The Dragon's Woman (Elemental Dragons Book 3)

by Emilia Hartley

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said, standing as well. “Hargrove House belongs to you, as does everything within her walls.”

  “Great.” Reaching for his hand, she clasped it between both of her own. “Thank you, Reginald. You make a lovely breakfast companion.” Leaning in, she brushed a kiss over his cheek, pleased to see the old butler’s cheeks turn rosy pink. “Would you be so kind as to show me the library?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Ellie spent the remainder of the day in the vast library of Hargrove House, surrounded by books filled with every kind of history she could imagine. She discovered that Elizabeth Hargrove’s father was a second-generation brewer who went into business with Dabney Vineyards after the union of Elizabeth and the young Lord Dabney, though something went terribly wrong with the first shipment right after Elizabeth’s death. The venture ended, as did any friendly interaction between the Dabney’s and the Hargroves. From what she could tell, it seemed Baron Hargrove blamed Lord Dabney for his daughter’s untimely death, even refusing to let Dabney raise his daughter as his own. Accusations of witchcraft and sorcery abounded, and the scandal was the talk of Dover for years to come. Not long after, the Dabney wine empire crumbled and the family was left destitute, leaving the disgraced members of the Dabney line no choice but to move elsewhere. Except for Lord Dabney, himself, that is.

  “But why would he stay?” Ellie wondered aloud, nibbling on the biscuit Eileen, the head housekeeper, had brought to her moments before. “What was left for him and why did his descendants keep coming around Hargrove House?”

  A soft knock came at the library door, moments before the pretty young maid, Sarah, walked in. She curtsied shyly to Ellie, who immediately felt out of place. They treated her like she was royalty here, and indeed, she felt anything but.

  “Yes, Sarah?” she asked kindly, hoping not to frighten the poor thing.

  Sarah nearly squeaked, but somehow managed to speak. “You have a visitor, Miss,” she said quietly.

  Ellie glanced down at her watch in shock. “Oh! Is it five o’clock already? Matt must think I’m such a flake. He called only two hours ago, to let me know he was stopping by. Thank you, Sarah.” Gathering up her things into a neat pile, Ellie hurriedly straightened her outfit and patted at her hair before following the maid to the foyer once more.

  It wasn’t Matt waiting for her, however. It was Dabney. He stood across the room by the door, clutching a large bouquet of red roses, looking thoroughly guilty. It was like a punch to the gut for Ellie. She knew she would probably end up seeing him again, though she hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

  “Thank you, Sarah,” she said quietly, dismissing the maid. “That will be all.” She had tried to keep her voice steady, but found it was shaking slightly. Damn. “Hello, Lord Dabney,” Ellie greeted her guest. “What a lovely surprise. I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see you again after yesterday.”

  James had the good grace to look embarrassed and guilty. “That’s why I’m here, I’m afraid. I owe you quite an apology. My behavior yesterday evening was, I’m ashamed to say, reprehensible. There is no excuse for it.” He held out the flowers and offered her a charming smile. She took them reluctantly. As she went to move away, James caught her hand. “I am so sorry, Ellie. I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

  It took everything she had not to pull away, but somehow, she managed to stay in place. Ellie swallowed hard, hoping it wasn’t audible. “Thank you,” she replied, rather rigidly. “I appreciate the gesture.” Unable to help it, she breathed in the sweet aroma of the flowers. She had always loved roses. It really was sweet of him to bring them. “These are beautiful. I’m just going to slip into the kitchen and put these in water.” She forced a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  Walking into the kitchen, she sniffed the roses again, the scent bringing with it a sense of serenity and forgiveness. He hadn’t really grabbed her arm that hard, she conceded. Maybe it was as he said, and his feelings just got away from him. He was sorry. He had said so himself. And he brought her such beautiful flowers. She buried her face in the blooms again. Maybe the connection between their families was just a coincidence. The altercation between Lord Dabney and Elizabeth had happened over two hundred years ago, after all. Maybe her mother hadn’t been afraid of him at all, and had instead fallen for somebody else. Her father had spent some time in England before they got married. Maybe they had met sooner than she’d initially thought, and her father, not Dabney, was the reason Anne had left Dover.

