“She is a treasure, Lord Ivan,” Lindorm said solemnly. “She is, beyond doubt, the Treasure of the House of Lindorm. Should we let her go to a commoner?” he asked generally.
“Certainly not,” said Sven. “Severn?”
Severn favored Ivan with feral grin. “She is worthy of the highest rank,” he growled.
“I agree,” said Lindorm. He ignored Ivan’s scowl and removed something small from the top drawer of his desk. “Hugo,” he said, “Would you bestow this on your brother?”
Hugo approached Lindorm and took the enameled object in his hand. Bewilderment and hope warred on his face. His eyes met Ivan’s. “Here, brother,” he said grandly. “Receive the Honor of our House.”
Ivan picked up the object from Hugo’s palm. His hand made a fist over it, and his eye rounded. “Where did you get this?” he demanded of Lindorm.
“It was hanging on the wall, concealed within the boss of a shield where it has lain for two hundred and thirty-seven years. I retrieved it when we were checking the contents of the Vault. It is the Seal of Sarkany, is it not?”
“It is,” said Ivan and Hugo in unison.
“Then our way is clear to restore the Duchy of Balaur. Will you accept this honor, Ivan Sarkany?” asked Lindorm.
“Of course,” Ivan said. “I’m willing to wear a coronet, if I get to keep my girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“How will they get it into the dining room?” Anna exclaimed in a tone of awed wonder.
Lady Lindorm shrugged. Her pale blue brocade suit shimmered as she moved. “Not our problem.” She peered out the breakfast parlor windows at the open doors of the delivery van that had just pulled into the old stable yard.
“They’ll drop it,” Anna said anxiously. “Perhaps we should ask some of the boys to help?”
“Send Lindorm’s sword bearers to carry a cake? Have you run mad? Besides the bakers wouldn’t thank you for sending our clumsy lads to their assistance.”
“It’s four feet across,” Anna said doubtfully. “And eight feet high. We were crazy to order something so big.” She wrung her hands. “It’s going to end up on the cobblestones.”
Inge patted her sister-in-law’s shoulder gently. “Nonsense. They’ve done this before.”
Two rotund men dressed in sparkling whites pulled at the floor of the van. A massive circular ivory structure appeared on a silver base. Anna clutched Inge’s arm in alarm. Folding legs dropped down and extended as the men pulled on the cake. And there it was: A flat topped mountain of pale pink and buttercup yellow roses surmounting the pale rock against which an ice-blue sea dashed itself.
“Where is the rest of it?” worried Anna. “There’s no castle.” Disappointment filled her voice.
Inge laughed. “The cake is probably in three sections to be assembled only in the ballroom. Come away. It’s too hard to watch. Besides, Chrissy will be wondering where her mother is. And you need to put your dress on.”
Anna looked down at her satin robe. “Oh my goodness. I’m still in my pajamas,” she yelped.
“You have two hours before the ceremony. I will greet any early guests. You go hang out with Chrissy and her bridesmaids.”
* * *
When the doors to the chapel opened, Ivan was as riveted as every other dragon. Lord Severn was wearing morning dress and his blond hair gleamed in the sunshine slanting through the door. On his arm, Christina of Severn was a misty vision in a floor length veil that sparkled where the sun caught the myriad crystals embedded in the sheer fabric.
Behind her stepped her matron of honor, Leah, and behind her came Beatrix and Gretchen van Waals. Christina’s attendants were all wearing Lindorm blue. Christina’s nephew Leo trotted after the bridesmaids, wearing a blue velvet suit and carrying a cushion with the rings. Ivan trusted Leo had been threatened with violence if he took off with his trophy, as he had done last night.
Theo and Victor Lindorm marched behind Leo. They were dressed in their naval officers’ uniforms and medals glittered brightly across their broad chests. Surely such seasoned warriors could control that dragonling if he made a dash for freedom?
In a front pew, Anna Lindorm held a handkerchief in her hand and openly mopped her eyes. Lady Lindorm beamed beside her and patted her arm. Beside Aunt Inge, Uncle Thorvald looked sophisticated, elegant and self-satisfied. And behind them Kayla, Lady Voros cradled a small white bundle that slept contentedly above her bump. His new nephew, Billy St. George Sarkany, was in good hands.
