by Celeste Raye
“But he did.”
“I know that, but I will die before I say that to him.” Christy’s arms crossed over her chest, but the gesture was defensive rather than angry. “I was so scared,” she admitted softly, “And I never thought I would be happy to see him, but…”
Heather snorted. “Are you serious right now? I know you better than anybody else, and I know you did not come here just to see me. Do not get me wrong, I am so happy to see you, uneaten by Orcs especially. But I know you, and you never would have…you wanted to see him, didn’t you?”
Oh God, why try to lie? Heather knew her too well. “Yes. I had to know if…if I made a mistake.”
“By leaving or coming back?”
“Either way.”
Heather said, “You know, he isn’t so bad. Did you know the Orcs killed his brother and that his mom died while trying to protect him?’
Christy blinked. She stuttered out, “No, I didn’t. He never said.”
“He doesn’t say a lot, not about what he really should.” Heather eyed her. “Max told me all that. Blake wouldn’t ever, I guess. He’s a good guy, under all that other stuff. There’s a lot of those on the Council who feel the restrictions on his bearing children are unfair and wrong.”
Christy’s heart gave a flutter. “Well it is, and if he could, he could probably find a perfectly nice dragon lady to marry.”
Oh shit. That was true. Her heart sank even further. This had been a bad idea, and she knew it. Blake and she were not meant for each other; they were not even right for each other! She said, “Oh, well maybe they should change that then.”
“You know they can’t. But they would if they could.”
Was Heather trying to warn her that she might lose out on a great guy? It was hard to say and before she could ask, Blake and Max reappeared. Max asked if he could see Heather for a few minutes and whisked her away, leaving Christy standing there alone with Blake. She shuffled her feet, not sure what to say just then.
Christy said, “Listen, I am sorry about making you have to fight the Orcs with me. I’m sure that was the last thing you wanted to have to do today.”
His shoulders moved up and down in a small shrug. “I’d probably fight more than a few Orcs for you.”
Christy eyed him carefully, “Are you trying to flatter me?”
He said, “Is it working?”
It was, actually. She’d rather die than admit that though. “Working how?”
His handsome face gave nothing away. She’d always known that and she also knew that she couldn’t trust him. He had ulterior motives, no doubt about it. But hadn’t there been good relationships made between people who hadn’t necessarily entered into them for the right reasons? If not, all those treacly romance novels she had read about Dukes wedding governesses for convenience had lied to her. That she was trying to compare herself and Blake and their incredibly unusual non-romance to the plot of a historical romance novel amused her despite herself.
He said, “I missed you.”
Her heartbeat threatened to reach heights both dizzying and terrifying. “Why?”
It was a question she really needed an answer to and she held her breath as soon as she had demanded that answer. Blake said, “You know, you have to be the most frustrating woman ever created. She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to flatter her, but she was sure that it irritated her. “I am so sorry that I’m so frustrating. Perhaps you should go back to my world, set up a new dating profile, and remember not to drink coffee before, or on your date this time.”
She turned on her heel, but his hand caught hers, stopping her from stalking away. He said, “Don’t. Don’t just walk away. I’ll admit that I’m a little confused and I’m not sure exactly how to talk to you. I don’t…” he fidgeted a bit, “I’m not really good at saying what I really think and feel. But I meant it. I missed you.”
She wished she could read his face, but as usual, it was in its inscrutable mask. He might not have been good at saying how he felt, and he was damn good at hiding it. “You’re frustrating too.”
He said, “I’ve been told I can piss people off pretty good too.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have.”
He said, “Are you hungry?”
Was that a trick question?
She said, “A little. Unless, of course, you’re offering sex, in which case the answer is a complete no.”
He managed to look both wounded and amused. “I meant are you hungry, as in, have you had anything to eat?”
Why was she being so prickly? He was obviously trying to be nice, and he had just said that he missed her, something that had made her heart sing just a little bit. She had gone there to find out if there was anything between them and it seemed as if he wanted there to be, and she just kept pushing him away, which defeated the entire purpose of her having gone through everything she had to get there in the first place. She was self-sabotaging, and she knew it; she just didn’t know how to stop.
“No. I haven’t.”
He said, “Come with me.”
She let him lead her out of the hall. To her surprise, instead of heading towards the kitchens, he led her toward the door.
She asked, “Have they opened a restaurant here since I was here last?”
He gave her a surprised look. “What do you mean?”
She said, “You offered me something to eat but the kitchens are that way.” She jerked the thumb over her shoulder in the direction that they were moving away from.
Blake grinned at her. “There are other places than the castle to find food.”
They entered the courtyard, and he changed. He dipped his back low and said, “Come on, climb aboard.”
She gave him a wary glance. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you out to dinner.”
Her eyelids blinked up and down rapidly. “But where?”
He said, very softly, “Would you just trust me for five minutes? Or just five seconds? Just long enough to get on my back?”
