered around in an attempt to straighten up. Almost pitiful no one was there—they could have given her a boost up and saved her some ungainly effort.

  Irritated, her movements short and jerky, she screwed up her face and gave it a brief rub. Stupid of her, she thought—as reality kicked in while she wriggled into the over-sized seat—to have any kind of illusion the guy would be interested. Her breath came deeper now and embarrassment tinged every thought. He’d been a god, a certain hunk of the month, a sexy stud who’d left the place with barely a backward glance. She smiled.

  Not quite true, he had given a quick glimpse over his shoulder, and when his narrow-eyed gaze met hers, she’d almost flung herself off the stage and hurtled after him. Except he’d gone, in the blink of an eye and it was too late to catch up. Besides, there was no reason he would possibly be interested in her. There was no need for him to look twice.

  She was quite ordinary.

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