B00CGOH3US EBOK Read online

  He turned a raised brow at her. "Was that intended to be a compliment?"

  "It was." She grinned.

  When he smiled back, her stomach did an odd flip.

  Whoa. Definitely hot.

  Jill turned her attention to the vast, open hills ahead. She needed to get her mind off handsome dragon men and onto something safer. But with his tall, broad form walking so close to her, it was nearly impossible. His presence surrounded her, the girlish fantasy of a real-life knight in shining armor filling her senses.

  "So, that dragon-to-man metamorphosis was pretty impressive last night. Can you shift back and forth whenever you want to?"

  "Nay, I can only become human one month out of each year."

  "Yeah, you told me. But when you're human, can you turn back into a dragon?"

  He looked at her as if she was insane. "Why would I wish to?"

  "I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe just because you can?"

  "If you were forced to live eleven months out of every year as a flying lizard, would you wish to waste your time in human form being that which you despise?"

  Jill grimaced. Had she really called him that? "When you put it like that, I guess not."

  He was silent for a long time before he spoke again. "To answer your question, I cannot take dragon form while I am human any more than I can shift into human form while I am a dragon. I have no choice in the matter."

  "I understand." Not really, but she was trying hard to wrap her mind around the reality of the dragon-man walking at her side. "So, since you've been a dragon for over two centuries, how old does that make you?"

  Baelin shrugged. "I am not certain. I was cursed when I was in my twentieth year and have lived most of that time since as a dragon."

  "You don't look like you're still twenty." Jill studied the lines beginning to form around his eyes, the kind that usually only came with age or smiling a lot. Somehow, she didn't think he smiled very often. "You look like you're more in your mid-thirties or so."

  "It only appears that way. Because of the curse, I am only human for one moon's cycle and as such, I age but one month each year."

  "Oh, kinda like the dog years thing."

  "I do not understand."

  "Well, they say a dog ages seven years for every human one. It sounds as if you age one month for every dragon year."

  "'Tis possible. I never thought on it over much. The seasons come and go very much the same. After the first century, I stopped counting them."

  He said the words so casually and yet it tore her apart to think of him living in that cave, year after year, decade after decade, all alone.

  "When you're a dragon, do you still think and feel like a human?"

  He looked at her and the toll his isolation had taken on his soul nearly broke her heart.

  "Aye."

  Jill's throat tightened and she had to look away. She knew then that he hadn't been completely honest with her.

  He had counted those years. Each and every one of them.

  "We will camp here for the night."

  Jill plopped down where she stood and proceeded to tear off her shoes and massage her aching feet. She'd been ready to stop an hour earlier when they first entered the forest, but she'd bit her tongue and didn't complain. She knew if she had, Baelin would only suggest flying again, and she would endure blisters the size of watermelons over medieval hang gliding any day.

  Glancing around at the small clearing within a stand of tall birch trees and thick holly bushes, she noted there were more leaves than grass on the ground and not a bed in sight. That didn't matter. She was so tired from walking, she could sleep on a pile of rocks and not notice the difference.

  Baelin dropped his satchel and shield beside her, and then he swung the crossbow and quiver of arrows from his back. He drew back the bowstring and cocked it. Looking down the sight, he released the trigger, firing an imaginary arrow at an invisible target.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I shall attempt to find us fresh game. The supplies from the village will only last so long, and we do not know when or if we shall pass another to procure more. It would be wise to make what food we have last."

  Jill halted her foot rub and glanced up at him. "You're going hunting now?"

  "Aye, before the light fades."

  "What about me?"

  "Would you care to accompany me?"

  At the mere thought of taking another step, her feet screamed in protest. "Not really."

  Baelin nodded, as if he'd anticipated her answer.

  "Wait a minute. After all your dire warnings about how dangerous it is for a woman to be traveling alone, you're going to go off and leave me here by myself?"

  "You should be safe enough as long as you do not wander off into the forest. I shall not be gone long."

  He pulled a wicked-looking dagger from his belt and tossed it to the ground beside her, its sharp blade embedding itself deep in the dirt, while the jewelled hilt glinted in the sunlight filtering through the trees.

  "What's that for?"

  "In case I am wrong." Baelin looked down at her, his humor fading as wariness narrowed his eyes. "I trust you to remain here until I return."

  "Where would I go?"

  "You might try escape."

  Jill huffed. "Now why would I do that? I told you I would help you."

  "Once I am out of sight, you may have a change of heart. I advise you not to attempt it." With that, he turned and walked away.

  Stunned by his lack of trust, she watched his broad back blend into the trees until he disappeared.

  "Fine," she shouted. "Go off and hunt, Daniel Boone. Leave me alone here to…what? What the heck am I supposed to do while you're out stalking some poor, defenseless animal?"

  "A fire would be beneficial," his disembodied voice answered from the forest. "Unless you prefer sitting in the dark and eating your meat raw."

  "Ha, ha. Very funny."

  The tall trees offered no further comment and suddenly she felt terribly alone in the clearing. The forest probably hid all manner of creatures hunting their own dinner. She'd already met a dragon. There was no telling what else roamed this strange land with an appetite for human flesh.