As Chrissy got closer, he could see that beneath her veil she was sleek in white satin. Her dress was trimmed at the hem with a broad band of Lindorm blue embroidered with silver shot through with myriad crystals he feared were real diamonds. Her hands held a trailing bouquet of white flowers whose heady fragrance did not conceal her own ambrosial aroma from him.
A tight lace bodice outlined her upper body snugly. Christina’s lovely shoulders blushed beneath their delicate lace covering. As she moved, the crystals sewn to the bodice and sleeves shot bright rays throughout the room. Diamonds every one. More diamonds sparkled in her ears and in the froth of curls piled high beneath her veil.
Ivan swallowed. She looked so beautiful and she was finally going to be his. Lord Severn halted her just short of Ivan. The bridesmaids arranged themselves behind Christina. Theo and Victor took their places beside Hugo. Leo grinned at him and waved his cushion like a flag. Fortunately, Aunt Inge had experience of dragonlings. She had sewn ribbons to the little pillow and tied the rings down securely.
The officiant said a blessing. He asked who gave this woman to be married. Christina handed her trailing bouquet of white roses and gardenias to Leah, revealing that a sash of the Lindorm blue was secured at her waist with a diamond brooch in the shape of dragon wings. Lord Severn drew Christina’s veil up and tossed it back to reveal her beautiful face. She smiled mistily at her father.
“I do,” Lord Severn said loudly and clearly and placed Christina’s hand in Ivan’s. He bent and kissed her on both cheeks, bowed to Ivan, and went to sit beside his weeping wife. The same electric shock he had felt the first time he touched her, shot through Ivan’s entire body. The priest began to speak. Ivan held his mate’s hand in his and waited for his life to begin afresh.
* * *
The July weather was perfect. The scent of roses from the bushes beneath the formal reception rooms suffused the Chateau. Lady Lindorm had thrown the two largest rooms on the ground floor together by the simple expedient of sliding the paneled doors that connected them open.
Into this massive room, tables had been placed in a wide horseshoe with two very long tails. The flower of European Dragonry had gathered to witness the marriage of the new Duke of Balaur and the Lady Christina of Severn, the first dragoness born to her line in seven hundred years. Of all the great houses, only the Estremauras were absent. But no one was surprised that the Duke and Duchess and their one remaining son did not attend this celebration.
For celebration it was. From the sumptuous repast, to the exchange of fabulous tokens by bride and groom, to the dazzling costume worn by the bride, the Lindorms had thrown the wedding of the century. This century at any rate. The guests were resigned to paying for their dinner by listening to the speeches.
Lord Lindorm spoke first. Certainly the quantity and quality of the champagne was such as to have made the most tedious of addresses bearable. But he kept his speech of welcome mercifully brief, before inviting his guests to make the first of many toasts to the happy couple.
She had a talent for organization, Christina thought wonderingly. Who knew? This entire event was running smoothly. Beneath the table Ivan was playing with her shoe. She shot him a cautionary look. This was no moment for dalliance. Papa was speechifying and then it would be his turn.
Her shoe was now off. Her foot bare except for the sheerest of silk stockings. Something nipped her toes. And then down the center of the room little Leo ran, carrying her blue pump like a torch. The diamond encrust
ed satin flashed under the light from the thousand candles in the four chandeliers.
He was stopped at the door by a brace of sword bearers who relieved him of his booty and bore him off into the gardens, where hopefully the grave they dug would not interfere with the blooming of Aunt Inge’s roses.
And then Ivan was on his feet, taking the shoe from Gunnar and lifting her to stand on her chair. He knelt and replaced her shoe, a Prince Charming come to life. The Seal of Sarkany glittered on a purple and gold ribbon at his throat. And then he made his speech.
“This has been the most important year of my life,” he began. “I have restored the honor of my House, wooed and won the fairest maiden in Dragonry, and am henceforth a married man. I give you my Bride: Christina of Severn, the Treasure of Lindorm has become the Treasure of Balaur.” He bowed to her and drank. And then he winked at her and was her merry, rule-breaking Ivan again.
