Flight of Dragons
Page 93
“They aren’t all like these dragons,” he warned.
“Really?” She rolled her eyes and stepped around him. He turned, tugged against his will by her delicate scent and her determined strength.
“Yes, really.”
“I’m aware, Bjorn. But life is for living, and that was one experience I’m glad I took risks for.” She held out her flowers for his dragon to munch on. She didn’t look at him as she took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and squaring off. “As is today.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “I brought lunch.” Warmth spread through his chest as she turned around and gave him a surprised look. “I thought we could sit for a while. You could tell me how you fly so close to the mountain without clipping a wing.”
She laughed and gestured to her dragon. “That’s all him. I just let him go where he wants.”
“Surely there’s more to it than that. Self-talk or…”
Her eyes were dancing as she moved closer. “Don’t you trust yourself, Brother Bjorn?”
Not on any level. “I told you—”
“I know. Just use your name. But the way you’re looking at me, I feel like a reminder that you are also a monk is probably in order.”
So he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding how captivating he found her. “Apologies.”
“No, don’t be sorry.” She gave him a wicked smile that made his muscles burn. “I like it. Part of the whole risky experience thing.”
“Are you an adrenaline junkie?”
They were close now, just a foot apart, and Bjorn’s right hand swung out. He caught himself at the last second, just before he grabbed her hip. But as he returned his now-clenched fist to his side, she moved closer still. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt tugged around by the chemistry between them.
Her eyes were deep brown, not flashing black as he’d thought before, and she had the palest dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her eyelashes were dark brown, an odd contrast to her blonde hair, but he liked it. They framed her knowing gaze just right.
“I don’t do things just for the thrill of it, if that’s what you mean.” As she talked, the tip of her tongue darted out, swiping nervously at her lower lip. Pink, wet skin would be his undoing.
He stared at her mouth. “What about your…friend? That you kissed?”
She laughed and blinked up at him. “Is there a question in there?”
“What…” He stumbled over the question and fell silent. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and didn’t know how to frame the right question.
Britt’s face softened and her eyes kept a lock on his as she tilted her head to the side. “She is married. And a fragile, needy soul. Her husband gave us his blessing to keep each other occupied while we were here. And I kissed her because it felt good, not because it was an illicit thrill. I didn’t even know you were watching.”
“I wasn’t watching.”
She searched his face with those too-clever eyes. “No, I bet you didn’t. You looked away immediately.” Any relief he felt at that acknowledgment faded fast as she kept talking. “But you’ve thought about it since?”
He couldn’t deny her that truth. He nodded.
“And now you want to know what and why and how and when and who I kiss, and if it’s reckless?” She spoke each word softly, but they weren’t served gently. A warning that she didn’t want to be judged for her actions.
That wouldn’t be a problem. All of Bjorn’s judgement was pointed at himself.
He couldn’t tell her that the only thought he’d had was wondering what her mouth tasted like and if she mewled like that for men. If she would for him.
And maybe no one else, ever again.
“We should eat lunch and then get back,” he said, his words sagging with the reluctance he didn’t want to feel. He shouldn’t seek out private moments with this woman. Two lines from Scripture, the Book of James, rang through his head. Each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. Avoiding temptation had been his guiding light for years. And in one day, he’d lost sight of that clear path.
Nothing was clear any longer.
***
Britt could see the conflict warring inside Bjorn. He was close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his brawny body. He’d almost touched her side, and the way he was looking at her mouth made her wet and desperate.
She took a step back. She wouldn’t be his undoing, not unless he asked her first.
Then all bets were off.
This man. She shook her head, trying to knock loose the possessive urges growing inside her.
Tried.
Failed.
Stepped back another foot. “Lunch sounds great.”
And it was. He spread a soft, worn blanket on the smooth rock in front of a cave opening and set out cold meat, pickled salad, apples, and even a few pieces of chocolate. As they ate, they talked about dragons and she filled him in on gossip from the capital city.
“There’s a steady influx of Earth tourists now. Won’t be long before they come in this direction.” The only reason they hadn’t yet was because there weren’t any spaceports on this continent, and travel within the atmosphere was restricted to official government shuttles.
But the writing was on the wall—tourism meant an increase in desperately needed revenue, so what the Earthlings wanted to see, they would get to see.
The thought made Britt’s stomach turn over.
Bjorn clearly felt the same way. He pulled his knees up in front of him and wrapped his arms around them. Every muscle in his body flexed as he stared out over the valley far below them. “They’re not welcome here.”
“Make that clear to this group of visitors, then.”
He gave her a hard look. “I’m making it clear to you.”
“I’m not one of them. I’m the hired help who got on the trip because Inge thinks I’m cute and I happen to know how to ride. I have no authority.”
“And if you did?”