  She jumped, startled by the call of a bird, then took a calming breath as she tried to get a grip on her overactive imagination. Vulnerable was not a feeling that sat well with her. She glanced at the knife sticking out of the dirt. She was more apt to cut herself and bleed to death than be able to use it in self-defense. Mace or pepper spray was definitely more up her alley.

  Stop thinking that way, she chided herself. After all, they hadn't seen another human being all day as they traipsed across the countryside. What were the chances someone would come jumping out of the bushes now?

  A twig snapped somewhere behind her. Apparently, the chances were high. Jill reached for the dagger. She may not know how to use it but whatever was lurking in the woods didn't know that.

  When a snarling wild beast or sex-crazed maniac didn't immediately pounce on her, she let out her breath and tried to relax. There you go again, she thought. Psyching yourself out over nothing. It was probably just a squirrel chewing on a nut.

  Steeling herself, she rose to her feet. She needed to gain control of this situation before she completely lost her mind. So, first things first. She did not want to be sitting here in the dark all night long if, for some reason, Baelin didn't come back.

  A fire. She could build a fire, couldn't she?

  After gathering several armloads of downed branches without venturing too far into the dark woods, Jill stacked them high and eyed the pile of wood as if staring at it would be enough to catch it on fire. It didn't work.

  Okay, so what did people use to start fires these days? Spying Baelin's satchel, Jill knelt to rummage through it. Knowing she wouldn't find a cigarette lighter of any kind, she hoped he had something that could be used to create a spark. Had matches been invented yet? She hoped so.

  As she searc
hed around in his belongings, her fingers brushed across the rolled form of the tapestry. She unfurled it in her lap and once again, her image stared back at her. It was hard to believe one piece of embroidered fabric controlled her fate.

  Two people's fates, she corrected herself. Baelin needed the answers hidden within the threads as much as she did. But if what he said was true, then that meant he was probably also right about her having to pass those darn challenges. Wonderful. She'd had a hard enough time passing high school algebra. Damn remnant table reject. Jill rolled it up and retied the string around it before shoving it back into the satchel.

  Blowing a wayward lock of hair out of her face, she turned her attention to the stacked firewood that should already be giving off heat. Instead, the branches lay on the ground where she dropped them, mocking her with her inability to do something so simple as light a fire.

  Gritting her teeth in determination and still fuming in the face of Baelin's distrust, Jill stomped over and knelt by the wood pile.

  "Oh, I'll light a fire all right. When Baelin gets his alligator ass back here, I'll have a freakin' bonfire going."

  CHAPTER 8

  Baelin stepped out of the forest to spy Lady Jill bent over a pile of wood, rubbing two sticks together with furious effort.

  "My lady. What, pray tell, are you doing?"

  She glared at him, a fine sheen of sweat wetting her brow. "What does it look like? I'm giving myself a pedicure."

  She tossed the sticks on the woodpile in disgust and arched her back with a groan, thrusting her breasts against the neckline of her gown. Baelin was forced to bite back his own groan. Would that he could cup those plump mounds in his hands, test their weight in his palms, taste their dusky peaks with his tongue.

  To combat his errant thoughts, he tried to turn his attention elsewhere. "Are you having trouble with the fire?"

  "You caught me. I flunked out of the Girl Scouts and never got my fire-starter badge."

  Ignoring a response he did not even attempt to understand, he stepped up beside her. "If you will stand back, I shall light it for you."

  She rose and dusted off the front of her gown. "By all means, knock yourself out."

  When he was certain she stood a safe distance away, Baelin drew in a deep breath and spat a ball of fire, instantly igniting the dry kindling.

  Lady Jill jumped back, nearly falling over the satchels behind her.

  "Holy cow! Remind me not to kiss you. I don't think my tonsils could handle the heat."

  Baelin stiffened, any thought of wanting her vanishing in an instant. He needed no further reminder he was no more than a monster to her, though the beast now wore a man's face.

  "I shall make every effort to keep my distance."

  A betraying flush reddened her cheeks and he knew in that instant she realized the insult of her careless words.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

  "Aye, you did," he cut her off. "You just did not intend to voice the thought aloud. Fear not. You will not suffer unwanted attentions from me for the duration of our journey together."

  An awkward silence stood between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

  Finally, she cleared her throat. "So, did you have any luck hunting?"

  Baelin tossed a fat, gray hare on the ground at her feet.

  Lady Jill paled and covered her mouth with her hand, her face stricken. "You killed the Easter Bunny."

  "You do not care for rabbit?"

  "Not when it comes with the fluffy bunny fur and cute wiggly nose still attached." She visibly shivered. "You have just succeeded in murdering one of my childhood illusions."

  He clenched his teeth as emotions waged battle inside him. Incredible as it seemed, the woman had managed to both wound and insult him in almost the same breath.

  "It appears there is no pleasing my lady this eve."

  An unladylike curse escaped her lips as she focused her big, green-flecked eyes on him. "I'm sorry if I offended you about the horse, and the rabbit, and…the other thing." She waved her hands around, unable to utter the last word. But he knew what she meant. Was the idea of kissing him so abhorrent she could not even say it aloud?

