Chapter Seven

 

Dark Forest of Castle Swan

 

She smiled and sat with her legs folded under her. “Hi. How are you feeling?” Her voice was friendly, but concern filled her eyes.

Grogginess made his mind murky as he rolled onto his back. “How did I get here?”

“It wasn’t easy.” She tilted her head over at Sir Robert. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your horse. He’s amazing. I was able to get him to kneel so I could drag your dead-ass body onto him, then I was able to lead him here.”

If his head didn’t hurt so badly, he would have smiled at the pride in her voice. Sir Robert was a war horse bred and trained to face danger and respond to commands. “We need to leave. Help me up.”

She didn’t argue and helped him to a sitting position. “You’re in no shape to face whatever’s lurking in that castle.”

The slight movement sent piercing pain into the back of his head, and he grimaced. He gasped for breath and glanced at her trousers. One length was shorter than the other, revealing a shapely calf. “What happened to yer trousers?”

“I used your sword to cut away my jeans. Your head was bleeding bad, and I needed to stop the flow. I just wish I could stitch it up.”

He gestured with his hand. “’Tis na decent to reveal a leg.”

Her eyes turned stormy and she stuck out her chin, but her touch on the back of his head was gentle as she dabbed it with the cloth. “Well, get used to it, bucko. In the twenty-first century, women wear shorts, mini-skirts, sun-dresses, bikini’s—whatever we want.”

He had no idea what she meant, but he was sure it would be shocking. “I did na mean to anger ye. I have na seen a woman’s calf in a very long time.” Not since he’d seduced Marigold, which seemed like centuries ago.

“Your dragon mate?”

“Aye, Marigold.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice softened as she wiped his sweating face. “I didn’t get to thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t come back, those wolves would have ripped me to pieces.”

“’Tis my pleasure, my lady. Yer a brave lass. Na many women would have dared to fight wolves.”

“What about your dragon mate?”

“Marigold was a beautiful woman, but I fear she would na have the heart to do as ye did.”

She lowered her head, and blond tresses masked her face. “You prefer defenseless women?”

“I have never met a lass as yerself. I was impressed.” Holly Duff surprised him at every turn and he appreciated her strange ways, but she needed more than bravery to protect her from the menace in Castle Swan. He needed to strengthen her. Dragons could pass their magic onto a woman if they so desired.

She raised her head and gave him a grand smile that made him flash her a grin.

“Now, ’tis my turn lass to thank ye for taking care of me.”

“It was my pleasure, sir knight.” She brushed his hair out off his face. “Your color is a little better. And your head’s stopped bleeding.”

“I am a dragon knight. I heal faster than men.”

“So, why couldn’t you change into a dragon against those wolves?”

“A weariness keeps draining my powers. I feared if I transformed to fight the wolves then I’d be too weak to face the evil in the castle.”

She put her small hand on top of his, which rested on his knee. “You didn’t think you needed to be a dragon to fight those wolves, did you?”

He liked her smooth touch and held her hand. “True. I am a fierce warrior and have won many melees.”

“I believe you, even if the odds slightly favored you.”

He liked her teasing tone and could get used to her ways.

She turned around and looked toward the castle. “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”

He pulled her toward him, and she turned around. Their faces were inches away. He could inhale her sweet breath and couldn’t resist any longer. He hadn’t kissed a woman since Marigold had passed and hoped he wouldn’t enjoy kissing Holly. But he was wrong.

When he brushed his lips against hers, he’d forgotten how sweet a woman could taste, and Holly was sweeter than cream. She didn’t pull away and opened her mouth. He’d only planned on passing his dragon magic to her, but she ignited a desire that would not be denied. Holly awakened something inside him—a possessiveness, a hunger, a vehemence—a lust that he’d never experienced before. Not even with Marigold. It was the dragon lust. He wanted to feel her powerful legs wrapped around him as he thrust inside her.

He circled his hand around her neck and gently pulled her onto the grass. “I’ll na let any harm come to ye.”

She slipped her hands up his chest and held onto his shoulders. “Nor will I let anything happen to you, my brave dragon knight.”

Duncan groaned silently. He had no doubt that the beautiful Holly Duff would not sit back and follow his orders and stay hidden. She was determined to fulfill her part in this quest and return to her time. But the question was—would Duncan allow her to go?

***

Surprised wouldn’t describe the jumble of emotions tumbling over Holly. The last thing she had wanted to do was to fall for a guy straight out of Robin Hood. She’d only wanted to study the middle ages—not be seduced by a knight.

She could scarcely breathe as he gently kissed her neck. Despite being wounded, Duncan’s mouth was warm, his tongue hot and moist as he planted kisses down her throat, then he returned to her lips. He put his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her. His thoughts were always about her. Chivalry was alive and well in Duncan Sheehy.

No man had ever kissed her like Duncan. Those kisses had been enjoyable, but this took her to a whole new level of sultry. He enslaved, ravaged, and conquered every silken recesses of her mouth, and while she squeaked out a few fluttered protests, she could not summon the strength or wit to make them sound convincing. Or more likely, she hadn’t wanted to. She ran her hands down his back, marveling at his strength.

She returned his lavished stroke, and a tremor in his body sent the passion into new depths. He slipped his hand between them and cupped her breast. She was hot and dizzy: a whizzing need to feel his hands on her naked skin shocked her. Tingles rushed over her, inflaming her desire, and she wanted more than kissing. She wasn’t a willy-nilly virgin, but she wasn’t a shameless slut, either. Or at least, she hadn’t been before.

Duncan lifted up her shirt. “What is this that ye wear, lass? ’Tis na like anything I have ever seen.”

