Her Hidden Dragon
Sigurd Eltvik had never seen anything so beautiful as the woman hunched near the bayberry tree. She tried to coax the shaft-tail finches to land on her outstretched hand.
Holding as still as a statue, the auburn-haired lass couldn’t convince even a golden sparrow to take perch on her. With those long wavy ripples of fire going down her back, hovering above her lovely derriere, she reminded him of a fiery wood nymph from legends.
Although tempted, he leaned against a roped pole there in the grassland exhibit of the Harghita Hatchery and Aviary. He’d promised his pendragon, Blake, and his bud, Edmund, he would deliver four dragon eggs to the hatchery and stay to watch over them. Edmund and his new mate, Cassandra, had rescued them from the hands of that dirty dealing Margaret Moldvan and they all knew it was a matter of time until Margaret came to collect them back.
If this was to be his assignment until the heavy metal band, Lure, got together in a few weeks to play their final gig for the century, then he couldn’t complain. Not with a view as breathtaking as this.
His dragon senses went haywire with her wildflower and moss scent.
She leaned a bit. A golden finch hopped a little on the branch in her direction. Her sweet voice pleaded, “Just a little now. I won’t hurt you.”
Sigurd snorted. Amused, he couldn’t help himself. “Says the predator to the prey.”
Startled, the bird fluttered away in the enclosure.
Two emerald eyes turned on him. Wide with surprise, then sparked as she spoke, “Predator? Me? I’m not the one sneaking up on others and scaring them.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but in defense you were trying to lure those poor birds into your clutches.”
“I was not!”
“Really? Next, you’re going to claim you’re one of those dragonesses? You know…” He flipped his hand and jutted out his hip. “I’m a vegetarian.” Then he quirked his brow.
“A what?”
She made a face trying not to laugh at him then sobered when he said, “Vegetarian.
“You know. Don’t eat meat.”
“I know what a vegetarian is. I meant the other.”
“Dragoness? A female dragon.”
“Listen I don’t know what drugs you’re on buddy, but this is an aviary. You won’t find any dragons here. You need to leave. Now.” She marched towards him, the V-neck in her shirt providing a good view of her plump breasts, ripe for the picking. He straightened, waiting for her to recognize him any moment and press those alluring curves of hers against him.
But this dragoness didn’t tame so easily. She stood, nose to nose with him, unblinking. “Out or I’ll call security.”
He crossed his arms. “You don’t know who I am do you?”
Her eyes swept down over him. He tilted his chin up. “You’re either some stupid jack who’s high on who-knows-what or I’d say you are one of the new security guards. Either way, you have no business in this exhibit.”
A huge shaft of disappointment poked him in the gut. “I don’t even look faintly familiar to you?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Should you?”
Her bewildered expression wounded him. He was Sigurd Eltvik! The best rock’n guitar player known to man-kind. Okay, he reasoned with himself, second best. He’d give Blake the role of best. He was their leader, after all. But sweet Mary, how could she have no clue who he was?
Then he grinned. “Sure, baby. I’m the new security. Why don’t you give me a tour of the facilities?”
“I’m Ashlynn Sullivan, Dr. Kovak’s assistant. If you’re looking for a tour, come back on Saturday. We are open to the public on Saturday afternoons.”
“Sigurd Eltvik.” Sigurd held out his hand. By the blank expression of her face, she still didn’t know who he was. When she didn’t take his hand, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine then,” he muttered. “At least direct me back to the hatchery so I can check in with Dr. Kovak.”
“I gather you expect me to take you.” Her thin brow arched, and he sensed the ire spark in her.
“Lead the way.”
She gathered a small metal pail with seed and fruit inside it, placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head in the direction she leaned toward. “This be the way to where you’re wanting to go.”
Sigurd followed behind her, noticed how her hips swayed, and how her cargo pants fitted her snug. A low growl gathered in his chest. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, her brow arched, her eyes swept him in from head to foot. She smiled, a hint of upturned lips, before she turned and led him to a door at the back of the exhibit.
“Down the hall, the next wing will connect you to the hatchery. You’ll find Dr. Kovak isn’t one for disturbances.”
“I think I got it from here.” He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, and restrained his inner dragon as her eyes met his.