  She located a vase in a cupboard and filled it with water. Finding some scissors, Ellie cut the stems at an angle before arranging the roses in the vase, inhaling the aroma one last time. She was being silly. There was nothing dangerous about Lord Dabney; not this one, or any Dabney in the past. And he was handsome and charming. Probably an even better lover than Matt was. Could she be brazen enough to find out? There was no rule saying she couldn’t take two lovers, was there? Of course, it wasn’t exactly well thought of, but she and Matt had made no promises to each other that weren’t business related, and James really was sorry for the way he’d lashed out. There was certainly no harm in letting him take her on a date and seeing where things went, now was there?

  “James?” Ellie called as she entered the foyer again, pleased to see him waiting for her. She reached out a hand to him, which he took immediately. “I would like to thank you for coming here today. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” As she spoke, Ellie’s mind became a bit cloudy. Why was she thanking him for apologizing? James moved closer, taking both of her hands in his, until there was less than a foot between them. Ellie found it harder to think than ever.

  “I truly am sorry, Ellie,” he purred, and she was delighted to find he still smelled like the roses. “Please, permit me to take you to dinner.” He moved a bit closer. “Possibly a private walk in the garden.” Closer. Leaning down he whispered against her ear, his breath caressing her cheek. “We could lay together beneath the stars.”

  His proximity was intoxicating. Ellie closed her eyes, letting his hands roam up her arms, around her shoulders and down her back. One finger lightly traced the curve of her behind and she shivered in his embrace. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart was racing and she wanted to stay and run at the same time. All she could feel was James’s fingers against her skin as they untucked her blouse from her slacks. The pads of his thumbs played promising circles over the bare skin of her hips, trailing fire where they touched. Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. Unable to stop herself, she slipped her hands beneath his jacket and gripped his shirt for balance. He was hardly touching her, and yet, it felt like he was consuming her. The teasing brush of lips against her neck was agony, but she couldn’t help but revel in the act. No one had ever toyed with her like this. She wanted to drown in him, to let him whisk her away to whatever dark corner they could find and allow him to take her for as long as he wanted, however he wanted.

  She belonged to him.

  But no, that wasn’t right, the logical part of Ellie’s mind argued. Something was wrong here. Somehow, he was seducing her and making her think it was her idea. But she couldn’t stop him. His hand was playing over her bra now, lightly brushing her nipples through the lace. His other hand trailed down the bare skin of her back, then slipped beneath the fabric of her slacks. He cupped her ass before moving to the front, his fingers gently exploring beneath the lace of her thong. Heat exploded between her thighs and it wouldn’t be long before he got exactly what he wanted. Because it was what she wanted, too.

  No!

  “No,” she murmured feebly, trying and failing to push him away. “No, James, I can’t. We can’t.” Gaining her bearings, she looked up into his eyes, feeling his influence over her straining as she strengthened her resolve. “Not here.”

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked, his voice thick and harsh against her mouth. What would that mouth feel like on other parts of her, she wondered?

  Focus, Ellie! She pushed at him again, fri
ghtened to see a flash of anger in his dark eyes. “No, James, I’m sorry. But no. Our families have a business arrangement,” she reminded him, desperately seeking an excuse for her refusal. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to continue…whatever this is.” She took her hands back from his and tucked in her shirt. As she did, she stepped away and the overwhelming scent that was James and roses began to fade. At once, Ellie’s mind started to clear. “I think, I think it would be best if you were to leave.”

  Confusion warred with rage across his handsome face, and James swept an irritated hand through his rich brown hair. “I don’t understand, Ellie. A moment ago, you couldn’t wait to have my hands on you and now you’re pushing me away? Were you teasing me on purpose?”

  Slightly frightened, she took another step back. “I’m so sorry, James,” she told him honestly. “I never meant to lead you on. I think we both got caught up in the moment and I just, I don’t think we should continue. Please. Please, go. I can’t think when I’m around you.”

