Dragon Lord

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Dragon Lord Page 7

by Dragon Lord (lit)


  She was that close.

  It ought to be illegal, she thought resentfully, for a man like that to be allowed anywhere in the vicinity of a starving woman. She was surprised women weren’t attached to the man all over like limpets.

  On the other hand, that might be why he never went anywhere. He was afraid of being mobbed.

  “You carry the tray and follow me,” Mrs. Higgenbottom announced when she’d arranged the plates with the next course. “And pay attention so that you’ll know the proper order to serve.”

  Raina made a face at the woman as she followed her through the dining room door. Unfortunately, she didn’t discover until she’d done it that, although Ms. Hatchet-face couldn’t see her, the men at the table could and they were looking right at her when she did it. Embarrassed and completely unable to keep her color from fluctuating, she compensated by turning her nose up at them as she stalked behind Ms. Higgenbottom to the table.

  Mrs. Higgenbottom gave her a stern look as she removed the soup bowl and carefully settled a plate in front of Mr. Draken.

  “What?” Riana asked, all at sea.

  The woman actually rolled her eyes. “Observe!” she hissed.

  “Oh!”

  She removed Mr. Smith’s soup bowl next and set his plate in front of him. “Mr. Smith,” she said in an undertone, “likes his meat rare.”

  Raina looked at Mr. Smith doubtfully.

  He smiled at her and winked. She bit her lip to keep from smiling back at him. Diverted by his flirtatious interest, she almost ran into Ms. Hatchet face as she moved around the table and stopped abruptly because she was still looking at him when the woman stopped. The housekeeper glared at her. “Mr. Black likes his meat medium.”

  Raina frowned, abruptly uneasy about where all this careful instruction seemed to be leading. “Does this mean I’m going to have to cook, too?” she demanded in a loud whisper when the woman turned her back on her and moved to other end of the table. “Because I have to tell you I’m not worth a shit at cooking. They’re all going to get it rare in the middle and black on both sides, because I really don’t have the patience for cooking. I did say that when I applied. I distinctly remember telling you I couldn’t cook ….”

  The last word was muffled by Ms. Higgenbottom’s hand as she clapped it over Raina’s mouth. Raina glared at her over the hand and then stuck her tongue out before she thought better of it. Ms. Higgenbottom snatched her hand back and gritted her teeth at her. Raina wiped her tongue on the shoulder of her shirt, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t tell me where you’ve had that hand because I do not want to know!”

  Mr. White snorted his wine and fell into a fit of coughing. Mr. Black spat a mouthful of wine into his plate and then stared down at it in disgust for a moment. Finally, he shrugged and picked up his knife and fork.

  Raina sent him a commiserating look. “That’s nearly as bad as dropping it on the floor. It’s your germs, after all. And they do cook them in wine sometimes. It’s supposed to enhance the flavor,” she whispered.

  Ms. Hatchet-face grabbed her arm and practically hauled her out of the dining room.

  “Exactly what was that all about?” the woman had the nerve to demand.

  Raina slammed the tray full of bowls down on the closest counter and glared at her. “That’s what I’d like to know! Lady! I’ve got a lot of patience, but if you manhandle me again you’re going to draw back a nub!”

  It was at that point that Hatchet-face lost her contacts and breathed fire.

  Smoke, anyway.

  Raina observed the twin streams of smoke that emerged from her nostrils with more than a little surprise. “Hey! I didn’t know you smoked!”

  Someone grabbed her from behind and swung her in a dizzying circle. She didn’t stop until she slammed into a chest that felt like a brick wall. A hand settled on each side of her head even as she began to tip her head back to see who’d grabbed her. She met Mr. Smith’s mouth in descent.

  She was too disordered to react with more than a jolt of surprise. As his firm lips settled over hers, melding flesh to flesh in gentle adhesion; as his breath filtered into her mouth, merged with her own and then descended into her lungs and spread throughout her body, borne away by the blood pumping frantically through her heart; as he thrust his tongue into her mouth in bold conquest and filled her senses with the taste of him, a dizzying thrill went through her. Warmth rose up to envelope her.