Why did this feel like a test? Well, if it was, she’d pass with flying colours. She had no doubt that her feelings about turning The Outerlands into a throw-back spectacle for wealthy Earthlings would be right in line with Bjorn’s. “I’d make the entire continent a national park and severely restrict access. Guided visits only.”
“Because…” He dropped his chin, hooding his gaze. But he still looked at her. She felt his scrutiny burning into her skin.
Ah. So it was a test. “Because these beasts were here first. And they’re not like other animals. This is their home and they need to be protected. Or they will fight back, and it will be…” She shivered, thinking of the destruction the dragons could cause before being taken down by man-made weapons. “It wouldn’t be their fault. No, we need to keep the mountain range safe for them.”
He nodded slowly, and with each thoughtful dip of his head, he relaxed bit by bit.
She edged closer. “I think we were meant to find each other, Bjorn.”
“I have no doubt,” he said gruffly.
“You say that like it might not be a good thing.” Maybe it was her turn to test him. What were they doing on the top of this mountain, anyway?
He turned his head toward her. The wind wasn’t strong—the weather had stayed surprisingly calm all afternoon—but his hair still ruffled in the breeze. He hadn’t shaved for a few days and his strong jaw was covered in the start of a dark beard. From his broad shoulders to his corded, hair-dusted forearms, he made an achingly perfect picture of masculinity, but it was the tortured look in his eye that undid her.
“Whatever happens…” she started, her voice cracking into an emotion-filled whisper.
He shook his head. “Don’t. I know what I want to happen.”
She couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask. But she held her breath as he closed the gap between them, not daring to move a muscle as he duste
d his fingertips over her cheek and down her neck, because if this wasn’t really happening, she still wanted the fantasy.
If he wasn’t going to kiss her, she’d imagine that he was, and it would have to be enough.
He groaned her name. She closed her eyes as he cupped the back of her neck, his fingers strong and warm against her skin. Time paused as he held her, as her pulse pounded in her neck and her mouth watered for a taste of him, and then she got that very wish.
Bjorn’s lips brushed against hers, and his next groan wasn’t decipherable as her name or a curse or anything, muffled as it was because they crashed together.
Their first touch had nothing on the fiery electricity zinging off them in all directions as he commanded entrance to her mouth. She gave it most willingly, delighting in how sure and skilled his tongue was.
Oh, her monk could kiss.
Britt might die now from happiness, and what a shame that would be, because she didn’t want to miss what would hopefully come next.
She gasped as he moved his mouth down her neck. Dragging a fresh inhale into her chest, she whimpered with pleasure as his other arm swept around her waist, tucking her tight into the curve of his larger body. He kissed her again, deeper and more insistent this time.
More insistent.
How was the that possible?
The first one had demanded everything she had, and she’d given it freely. Now he was giving back, stoking the fire deep inside her, urging her to burn bright.
She’d swear the raindrops falling on their skin should sizzle off, evaporate from the searing heat between them—
Rain.
Out of nowhere, dark clouds had rolled in and opened up above them.
If she had any faith at all, she’d say someone didn’t like them kissing.
5
Pulling further away Bjorn’s tight embrace, Britt blinked up at the sky. Where had those storm clouds come from?
His reaction was delayed, but once he noticed that the heavens were crying all over them, he leapt to his feet. With the most polite of curses—as he was still very much a monk, despite kissing like a man starved for sin—he swept her into his arms.
“Into the cave,” he barked out like an order, although she didn’t have a choice in the matter since he was carrying her.
Britt barely had time to ask about the dragons before the leathery flap of wings told her they were flying for cover of their own.
“They’ll be fine,” Bjorn said, his voice strained as he deposited her back on the ground at the mouth of what looked like a large cave. An overhanging rock provided some protection from the rain, but they’d have to move further into the top of the mountain if the wind picked up.
“And will we?” She smoothed her hands down her midsection, urging her quivering belly to chill out.
He didn’t answer. That didn’t help.
“Bjorn?”
He dashed into the rain, his feet sliding on the wet rock. Britt’s heart leapt into her throat as he skidded toward their lunch and blanket, now soaked. At least he’d already tucked the rest of their food back into the satchel, so he didn’t need to gather it up, just snatch and dart back into the cave.
It was still foolish.
“You should have left it,” she gasped as he shook off the raindrops.
He gave her a baleful look. “The blanket may not dry enough to be of use to us, but this is our only food until the storm passes. No way am I letting you go hungry.”
“Oh.” That was smart. And kind. “But running on the wet rock like that…”
He grinned at her with a boyish playfulness she hadn’t seen before. “Worried about me?”
Yes. “I think you might be a bit of an adrenaline junkie as well.”
His grin got wider, but then it fell away. “We should start a fire. We’ll be here for a while.”
She glanced around. “With what?”
