Table of Contents
Copyright
Books by Isadora Montrose
DRAGON'S TREASURE
SEXY SNEAK PEAK
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BEAR NECESSITIES
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
About the Author
Also by Isadora Montrose
Coming Soon from Isadora Montrose
Dragon’s Treasure
©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016
Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2016
Bear Necessities
©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2015
Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2015
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author, Isadora Montrose.
Warning: These books contain sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.
Also by Isadora Montrose
Lords of the Dragon Islands
Dragon’s Treasure
Dragon’s Successor
Bear Fursuits Books 1-5
Bear Necessities
Bear Possibilities
Bear Affinities
Bear Infinities
Bear Cubs for Christmas (available only in Bear Fursuits Books 1-5 Bundle)
Bachelor Bears of Yakima Ridge
Brides for the Bachelor Bears Bundle
Bearly A Bride (available only in Brides for the Bachelor Bears)
Bearly Begun
Bearly Enough
Bearly Ever
Bearly Forever
Bearly Beloved
DRAGON’S TREASURE
BOOK 1
LORDS OF THE DRAGON ISLANDS
by
ISADORA MONTROSE
SEXY SNEAK PEAK
He had no intention of waiting any longer. It had been more than a week since he had had a woman and he had needs. Dragon-sized needs. He wasn't going to be put on a leash by any piece of tail, no matter how delectable he found her. It was time Leah earned her pay.
If she had given satisfaction, he would bestow her bonus on her. The pearls he would give her whatever. He yearned to see her wearing nothing at all but those lustrous beads. And once given, they would be hers. He contented himself with imagining the efforts her gratitude would inspire her to.
His mind made up, Hugo dove down beneath Leah and revolved so they were swimming belly to belly. He let his naked body rise up under hers so that they touched. He could feel the softness of her flesh cradling him in an embrace that rocked his whole body. He put his arms around her and stood up so that they faced each other in the shallow water.
He let Leah's body slide slowly down his until she stood, breast heaving, looking wonderingly at him in the waist high water. Enjoying her dumbfounded expression, he bent his head and took her mouth with his. It was as if lightning had struck them both. Sparks shot through his body and his entire body felt the jolt. He bucked as if he really had had an electric shock.
Leah had not been kissed in years. Not since reedy Danny Sherman had brought her home from Prom and planted one on her before Grammy opened the front door. Hugo's plunging tongue was nothing like Danny's tentative soul kiss. One moment she was swimming, determined to keep her head, the next she was locked lip to lip with her boss, falling into an all-consuming kiss.
She didn't even notice when his clever fingers pulled the straps of her swimsuit off her shoulders. He had peeled it down her arms and was twirling one rosy, puckered nipple in his long fingers before she could react. And then instead of boxing his wicked ears, she gasped with pleasure and returned his kiss with a vigorous sweep of her own eager tongue.
Hugo laughed into Leah's open mouth. He had known she was ready. He would slake his first urgency here in the sea, and then they could spend the rest of the afternoon making leisurely love in his suite out of the sun. He pushed at her swimsuit to get it over her hips.
When Leah felt Hugo's strong hands sliding over her buttocks, lifting and kneading the taut globes and bringing her into contact with his rigid body, she pressed closer seeking satisfaction. Her heart was beating so fast all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears and their panting breath.
CHAPTER ONE
“You and your brother are wasting your lives,” Stephan Sarkany told his eldest great-grandson. “You should already have sons.” He drew air into his wasted chest and let it out again on a cold and gusty sigh. His frail body was propped up in the ancient tester bed on a multitude of pillows, but nothing served to procure him a full lungful of air.
“I have not yet met my mate, Grandfather,” said Hugo Sarkany respectfully. “One day perhaps. But I have not yet had such good fortune.”
The sight of his great-grandson should have warmed Count Sarkany's heart. Hugo Sarkany was six foot eight, broad shouldered, and loose limbed. Intelligence and determination were written on his chiseled patrician features. But Stephan did not seem pleased by his handsome heir.
Fire burned briefly in the old man's faded golden eyes, and he snorted skeptically at Hugo's courteous rebuff.. “You are lucky, Hugo. It's in our blood to be lucky. But you must not waste your luck—or your youth. You must marry and breed another generation of Sarkany firelings. You and your brother are the only two left of our ancient line.” Stephan drew in a ragged breath and fought for another.
“Be easy, Grandfather,” begged Hugo, placing his large, strong hands over Stephan's thin, frail one. The skin was almost translucent and in the bulging purple veins the blood moved sluggishly. The Eldest of their House was dying. “I will marry when I find my mate.” The words were a vow.