  Doubt flooded her.

  She lifted her hands and placed her palms against his chest, above his heart, intending to thrust him away. She liked his taste and touch, though, enjoyed his scent as it became a part of her, relished the floating, dizzying intoxication of her senses, and, without consciously making a decision, instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into his shirt. The tension of doubt and surprise uncoiled from her muscles and she swayed closer, relaxed her jaw to give him better access.

  She felt a shudder ripple through his body as she closed her mouth around his tongue and sucked at it. She felt her body quicken, warmth and moisture and a gentle rippling of the muscles within her sex.

  He tensed. She thought for a moment that he would bring her more tightly against him. Instead, he withdrew his tongue from her mouth, sucked gently at her lips and finally lifted his mouth from hers.

  For the space of several heartbeats, she remained perfectly still, waiting, hoping he would kiss her again. Finally, languidly, she lifted her eyelids. He was staring down at her lips intently, hunger in his eyes. As if he caught the movement of her lids, however, he met her gaze.

  She caught her breath at the heat in his eyes.

  And then she caught a glimpse of something in her peripheral vision and her eyes automatically swiveled.

  And a jolt went through her.

  Simon Draken was staring down at her, his expression nearly as taut and filled with need as Mr. Smith’s, except anger mixed generously with his passion, or maybe spawned it. Instinctively, Raina shrank from that look, molding herself more tightly to Mr. Smith since he was blocking her retreat.

  And behind him stood the others.

  Raina crashed to Earth and burned. Still more than a little confused with the heat surging through her, she glanced up at Mr. Smith, glanced at the others, and then abruptly released her grip on Mr. Smith’s shirt and pushed past him to put a little distance between herself and the men--because all of them were looking--hungry--and she couldn’t think of anything more unsettling than being the focus of desire of that many men at one time.

  Mrs. Higgenbottom, she saw when she glanced around, was standing at the far corner of the kitchen, speaking in a low voice with Mr. White. The woman’s back was to her, so she had no idea what they were talking about, because Mr. White’s face was carefully devoid of expression. Frowning, she glanced back at the tableau of men crowding the door between the kitchen and the dining room and then looked at Mr. Smith.

  “That was well done,” Simon growled ominously.

  Audric dragged his gaze from Raina and stared at him in tight lipped silence for a moment. “I had to distract her. It was all I could think of,” he said defensively.

  “I do not doubt it.” Simon slid a narrowed gaze at Raina’s reddened, swollen lips, quashed a fresh surge of desire and fury with an effort and looked at Audric again. “It is a very good thing that you did not have time to think of something more distracting else we would have witnessed something far more interesting, I am certain.”

  Audric flushed, but his face went taut with anger.

  “What’s going on?” Raina demanded as her stunned surprise gave way to a rise in anger when she realized they were discussing her in their language. She knew they were. Both of them kept looking at her.

  Simon gave Audric a look of malicious amusement. “Explain it to her.”

  Audric sent Raina a harassed look. Frowning, he fumbled around in his mind for the words he needed for several moments and came up empty. “No … uh ….”

  “Speak,” Simon prom
pted.

  “Speak,” Audric echoed.

  “English.”

  Audric glared at him. “Asshole!” he ground out.

  Simon stared at him for a long moment. “He kissed you to stop the argument,” he said without glancing at Raina. He paused for a long moment. “Because he was concerned that you would be hurt.”

  “What did you tell her?” Audric demanded suspiciously.

  Simon repeated it in their language. After studying him doubtfully for a moment, Audric glanced at Raina cautiously. She was still frowning, he saw, but at least she wasn’t looking at him--at them--as if she suspected she’d been the butt of a nasty prank.