  A devilish grin curved his lips and he pulled her to him again. “Then don’t think.” He kissed her long and hard, his tongue probing in and out of her mouth with promising talent. “You know you want to be mine.” He reached between her legs again, but this time Ellie stopped him.

  “No. James, you need to leave.” It took every ounce of willpower she had, but she managed to walk away from him, disappearing into the kitchen. Leaning against the wall, Ellie struggled to catch her breath. She knew he was angry and for that, she was sorry. But she had to get away from him or who knew what would have happened. It wasn’t until she heard the front door slam behind him that she could finally think clearly again. What had he done to her? Yes, something about this place seemed to have awakened her innate sexual nature and for that she was extremely grateful (who knew sex could be so amazing?), but letting a man who scared her take her in the entrance hall of her ancestral home was just too much.

  Ellie braced herself against the counter where the vase of roses sat and rested her head against the cold, marble counter. He had suggested they move to the bedroom, she conceded, recalling how his lips had felt against her neck. And so what if they had stayed in the foyer? So what if they got caught? Hadn’t she just made love to Matt in a public place the day before?

  Matt. Just the thought of him forced her mind to clear. Alarmed, she glanced up. The roses. All her thoughts about James started with the roses. “Eileen!” she called as loud as she could, backing away from the vase. “Eileen!”

  The housekeeper’s footsteps thudded down the back stairs into the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am?” Eileen answered, looking slightly put out and disheveled from her trek down the stairs. “You called?”

  Ellie nodded. “I’m going to take a nap in my room. If Matt comes, please send him up.” Taking a deep breath, she turned to leave. “Oh, and Eileen?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Burn the roses.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “He’s got some kind of power over me,” Ellie told Matt an hour later. She was sitting on her bed with a blanket around her shoulders, staring into the fire. “I don’t even like the man, but it was like I couldn’t think of anything but him. It was disturbing.”

  Matt’s expression was carefully blank, but every once in a while, she could detect a hint of rage in his clear blue eyes. She only hoped it wasn’t directed at her. “Did he touch you?” Matt asked, his voice coated in liquid steel.

  “Yes.”

  “Did he…” his voice broke off, and he swallowed back whatever he was feeling. The strength that too was admirable. “Did he rape you?”

  Ellie’s eyes widened. “No! No, Matt, he didn’t. It didn’t get that far.”

  Matt’s relief was evident. He nodded. For a moment, he did nothing more but stare into the flames. Then, as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up and began to pace. “How did he do it?” he wondered out loud. Ellie was nearly positive he wasn’t actually speaking to her. “How did he convince you that you wanted him?”

  She pursed her lips, unable to believe what she was going to say. “I think it was the roses.”

  “The what?”

  “He brought me roses. Red ones. He brought me an entire bouquet as an apology.”

  Matt turned sharply. “An apology for what?”

  Ellie bit her lip. He wasn’t going to like this. “Well, last night after I got home, James turned up. He said he had tickets to the theater and he wanted me to go. I said no.”

  “Why?” He couldn’t hide the accusation.

  “Because I wasn’t interested, that’s why,” she replied, a little heat snapping in her voice. “I had just returned from seeing you, hadn’t I? And after our…encounter, it didn’t seem like the best idea to go traipsing around town with another man, especially one I had no desire to be with, did it?”

  To her delight, Matt had the good grace to look ashamed. A slow smile spread across his lips and he reached out for her hand, pressing a kiss to each of her fingers in turn. “No, I don’t suppose it did.” Despite herself, Ellie rolled her eyes. “So, what do the roses have to do with anything?”

  “Oh. Well, they smelled nice. And, after I caught wind of the scent, my thoughts and feeling about James, and about you, began to change.”

  “Change how?”

  “I started thinking that there was nothing between the two of us, that we hadn’t spoken of feelings or loyalty, and in fact, had just met, so if I wanted to spend my time with James instead, I was perfectly within my rights to do so.”

  “All true.”