* * *
Gretchen and Beatrice had very kindly rounded up the youngest Lindorms and taken them to look at the cake now that the meal was over. The children had insisted on being accompanied by the bride and groom. And Lady Severn had come along to admire the cake again. Well, it was the piece de la resistance of the entire wedding. The Castle Lind brought to life with fondant, royal icing and buttercream.
Anna’s piteous scream would have wounded stronger ears than Christina and Ivan’s. Leo and Aidan had found a squadron of toy soldiers and were using a pair of the eighteenth century chairs as step stools. The slices of cake removed from the base for the wedding guests, had given their little hands access to the castle stairs on the third tier of the cake. The tempting presence of so much butter cream was evidenced by their smeared faces and clothes.
A platoon of toy soldiers marched in formation up the castle steps. Archers were embedded behind the crenellated walls. While from the parapets small winged dragons lurked. The Lindorm and Sarkany pennants flew brightly over the defenders of Castle Lind.
“Oh, what have you children done?” cried Anna.
“We’re playing soldiers Grandmamma,” Leo said reproachfully. “You said we could.”
Anna’s shrieks had brought both Viktor and Roland Voros to check on their sons.
“All right, young man,” said Voros, grabbing his heir by the shoulders and holding him well away from his own immaculate garments. “You will make your apologies to the Duchess, and then it’s bedtime for you.”
“But we haven’t had the battle yet!” protested Leo as he was also hauled off by his father to be bathed and put to bed.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Chrissy,” said Anna torn between tears and laughter. “Leo asked me if he could play soldiers with Aidan. I didn’t know he meant on the cake.”
“Where did you get those soldiers, Leo?” Viktor asked.
“Uncle Ivan gaved them to us,” Leo assured his father with a sunny smile. “He said we could fight in the castle.”
It was all too much for Christina. She turned away and hid her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook.
“You gave those firelings soldiers to play with?” demanded Anna in the voice of wrath.
“I did,” Ivan said. “It’s all right, Chrissy, the kids are gone.”
Christina took her hands away from her mouth and let her laughter spill out. “Ivan Sarkany,” she whooped. “What possessed you?”
Ivan shook his head. “I thought the boys would like to play soldiers. And I didn’t think they meant the cake when they said ‘castle’.” He put an arm about her waist.
“You have a lot to learn about firelings!”
“I hope to have to,” Ivan assured her.
“I was going to save the top layers for your first anniversary,” complained Anna.
“It’s all right, Mamma,” Christina assured her still chuckling. “The boys were quite right. What is a castle without soldiers? This story will make a better keepsake than any frozen cake. In twenty years, the only photographs we will care about will be of it like this.”
* * *
Christina crept away from the ballroom. Her feet hurt. Those satin pumps were beautiful but inflexible and she had danced every dance. Ivan was waiting for her in her bedroom. Naked. He had taken off his beautiful suit, his honors and his shoes. She lifted her brows at him. “Aren’t you a little previous, Duke?”
“Not at all. Let’s get you out of that gown. How does it come off?”
Christina eased her feet out of her shoes with a sigh of relief and walked away from them. Ivan stooped to pick them up. “A king’s ransom,” he said disapprovingly.
She shrugged. “Uncle Thorvald insisted. They are a wedding gift.”
He rolled his eyes. “How do you come out of this thing?”
“My gown unbuttons at the back.”
Ivan turned his wife. His eyes widened. He hadn’t previously realized that there were two wide strips of blue satin running from his bride’s waist to the hem of the dress. These matched the hem and were equally encrusted with silver embroidery and diamonds. A row of satin buttons ran from nape to hem, covered at the waist by her wide blue sash. Another huge dragon winked at him from behind her. She smirked at him over her shoulder. “Get busy.”
He was very careful as he undid each little button, but she suspected him of deviousness. Her bodice had been boned and she had not needed to wear a bra with it. Ivan’s gasp as he discovered this was as delicious as his caresses on her back were.
“You’re naked under here.” His deep voice was scandalized against her neck.