  Simon pushed away from the doorframe abruptly and strode across the kitchen. “Thank you, Tedra, for that delightful exercise in indigestion. I believe I will skip desert,” he said coldly as he passed the woman. He paused at the door and turned to look back her. “See if you can not learn to hold your temper a little better.”

  Mrs. Higgenbottom turned to stare at the door for several moments after he’d left and abruptly burst into noisy tears.

  Raina jumped at the sound, staring at the woman in wide-eyed dismay.

  There was a stampede of men as they vacated the kitchen abruptly.

  Raina stared at the woman guiltily for several moments, wrestled with the urge to leave, and finally expelled an irritated breath. Instead of leaving, she moved to Mrs. Higgenbottom, stood staring at her uncomfortably for a moment and finally lifted a hand and patted her on the shoulder consolingly. “Hey! It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

  Mrs. Higgenbottom sniffed. Her chin wobbled. “He is angry with me.”

  Raina gnawed her lip for a moment. “He’s angry all the time, though, isn’t he?”

  Mrs. Higgenbottom glared at her. “No! I have been with him since he was a … baby and he has never said a cross word to me, not in his entire life! It is your fault!”

  Most of Raina’s empathy dried up at that hateful comment. “My fault? Hey, I didn’t spill one damned thing! And I didn’t start the argument. Why is it my fault?”

  A hand clamped over her shoulder, spinning her around. This time, though, Mr. Smith grabbed her up and tossed her over one broad shoulder. Raina was so stunned she didn’t find her voice until he’d strode from the kitchen with her. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “No, Raina! No, no, no!” he said tightly. “No fight Tedra. Bad ting! Very bad! I turn my back on you for five seconds and you are at it again,” he muttered in his own language. Lady, you have no sense of self-preservation at all! That woman could eat you alive. She is damned near twice your size and she is draconian. She is a hell of a lot stronger than you seem to think she is.

  Raina reared up and tried to break his grip and slide off his shoulder as he headed up the stairs. He popped her on the ass with his palm. Raina gasped in stunned surprise and outrage. Collapsing on his shoulder again, she pounded on him in the general vicinity of his ass--his lower back because she couldn’t reach his ass. “Don’t … you … ever … hit … me … again!” she snarled, emphasizing each word with another slap.

  He ignored her, which only made her madder.

  She glared at him through narrowed eyes when he finally gained her--their--room and set her on her feet.

  Chapter Six

  Audric regarded Raina with a mixture of disbelief, lingering irritation … and amusement. He held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender when she took exception to the faint smile curling his lips. “You seem to have gotten over your uneasiness around draconians, half-pint,” he murmured in his tongue.

  Raina frowned at him uncertainly, feeling her anger begin to taper off at his expression. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying, but I have a feeling you’re counting on that,” she said irritably.

  His dark brows drew together. “No understand.”

  Raina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m going to have to teach you how to speak English, Mr. Smith! If for no other reason than the fact that I’m going to go nuts with only old Hatchet-face to talk to.”

  “Audric.”

  She stared at him blankly.

  He gestured toward himself. “Audric.”

  Surprise usurped her annoyance as it clicked in her mind what he was saying. Allowing her gaze to wander over his face, she found herself smiling back at him. “Audric. I’ve never heard that name before. Should I call you Audric? Or Mr. Smith?”

  “Audric,” he responded firmly.

  Progress. She didn’t know what all that business had been about in the kitchen, or why he’d abruptly gone all Neanderthal on her, but he hadn’t taken exception to her pounding on him--which was a tremendous relief considering she’d been mad enough she hadn’t stopped to consider that it might not be the best idea in the world to provoke Goliath.

  If he was willing to let bygones be bygones and extend the old olive branch, though, she wasn’t going to ignore it. Unfortunately, she didn’t see any way to make any real progress in making friends with him--not when he couldn’t understand much of what she said or vice versa. She heaved a sigh. “Well, Audric, I’m starving. I didn’t get to eat. Do you think, maybe, you could get out of my way so I can go back down to the kitchen and get some food?”