Stephan inhaled shallowly into his ravaged lungs. “You are getting older,” he warned. “You do not have many years left in which to breed. And if you don't search you will not find your mate. You will wind up an old, immortal dragon sitting on his hoard, longing for death.”
“Is immortality such a curse, Eldest?” asked Hugo.
“If you have no mate, it is the doom of eternal loneliness.” Stephan's breath rattled in his throat. “I
t's not true immortality if your body withers into solitary dust atop your treasure store, leaving your soul hungry. You must marry and beget heirs.”
“I promise, Grandfather.”
“Where is your brother? Why is Ivan not here?” the Eldest asked querulously.
“He only left for a few moments, Grandfather. He will return soon. Be easy. Look, here he comes.”
Another tall, masculine aristocrat came into the Count's bedroom. He too had inherited his dark hair and gold eyes and bone structure from the Eldest of their House. At the sight of the listless body in the great four poster, sorrow etched lines on his handsome face. He looked a question at his brother.
Hugo nodded. Ivan knelt beside the high bed and bowed his head over his grandfather's left hand. Hugo took the Count's cold right hand in his own warm clasp. Together they held onto the emaciated hands as the life fell out of the eighth Count Sarkany in the presence of his lieutenants.
* * *
“You need to marry, Hugo,” said Ivan Sarkany to his brother. He gazed uneasily at the portraits that looked down at them from the dark wood paneling of the library. The ancestors stared back haughty and unblinking. “It's your duty to make babies.”
Hugo looked gloomily at his younger brother. “We both should marry and procreate. I promised the Eldest at his death. He was full of dark forebodings of a lonely old age with nothing but gold to comfort us.”
Ivan assessed his brother over the rim of his wine glass. They were both in the prime of their lives. They towered over most mortals. They were muscular, strong limbed, flat bellied, broad of chest and thick of thigh. Their dark hair was glossy and nearly black. They were beloved of women. Old age seemed a long time away. Particularly for dragon shifters.
The room they were lounging in was richly appointed in the fashion of their great-great-grandparents, but they scarcely noticed the ornate draperies and intricately gilded furniture. They were used to this opulent, over-furnished library, as they were used to the rest of the Schloss Sarkany.
The schloss had been built high in the Swiss Alps in the sixteenth century as a hunting lodge by the fourth Count. But since the abandonment of their twelfth century castle in Hungary, this sprawling castle had been home to the Sarkanys. They had other houses and apartments all around the globe. But this dark residence, overlooking the great stones the locals called The Dragon's Bones, was where they had been reared.
Ivan leaned back in his deep armchair, his dark clothes blending with the forest green of the thick velvet upholstery. “We should hold your ceremonies soon,” he said. “And you should announce a mate hunt right afterwards.”
“All in good time, brother. Hugo sipped his wine reflectively. “Great-grandfather told me that if we did not mate, we would turn to dust over our treasures. Do you think that's why we have no very old dragons hanging around our castle? Unless you believe those stones below are indeed the bones of our ancestors.”
“You're being flippant,” Ivan reproached him. “But Great-grandfather always said that if we didn't mate we would just wither away. He was right—dragons do need strong mates to be happy and have a long life.”
Hugo snorted disdainfully and let flame flicker around his nostrils. “Well he claimed to be two hundred and thirty years old when he died. If he was telling the truth. But in any case, I will defer my investiture until our period of mourning is up.”
“Believe, Hugo. Grandfather lived a very long life. Long enough to seem immortal to ordinary men. He swore to the truth of his great age on his wife's honor. You know nothing is more sacred. And he might have lived longer if he had found a real dragoness to wed.” Ivan raised his glass to the portrait of a sternly visaged dowager in tiara and satin draperies that hung opposite the fireplace. “To your great good health, Lady Sarkany,” he said solemnly.
“Do you really think that one was a dragon born?” asked Hugo eying the portrait of his great-great-great-grandmother with searching eyes. “I've never yet met a female dragon who hadn’t been turned. Not one. Great-grandmamma was mortal. So was grandmother. And mom. I don't know that I believe that female dragons are naturally born.”
Ivan blinked his golden eyes. He chuckled. “I think that Amelia, Lady Sarkany looks fierce enough to have been a dragoness born. And that is what we were taught as boys. But it is equally true our entire race runs to sons. You get yourself a virgin and breed some little firelings to carry on the family name.”
Hugo stretched out his long legs and smiled sardonically. “Virgins are rarer than unicorns,” he objected. “Rarer than dragonesses.”
Ivan looked concerned. “Has to be a virgin if you want to turn her,” he said earnestly. “Otherwise, you won't have any young. No firelings at all.”
Hugo snorted rudely. “Maybe it's time to put an end to the Sarkany dynasty. I don't know if the modern world is has room anymore for twenty-four foot long, fire-breathing, flying reptiles. Not much call for armor plated monsters.