Could she trust him that was the biggest question of all? Blake was charming and smooth, so handsome that it almost hurt to look at him. But he did have that agenda, and he had never made a secret of it. If he was out to seduce her, it would probably only be to further that agenda of his. Could she trust him even though she knew exactly what it was that he wanted from her?
She took a deep breath and held her hand out and placed it on his wing and then scrambled onto his back. The feel of him below her, slightly rough and oh so powerful, her thighs clenching around him, thrilled her to no end. Wetness formed within her inner walls and she felt desire stroking along her veins and skin.
Blake lifted off the ground, and she caught her breath as she always did. There was something so powerful about flight, so intensely sexy about it that she could scarcely breathe. Her hands rested around his shoulders, feeling the strength of them, as he carried them upward into the air, but not so high that she could not make out the distinctive features of the ground and the things below. They winged over the village and then beyond it. The wind from his magnificent wings blew her hair back from her face and sent her clothes rippling around her body. Her nipples stiffened, and that wetness began to trickle from within her core, running down to dampen her panties.
For a moment, all that existed was the two of them. That flight, that sensation of him between her legs moving in a way that recalled with vivid clarity the night they had spent together, and the ecstasy he had given her within it.
Soon, too soon, he was gently lowering them toward the earth. She looked at the place with avid curiosity. It was a small, rather plain stone house with a simple red door and a very old wooden fence. She climbed off his back, and he changed. They stood there, side-by-side, staring at the house.
Christy asked, “What is this place?”
Blake said, “It belonged to my parents. At one time, before the Orcs grew in number and strength, the castle was just a place where we would meet at certain times of the
year. It was a symbol more than anything else. None of us really lived in it. When the Orcs started warring upon us, everyone moved into it, to the castle I mean, because we needed a fortress. My parents always meant to come back here, to live.”
That touched her heart for some reason. She knew they had never managed to do it. His mother had died fighting the Orcs, and his father had died because he had taken on a dragon who had turned on his kind. In doing so, his father had sealed his own fate. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. The woods crowded in close, but the mountain stood above them. A clear flowing stream ran across one side of the property, and a sensation filled her: a feeling of peace and calm such as she had never known.
She asked, “Did you grow up here?”
He said, “I spent the best part of my childhood here, yes, but I grew up in the castle.”
She asked, “Who takes care of it now?”
He said, “I do. It’s all I have left of them, so I sort of cherish it.”
There was no sort of to it. It was clear that he did. The house, despite being empty, was very well kept. The roof had recently been repaired from the looks of things and the grass that made up the front yard was neatly trimmed. Pretty flowers grew in pots below the porch, and the paint on the door was fairly fresh.
She said, “It’s beautiful.”
He said, “Before the humans all created just the one village below the castle, they lived wherever they wanted to. The world was new then and there was a lot of room. There were farms nearby, and my parents used to hold a ball every full moon.”
There was a smile on his face when he said the words and she stared at him, seeing real happiness on his face for the first time. She said, “You must miss them a lot.”
His gaze was direct. It didn’t falter. “That’s the thing about being a dragon. Our lives are long, and so are our memories.”
They stepped toward the house. She said, “So we are having dinner here? Is there food here?”
He said, “Yes. I come here a lot and I keep things here. It’s probably a little rougher than you’re used to but I think it will do.”
He opened the door and stood to one side, ushering her in. As she went past him and went to step over the threshold, his hand came down, light but so warm and there, right on the base of her spine. That gesture, so courtly and somewhat old-fashioned, made her head spin. How long had it been since a man had held the door open for her to enter first and then guided her through with a light touch? She couldn’t even remember.
She had been so afraid of complications, so afraid of actual dating, that she had allowed herself to be deprived of the things that made courtship so special.
That gave her pause. Was this a courtship? If so, what did he really want?
She’d come there to find out if he wanted her or just what she could give him. Now it was her chance to find out, and suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer anymore. If all he wanted was for her to bear his child but didn’t want her, she was going to end up with a huge heartache, and that was something she just simply could not afford.
If you want more, if you want her, she is going to have to decide to leave her world behind forever and live in this one. Blake could not live in her world. She had seen how badly he fit in there for herself that day in the coffee shop.
The door opened into a large room that featured a massive fireplace and old but still lovely furnishings: carved chairs and tables, a low upholstered sofa, rugs made of some woven fabric, and to her surprise, a very lovely instrument similar to a piano.
A large kitchen, hardly modern but entirely serviceable, took up most of the far end of the room. She went to it and stared at it. That they had some power was something she knew. They got it from some magical source, and she knew that the kitchens in the castle relied on ice and a sort of cellar system for keeping things cold. It was the same there in that house but on a much smaller scale. She ran her fingers over the top of the stove and asked, “Does it burn wood?”
Blake said, “Yes.”