  She thought for several moments that he hadn’t understood any of that when he shook his head.

  “You stay. I get.”

  Raina studied him in surprise and finally nodded. If that was what he wanted to do, she wasn’t going to object. All she cared about at this point was being fed.

  She just hoped he didn’t show up with something like a peanut butter sandwich because she was going to be seriously disappointed.

  * * * *

  Audric met up with Simon as he reached the upper landing with the tray of food.

  Simon studied the tray for several moments and then met Audric’s gaze. “You are smitten,” he said dryly. “Serving the wench instead of the serving wench doing the serving.”

  Audric reddened with irritation. “She is not a wench.”

  “She is not a lady.”

  Audric’s lips tightened. “You did not used to be such an arrogant snob. She is not draconian. Our class system has no bearing on her. And it would not matter to me if it did. I am a bastard.”

  Simon looked at him uncomfortably. “A royal bastard.”

  “But still a bastard.”

  Simon met his gaze for a long moment and finally turned away, descending the stairs.

  Audric frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “For a walk.”

  Consternation filled Audric. He glanced around but he saw no sign of the others. After looking down at the tray he held in his hands, he turned to look toward the room where Raina waited. “Shit!”

  Striding briskly down the hall, he set the tray by the door and rapped on it. He had reached the stairs again when Raina opened the door and peered around. She studied his retreating back until he disappeared. Shrugging, she picked the tray up and went back into the room.

  * * * *

  Simon scowled with irritation when he realized he’d picked up a tail, particularly when he also realized it was Audric … and Audric was responsible for the restlessness that had prompted him to decide to take an evening stroll to start with.

  Haig and Rama had decided to head to the mainland in search of a woman. He’d managed to give Elden and Jorell the slip by waiting until they’d gone down to the gym to work off some of their tension on the equipment, and he’d thought Audric was preoccupied with that woman.

  All he could figure was that she was not nearly as fascinating as Audric pretended or he would not be out following him. He would be with the woman.

  He dismissed that, almost reluctantly, after a moment. Audric was loyal to a fault. He would always put duty before personal desires and he was as convinced as the others that an assassin waited behind every tree and the moment they relaxed their vigilance he was a dead man.

  They
were overzealous to his mind, but they weren’t completely wrong. There’d been a number of attempts over the years--sporadic, just often enough to make certain that they knew they could never relax their guard as long as Jaelen lived. He’d more than half hoped, in the beginning, that one of them would succeed and put him out of his misery. He didn’t know how he felt about it anymore, except that, regardless of what they appeared to believe, he wasn’t seeking his death.

  He needed a woman. That was the biggest part of his restlessness. Since he’d seen that woman, he hadn’t been able to think about much else. It wasn’t her, not really. She was attractive enough, he supposed--not at all to his taste--but she was a woman and it was enough having her twitching her little ass under their noses to make it impossible for any of them to get fucking off the brain, especially when Audric seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

  He frowned at that thought. He’d been studiously trying not to think about that display he’d come upon in the kitchen, primarily because he’d gotten hard watching and every time he’d thought about it since he’d gotten hard all over again until his balls were aching like an abscessed tooth. As much as it went against the grain to take care of his own needs himself, he was not going to get any sleep tonight, he knew, if he didn’t.

  Anger surged through him. Not that he’d had a decent night’s sleep since he’d seen her.

  It occurred to him after a moment, though, that she hadn’t behaved as if she was used to Audric’s kisses. Audric had gone blank faced with raging desire, looked as if he was considering throwing her down right there and then and fucking her on the kitchen floor. He’d been in pretty much the same state himself, though, and it hadn’t occurred to him, then, that Audric had looked far too desperate for someone who’d been assuaging his needs with a woman.

  That didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t been. He might have fucked her just enough to want more and not enough to have had a surfeit yet.

 

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