“We dragons have given up fighting the battles of mortal kings. We trade these days, instead of pillaging. We seldom stretch our wings. Perhaps it's time we faded away.”
In the firelight, Ivan's hard face might have been carved from adamantine. He drew himself to his feet, a dragon roused. Flames leapt from his nostrils in his wrath. “You gave your word, Lord Sarkany. Don't bring a curse down on our line by breaking your vow to the Eldest. Seek a virgin. Woo her. Breed firelings.”
Hugo made a face. “Great-grandfather is dead, brother, and his world with him. My world is full of beautiful women. Why should I restrict myself to just one, and deprive all the others? You be careful, you'll set fire to the draperies.”
Ivan exhaled gustily and the tongues of flames went out. “You mock our heritage at your peril, Hugo. Don't joke about your destiny,” he urged his brother. “You are sneering what you should revere. You should begin your bride hunt as you promised. Do not doubt your fate.”
“I’ve yet to meet a woman who was not more in love with my hoard than with Hugo Sarkany. Do you think my fated virgin would be any different?” Cynicism dripped from his words.
“They say dragons love forever,” Ivan reminded his brother. “Your destined mate is out there waiting for you.”
Hugo reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. He gave Ivan another sardonic glance and shook his head as if amazed at his brother's naiveté. “Keeping her virginal legs crossed until I arrive.” He laughed bitterly. “What are the odds, that I'll meet a virgin, fall in love, and persuade her she wants to become a dragon—and have a fireling, or two or three?”
Ivan sat back down and restrained his temper. “It's traditional to deceive the virgin,” he reminded Hugo more calmly. “Once she's changed, there's not much she can do. She must accept that she herself is a dragon who is bonded forever to her lord.” He shrugged unconcerned.
“You know, that's the place the old stories always end. But I always thought that was where the trouble would begin.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Tell me why you think you would be a good fit at Executive Services, Leah?” Abby Markham asked, her eyes on the form before her, rather than on the candidate who was seated on the other side of her desk.
Leah St. George straightened her spine, squared her already erect shoulders, and smiled politely— in case Ms. Markham looked at her. Because I need a job and I need it now. Duh. “I am adaptable,” she said, trying to look competent and efficient and enthusiastic. “I think Executive Services could use a temp on the books who can walk into a new place and turn her hand to anything.”
Leah had spent money she didn't have to make sure her blonde hair fell in shining waves to her shoulders. Her face was carefully made up and she was wearing her best, her only, wool suit. But it didn't seem as if she was impressing her prospective employer. She tried her widest smile, the one that showed her dimples.
Abby barely glanced at her before making a note on her clipboard. She peered at Leah's CV on her computer screen, scrolled down, an
d moved on to the next question. “I see you haven't been employed for three years,” she said disapprovingly.
Leah kept her broad smile on her face through sheer determination. “It depends on your definition of employment,” she said firmly. “I gave up my job at Lever Security Systems to be my grandmother's full time caregiver. She had Alzheimer's. But I've been writing code freelance for the last three years.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Hmm, I have clients all over the US,” said Leah. “My client list is private, but I can provide some references if you would like.”
Abby made another note and consulted her clipboard. “Why are you looking for a job now?”
“My grandmother passed away last month, so I'm free to look for a day job again.” Leah managed her best corporate smile this time, to disguise how sad those words made her feel. “I would prefer a job in IT, but while I'm waiting, I would be an asset to your team.”
Ms. Holden scratched at her clipboard with a pen. Her finger moved down her list on to the next question and the interview continued for another twenty minutes. At last she stood up. “We'll be letting the successful candidates know next week,” she said dismissively, running censorious eyes over Leah's figure.
Leah stood up and let her navy skirt fall into place just below her knees. Nothing she could do about her bosom or hips. They were as nature made them. Abundant. She held out her hand even though the other woman didn't seem to want to go through the bother of the social niceties. “Thank you for your time,” she said pleasantly.
Abby watched Leah's tall, curvaceous body leave the office and her lips made a moue of distaste. She wrote on her clipboard and used her phone to speak to reception. “Send the next one in, Maddy,” she said.
* * *
“So did you get the job?” asked Beverley Simpson as she and Leah drank coffee at the Laughing Goat. Beverley was as dark as Leah was fair. Her glossy black hair framed her dark brown eyes and brought attention to her wide cheerful mouth.
Leah had tugged her carefully arranged hair into an untidy bun on the top of her head and fastened it with a stick, just to get it off her neck. Curls fell artlessly around her face. She looked much less prim with her hair in disarray, thought Beverley. But what the heck, it was hot even for Atlanta. And Leah needed to loosen up a little.
Dragon's Treasure (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 1) Page 1