“I’m wearing panties and stockings,” she assured him in her most bored voice as he peeled the tight lace sleeves down her arms and revealed her breasts.
He spent a moment cupping them and thumbing the nipples before he helped her to step out of the heavy dress. “How much of the weight of this is diamonds?” he asked folding it in two and laying it on the bed.
“Some.”
“How do you spell Swarovski crystals?” he asked.
“Lindorms don’t wear crystals, Sarkany. We don’t have to.”
“You are wearing the price of a small country on your back.”
“You betcha. Twenty-two hundred and forty-four carets worth,” she said. “And you seem to have overlooked the pearls.”
“I would never overlook your pearl, sweetheart. Do you need some help with those stockings?”
She nodded and he knelt and tenderly moved the tight band down her thigh and off her foot. “Other side,” He murmured, kissing her where her thigh met her sex. She blindly lifted the same foot again. “Other, other side,” he said smugly.
And then she was naked except for her strip of blue lace. He buried his nose in her fluff and breathed in. “I could smell you when you came down the aisle, and when you stood there so demurely, and all through dinner, and when you were dancing. If there weren’t three hundred dragons waiting for us, I would take you right here on your girlhood bed.”
“But there are three hundred dragons waiting on us, three hundred and fifty-two if you count the children and servants — and I do.”
“Yeah. Tradition. Who’d be without it?” He peeled her thong off and kissed her naked bottom. “Let’s go, kiddo.” He opened the shutters to admit the full moon, unlatched the windows, and laid them against the wall as he had done the shutters. “Me first,” he said and stepped up to the sill. He spread his arms and launched himself out over the stable yard.
Christina didn’t wait to see him take dragon in midair. She followed her husband out into the warm summer night. Together, the Duke and Duchess of Balaur on their nuptial flight, splendid in blue and purple plumage, flew around the Chateau to present themselves to the Flower of Dragonry cheering from the south lawn. Here was adventure enough for the rest of her life.
<<<<>>>>
Read about Hugo and Leah’s love story in Book 1: Dragon’s Treasure.
Read about Roland and Kayla’s love story in Book 2: Dragon’s Successor.
BEAR SKIN
A BILLIONAIR
E OIL BEARONS ROMANCE
BOOK 6
BEAR FURSUITS
by
Isadora Montrose
CHAPTER ONE
“Does Uncle Jeremy know you’re heading out?” Laura asked her cousin Zeke Bascom as he loaded his camping gear into the bed of his big red pickup.
Zeke grunted. The harsh planes of his face were grim. Under the fatigues he was wearing, his huge, hard-muscled body was stiff with suppressed fury . He concentrated on arranging his stuff efficiently and didn’t answer.
“And,” Laura probed, handing him a duffel that bulged with canned goods.
“He knows. And he isn’t happy.” Zeke admitted without looking up. He stuffed his bedroll against the box of tools he had moved to accommodate the duffel, and made some space for a second duffel.
Zeke’s beat up old Ford was parked in the circular forecourt of his father’s palatial house, a blemish on its perfect landscaping. Laura’s Quarter Horse Dakota was tied to the cast iron hitching post that Zeke’s latest stepmother, Diana, had left by the porch steps as a nod to the family’s ranching history.
Laura and Zeke’s great-grandfather Clive Bascom had bought the Double B Ranch back in 1946 when he got out of the army. Clive had added to his land until he owned pretty much all the land surrounding Success, Colorado. Finding oil on their ranch had catapulted the Bascoms into the oil business in the fifties. Clive had turned B and B Oil into the largest privately held oil company in the U.S..
Jeremy Bascom’s house was the only one visible in the undulating, snow covered prairie that surrounded the two cousins. But the Double B Ranch was big enough to conceal the several others which had been built by the different branches of the extended clan. Laura had ridden over from the original ranch house which she had shared with her great-grandfather until his death two months ago. Now she, her father and her older brother had made it their home base.
“Will you be back for Christmas Day?” Laura pressed Zeke.
Her cousin’s hard face got harder. “Nope.”
Dragon's Pleasure (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 3) Page 21