He was very close to her. She could smell that unique smell that was solely his, feel the heat emanating from his body. Discomfited by the way that her nipples were steadily tightening underneath her bra and the urgent pounding in her lower body, she took a step to the side and turned about to look at the piano-like instrument. “Is that a piano?”
“It’s called a pianoforte. Do you play?”
She shook her head regretfully. “I always wanted lessons, but my mom could never afford them.”
No, but she could afford to go out with her friends and track down men that might be her next husband.
That thought made Christy’s heart nearly stop. Her mother had hardly been an example of how to have a relationship. As a result, Christy was woefully unprepared for one, something she had always known and had always been angered by. She found herself wondering, at that moment, if her mother’s predilections for going out to bars and picking up men had been something that she had passed on to her daughter, like a genetic inheritance.
Blake said, “I could teach you.”
That shocked her out of her reverie. “You play?”
He gave her a slightly sarcastic smile. “Don’t look so surprised. We live for centuries you know; we have to do something to pass the time.”
There he was, that smirking jerk that she wanted to slap right in the face. She gave him a quelling look, and he grinned at her, completely unabashed. Her minor irritation broke apart, and she found a smile starting to surface. Not only that, but a larger understanding, one she had not been able to grasp during the time they spent together before, also came up. Blake was a lot like her. He hid his feelings behind sarcasm and witty comebacks.
She said, “Well, I’d like that. Since you are like a thousand years old, maybe we should do it soon before your fingers go all crooked and gnarled from arthritis and we have to put you on a cane just to walk.”
His mouth sagged open. She shot him a triumphant look. He blinked a few times and then his head went back, and he roared laughter. He chortled out, “Ouch. We don’t age that way, by the way. We don’t get arthritis.”
Christy said, “Good to know.”
If they had a child together, her child would never have arthritis. That was actually good to know. Blake moved past her and toward the cellar. He said, “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”
He opened a small door to the left and vanished down what looked like a set of rickety stairs. Christy drifted back over to the windows and stood looking out at the front yard. There was a small winding road that snaked along right outside the fence that marked off the boundaries of the property. She found herself wondering where it went.
His footsteps came back up the stairs, and she turned and asked him that question. Blake set the small bags that he had brought up from the cellar down carefully on a counter and said, “Well, before the Orcs destroyed it all, there were several really large villages out that way. The humans had a lot of kids. They outgrew places and moved on and made new ones. At one time, there were about a hundred thousand humans scattered all across this countryside.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Oh yes. You have to remember that we had already been here several hundred years then and when the wizard cursed us, there were over three thousand humans on the battlefield that came with this.”
“And they’re all gone now?”
Blake began to busy himself at the counter. “Yes.”
His voice was rough, and she sensed the hurt and desolation in it. She moved a little bit closer. “All that’s left are those that are in the village?”
That village wasn’t small; there were at least a couple thousand people within it. But it was small in comparison to how many humans had once been there. Blake took out a wheel of delicious-looking cheese and began to slice it with a sharp knife. His forehead wrinkled. “I once suggested that we start some sort of campaign to bring more humans here, but none
of the others were for it. It’s not just that we need humans, because in all honesty, we don’t really need them at all. It’s that there are any number of humans who are seeking a better place and who have no opportunity to find it over there in your world. I mean, just think about it, all those people that want to live off the grid and make a new life, all those people who believe in us still, all the people who are running away from unfairness and war. We could bring them here…” He looked up at her. “Of course, if we did it now they would just be running right into a war that involves Orcs. But it’s still a good idea.”
“It is.” She studied him. If they didn’t need humans, why did he want to bring them into the world then? She said, “What made you think of it?”
Blake said, “This place can get lonely. The others, especially the older councilmembers, they’re so use to it, that they don’t notice it. Or they’re just so old they don’t want kids on their lawn, as they say in your world.”
She leaned closer to him, plucking what looked like a grape up off the counter and popping it into her mouth. She chewed slowly before asking, “Did you go into my world a lot?”
He nodded. “It was easier a few hundred years ago. Hell, it was easier a hundred years ago. Ever since your kind found that magic that you use to always talk into those little bricks and so on, it’s harder. There’s too much noise, and people move too fast.
“The only good part about that is that everybody is so busy looking down at the things they are holding in their hands that they don’t really notice who’s walking right beside them. A hundred years ago, people would always spot us. Oh, they would not know us as dragons, but they knew that we were strangers, or that we were somehow different. Back then I guess people paid more attention.”
She said, “Yeah we have a tendency to hide behind our cell phones and other things now.”
He asked, “Why do you do that?”
She said, “It’s how we keep up with what’s going on in the world.”
He asked, “Wouldn’t you be better off just being a part of the world instead of just reading about it on those things?”
That was a logic she couldn’t dispute or deny. “Probably. We probably would. But we’ve been mostly trained to accept that is our reality now.”