He moved past her, into the gloomy damp darkness. She could just make out his form as he stooped low, leaving the blanket there and returning quickly with an armful of small logs and sticks.
“That’s convenient.”
“I come here from time to time. A few times I’ve slept overnight.”
That made sense. There probably was nowhere on the planet closer to the heavens.
Which reminded her that he was a monk—not that she’d ever forgotten, it just had slipped from top of mind while he’d been devouring her mouth. “I’m sorry. That we’re going to be here for a bit. Will it cause trouble for you?”
“No.” He gave her a clear, unblinking look that told her a lot. It said this would be fine, but this would also be the end
“Then I’m sorry about the kiss,” she said stiffly. “That was…complicating, I suppose.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Of course I do. We got carried away out there, but now it’s clear you don’t want to be up here with me.” It wasn’t really, but the words were spilling fast now, faster than she could think and review them and not say something she’d regret.
There was zero chance she’d escape being trapped in a cave with this man who’d gotten deep under her skin without him knowing how a simple kiss had affected her.
Nothing simple about that kiss.
Fair point.
How a crazy, off-the-charts, world-rocking kiss had affected.
How dare he—
“Enough thinking, Britt.” He sighed, a new line appearing on his forehead as he frowned at her. “Your ears are smoking. I don’t want to know what the gears are doing inside that beautiful brain of yours, but let’s get a fire going. Then we can talk.”
The next hour passed in silence. He started a fire and she rigged a drying rack for the blanket from some sticks on the pile of wood near the back of the cave.
Bjorn’s imposed quiet time gave her a chance to take stock of their temporary lodgings. The cave was the same height and width as an average room, but much longer. Dry, with as flat a floor as one could hope for in a space carved out of a mountain top.
When she couldn’t handle the sound of nothing but wind and rain and crackling wood, she sat on one of the two heavier logs Bjorn had set next to each other beside the fire.
He watched her for a moment, then joined her. “I’m not well-practiced in this.”
“This?”
“Fighting.”
“With a woman?”
“With anyone.”
The weight of his goodness got a little heavier with each word. “I already said I was sorry.”
“And I already said you had nothing to be sorry for. What’s wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. “You kissed me! And then the rain started, and everything changed. And I get that, because hello, wake up call. Right?”
He didn’t answer right away, and as one second rolled into another, the air in the cave warmed. Just a bit—a hint of a thaw.
Or maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see.
He finally shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
“Because you’re a monk.” He looked surprised that she was going there, but maybe it needed to be laid out in the open. “And because I’m not…what?”
“There’s no and. I’ve dedicated myself to a difficult path. How torn I am has nothing to do with you. You are perfect.”
She snorted. “You don’t know me. I’m far from perfect.”
“I want to know you, though. Every inch of you, starting with your heart.”
Her breath caught in her chest.
He sighed. Damnit, why did he have to pair such a beautiful thing to say with such a sad sound? “See? It is complicated.”
“Hmmm.” She rubbed her hands together, then held her palms toward the flames. “Nice fire.”
“Thank you.” He let them fall into silence again, but this time it didn’t feel cold. Complicated—Bjorn’s favourite word, clearly—but no longer cold. And when he spoke again, he followed her lead in directing the conversation to so
mething more neutral. “Tell me more about your first visit to The Outerlands.”
She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees, and did just that. She told him about working as a horse trainer, and leaping at every travel opportunity because even before she’d known about the homesteading opportunities here, something had itched between her shoulder blades. Something that said, your home is elsewhere.
They talked until his stomach growled, then they ate a careful amount of the remaining food, leaving plenty in case they were trapped there another day. Bjorn showed her a safe nook just outside the cave where she could relieve herself when she finally admitted she needed to pee—and at least the rain helped her wash her hands.
She liked roughing it, but going without a river or a hot spring was not her idea of a good time.
Being alone with Bjorn, though, was—even though the evening came without any more kissing. He was funny and smart, and as long as they stuck to their shared history of growing up near the capital city and wanting desperately to escape, he was pretty open about himself as well.
“I have a motorcycle,” he said unexpectedly, proving that he could share secrets with the best of them.
She could feel her mouth drop open. “That wasn’t what I expected you to say.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah.”
“Do you ride it?”
“A couple times a month.”
“Neat.”
He laughed, and she rocked against him, brushing her shoulder against his. It felt good to share a laugh like this.
“Can I ask about it?”
He shifted next to her. “How do you know there’s a story there?”
“Because you brought it up. And also because you shipped it across an ocean to a place where nobody will ever see it.”
“Yeah.”
“So…”
His fingers grazed her forearm and she shivered.
“Don’t distract me. You brought it up.”
“Are you cold?”
She laughed and got up to check on the blanket, now dry. “I’m not, but I might stretch out on this.”