  “Yes, well,” Ellie said with a wry laugh, “true as it may be, it didn’t make those thoughts mine. Every time I got close to the bouquet, my so-called feelings for him would increase. When I stepped away, I felt more like me again.

  “And then there was the man himself. He practically cornered me the moment I came back into the room, and he smelled of the roses as well. If it was an enchantment he was using, I’m pretty sure he used it on himself. He was, um, seductive.”

  “I just bet he was,” Matt said darkly, and guilt formed a ball in Ellie’s throat. Matt must have noticed. He ran his hands up and down her arm before pulling her to him. She rested her head against his chest. “I don’t blame you, Ellie. From what I can tell, his family is a bit backwards in matters of the heart. Actually, I brought something for you. My sister helped me find it.”

  Rifling through his bag at the foot of the bed, Matt pulled out a large scroll of parchment. From the discoloration, she would guess it was several hundred years old.

  Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wow, where did you get that?” She watched eagerly as he unrolled the artifact and spread it out over the bed.

  “It was at the museum. I had to dig for it—and enlisted a little help—but it’s definitely interesting. Look. It’s your family tree.”

  Sure enough, Ellie found herself staring down at an illustrated history of the Hargrove family, accented by handwritten notes that seemed to connect the Hargroves to love interests and family friends. She ran her fingers across the surface of the paper in wonder. It was amazing that this was her family when she had never met any of them. She scanned the faces of her relatives done in intricate brushstrokes and vivid color. It was clear the artist had taken a lot of time on them.

  At the bottom of the page, she found a dark-haired girl of maybe twenty years old smiling back at her. Anne Elizabeth Hargrove was written beneath the picture. Tears filled Ellie’s eyes as she stared down into her mother’s face. “I haven’t felt this close to her in more than ten years,” she said quietly, her finger lightly brushing her mother’s cheek.

  “Is that your mom?” Matt asked, peering over her shoulder.

  “Yeah. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

  He nodded. “She looks a bit like you, actually.”

  “Oh, she does not,” Ellie replied, but she chuckled just the same. “She’s much prettier than I could ever hope to be.”

  Gripping her fac
e, Matt forced her to look at him. “Now I know that’s not true. You’re a bit shy, to be sure, but you are beautiful.” Brushing his lips against hers, he kissed her softly. “Don’t ever forget it.”

  Her smiling face heating with embarrassment, Ellie turned back to the parchment. How did she get so lucky as to meet such a sweet man? Matt really was…

  “Matt, that’s you!” Pointing to a man on the parchment, Ellie set her finger on the portrait of one, Matthew McKinnon. He looked exactly like the Matt McKinnon sitting next to her.

  “No way. Possibly the father of Elizabeth’s child,” he read incredulously. “Wait, that old story was true?”

  “It must be,” Ellie said, looking down the line at his connection. “And look, here’s Elizabeth Hargrove and…and Lord James Dabney. Oh, my word.” Astonished, Ellie put a hand to her mouth. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

  And yet, it was.

  Her own face stared up at her from Elizabeth Hargrove’s portrait. The same vivid green eyes, the same vibrant red hair. The same curve of chin, cheek, and lips. It was impossible to believe, and still Ellie couldn’t look away from her own face. “I don’t believe it,” she murmured softly, her hands playing over the illustrations.

  “Believe it.” Matt frowned as he stared down at the parchment. Dabney looks just the same, too. And look. Forty-years later, here you are again. And there he is. Twenty years later, twenty-five years later. Your face keeps popping up every generation or so, and every time you die young.”

  Fear crept up her spine and took root deep within her heart. Was an early demise her destiny as well? “What’s the connection?” she asked timidly, alarmed when she heard her voice crack. Offering comfort, Matt took her hand.

  “Dabney is,” he answered, scowling. “Look. In almost every generation, whether your look-a-like shows up or not, there is Lord James Dabney. It’s like he never changes. And yes, the family resemblance between all our lines is uncanny, but I refuse to believe it’s just a coincidence that his face appears exactly the same every time. Nobody has entire family that looks exactly alike. It’s just not possible.”