  He read the sincerity in her face, could hear the contrition in her voice, but it did little to soothe his wounded pride. When he offered no response, she continued on.

  "You'll have to bear with me. I'm new to this world of yours. And since we're going to be spending a lot of time together, you'd better get used to the fact that I'm going to make mistakes. Apparently a lot of them where you're concerned."

  "Then I consider myself forewarned."

  Baelin scooped up the hare and stalked off before he did something he would regret—like strangle the maid with his bare hands.

  Jill swatted at the pesky bugs swarming around her face. As the sun went down, they had multiplied by the hundreds. Hearing another high-pitched whine as one made a dive bomb for her neck, she waved her hands in a fruitless effort to keep them at bay.

  "Why are these mosquitoes eating me alive and they don't seem to be bothering you one bit?"

  "Mosquitoes?"

  Baelin glanced up from where he was busy driving two branches into the ground on either side of the fire to serve as a makeshift rotisserie for the recently deceased rabbit. It was the first time they'd spoken in over an hour and Jill was acutely aware she was treading on shaky ground with him. She figured mosquitoes were a safe enough topic to talk about.

  "Ah, those are midges."

  "I don't care what they're called, they're driving me crazy. What kind of medieval bug repellent are you using?"

  He frowned a moment until understanding eased the creases on his brow. "I am not doing anything. They naturally avoid me."

  "Let me guess. They can sense the predator in you." Jill said it as a joke, trying to lighten the mood between them, but Baelin surprised her by confirming her words.

  "Aye, there may be some truth in that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Dragon's blood flows through my veins. If I were to bleed, it would burn anything it touched. I can only assume they sense to drink of it would mean their death."

  "Really? You mean your blood is like some kind of acid?"

  "Aye, if this acid you speak of burns like fire."

  "That doesn't sound very healthy for your arteries, but the built-in bug-be-gone is a nifty side affect."

  Baelin stilled. "My lady, I would gladly suffer the bite of a thousand vermin every day of my life than to live one more day as a dragon."

  Jill could've kicked herself. There she went, saying the wrong thing again. "Right. I guess when you put it like that, the small benefit isn't worth it. Sorry."

  She scratched at the dirt with a stick, feeling awkward and irritated with herself. Every time she opened her mouth, she managed to offend him. The difference in their times could explain a lot, but she knew if she stopped to think before she spoke, it would go a long way toward easing some of the tension between them.

  She sat quietly as he prepared the rabbit for roasting. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "So, how did you end up being cursed to be a dragon anyway?"

  Baelin nearly dropped the rabbit in the fire as he attempted to balance the skewered carcass between the two stakes.

  "I see forthrightness is also one of your…virtues."

  Jill snorted. "If that's what you call it. Most people say it's being nosy." When he didn't answer her, she prodded again. "So, dish. Give me the gory details. Inquiring minds want to know."

  "'Tis not something I talk about."

  Something in his voice caught her attention—a bitterness tinged with regret.

  "Is it because you don't like to talk about it or because none of the other girls ever bothered to ask?"

  He sat on the opposite side of the fire. She could tell he was thinking, probably remembering, and she was all too aware she'd touched on a painful subject for him.

  "They never asked."

  "Well,
I'm asking." She spoke without demand, offering without saying the words to listen to his story and perhaps, in the telling of it, relieve some of his lonely burden.

  He looked away. "I prefer not to remember that time. It was long ago, when I was too young, too proud." He paused for the span of a heartbeat. "Still human."

  She was surprised when he returned his gaze to her, those warm, brown eyes filled with an intense pain he didn't bother to hide.

  "What does it matter now? I am what I am."

  His softly spoken words recalled the hurt in those same eyes when she made the comment about not wanting to kiss him. How could she have been so insensitive? The poor guy had been alone in a cave for two centuries. It's not as if he'd had a lot of opportunities to get any action, and she had to go and say something stupid.

  She chose her words carefully, aware this was her chance to bridge the gap between them, to mend the hurt she'd already caused. "It might help me understand you better."

  He straightened, his haunted expression transforming to one of puzzlement. "Truly?"

  "Yeah." Jill shrugged, trying to give the impression the conversation they were having was as casual as talking about the weather. "Sort of like 'you show me your scars and I'll show you mine'."

  She watched him swallow, as if the words fought to come out but he wanted desperately to hold them back. "'Tis not a pretty tale."

  "Somehow, I didn't think it would be."

  He sat there staring into the fire so long, Jill wondered if he was going to say anymore. Finally, he sighed and rested his arms on his raised knees.

  "When I was a lad of about seven years, my father sent me to foster with Amdarch the Black."

  "The Black?" The nickname gave Jill visions of a swarthy barbarian overlord who would think nothing of beating a young boy into obedience. "Was he called that because he was mean?"

  "Nay." Baelin smiled as some fond memory eased the tension in his face. "He was called The Black because in his youth his hair was dark as night. But by the time I went to foster with him, it had turned more gray than not. He was a good man, wise yet firm, and he taught me well."

  "You were so young. Did you miss your family?"