“A bra, silly. Women don’t wear corsets in the twenty-first century.” She laughed at his drawn brows and the curiosity in his eyes.

Her laughter was silenced when he put his lips over her bra and sucked greedily. She pressed his head to her chest and arched her back, giving him access to more of her breast. The flesh between her thighs was swollen and stretched, pulsing with sharp, sweet sensations that only Duncan could fulfill. She wanted him to take her on the sweet grass, next to the rolling river. She must be out of her mind, but her body needed him, wanted him, demanded him. “Duncan, take me.”

His answer was to kiss her tummy, his tongue swirling around in her belly button. She wished she could slip her hands up his heavy mail, but she couldn’t begin to budge it.

Sir Robert neighed and stamped his foot.

Duncan lifted his head and panted hard. He followed the horse’s gaze through the blowing grass.

Dread pulsed through Holly’s veins at his fierce scowl. “Duncan, what’s wrong?”

“Sir Robert senses something. Something is watching us.”

She tensed beneath him. “What? Are the wolves back?” She couldn’t hid the fear in her voice.

“Nay, ’tis na the wolves. I sense the malice from Castle Swan.” He rolled off her. “We must na tally here.”

She rolled onto her stomach and scooted next to him. “Where is it?”

“’Tis in the trees. I canna see it.” He looked at her. “Ye’ve bewitched me. We should return to the task given us.” He sighed heavily. “Alas, I canna break a promise.”

Confusion settled onto Holly. “What promise?”

“I promised Marigold I wouldna lay with another.” He stood and looked through the trees, then offered her his hand.

Disappointment and anger rolled over Holly. Her cheeks on fire, she refused his hand. She sat up and straightened her disheveled shirt. Her skin was chaffed where he’d kissed her, branding her a fool. He was like his brother. No, he was worse than Alastair. Alastair, at least, hadn’t tried to kiss her.

She cast him her worst scowl.  “You could have fooled me.”

He flashed her a dark look. Sir Robert snorted and stomped his foot as if he was ready to go into battle. The sun had sunk lower, casting shadows onto the ominous castle and darkening her mood.

She stood and dusted the pine needles off her jeans, then combed her fingers through her hair. “What happened to Marigold?”

“She died a long time ago.”

“How did she die?”

He hung his head. “By magic. A cold blast froze her heart.”

She stopped playing with her hair. “Oh, my gosh, that’s horrible. How did that happen?”

Duncan didn’t answer right away and turned his head. “Ye might as well know. I wanted to impress my da. He always favored Alastair.”

“Why? He’s an asshole.”

Something hissed and slapped her behind the legs, knocking them out from underneath her. She fell on her buttocks hard. Sharp pain shot up her tail bone, and she grimaced.

He reached out his hand. “Are ye all right, my lady?”

“That was weird. Something invisible hit my legs. Is this forest haunted?”

Duncan stilled and sniffed. His nostrils flared. “There is something amiss here. We need to leave. Now.”

Holly stood and rubbed her ass. “Wait. What killed Marigold? I want to make sure I’m not that same target.”

“I did.”

She put her hand over her trembling heart. “What did she do?”

“Absolutely nothing. I drew on my magic to beat Alastair’s, and my chilling frost went astray. It stabbed her heart like a white arrow. Her lips turned blue, and ice covered her hair and skin. She collapsed.” His voice choked. He hung his head, and his shoulders drooped like a wounded soldier’s. “She kept...kept saying how cold she was. I held her close...” He clenched his fist and plowed it into a rock, sending a long crack down the stone.

Holly jumped. She’d never seen a man do such a thing—not with his fist.

Tears glistened in his angry eyes. “I couldna...I couldna take away the iciness stilling her heart. She died in my arms. I loved her so much. She was my life. I vowed na to be with another woman. I’ve kept that vow.”

Holly envied Marigold. She was lucky to have such a passionate man carry a torch for her even in death. She frowned. “I thought you said she made you promise not to be with another woman.”

“’Tis the same thing.”

“Actually, it’s not.” She studied him. He was a virile man and she’d felt his cock between her thighs. Not many guys she knew would have been able to keep this pledge. “You haven’t been with a woman since she died?”

“Nay, I havena wanted to. ’Tis my honor at stake. She was the love of my life.” He gave her a hard, cold look. “I havena broken that promise until now. There’s something different about ye, Holly Duff, that ye can tempt a dragon to break his vow.” His accusatory tone made her stand taller.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Dragon.” She jammed her finger into his chest. “You’re the one who kissed me first. Why did you anyway?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her away from him. “If I told ye we needed to prepare for battle, would ye believe me?”

“No. Kissing is not preparing for battle. It’s a mild distraction at best.”

“Not with me, it isn’t. Dragons have powers, and we can pass them onto others.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “By kissing? So, have you kissed many knights lately?”

His angry scowl lessened and he put his hands on her shoulders. “Nay. ’Tis only for the fair sex.”

“So, what so-called powers do I have? I don’t feel any different.”

“No, ye would na feel anything. When I use mine, ye’ll be able to use yers.”

“Such as?”

“Invisibility for one.”

“Can I breathe fire?”

“I am an ice dragon. I do na possess that power.” He held up his hand. “And nay, I have na given ye that power. ’Tis dangerous.” He smiled. “And with yer temper, we might find ourselves frozen for eternity.”

“Whatever.” His words stung her more than she wanted to admit.

He squeezed her shoulders gently. “I donna mean to be angry. I could na bear to hurt another lass I care about. I do na want to hurt ye. I canna control my powers. ’Tis best to get ye back to yer time where ye’ll be safe.”

He climbed on the back of Sir Robert, then reached down and pulled her onto the war horse. They rode toward the dreaded castle in silence. Holly was too stunned to comment. What had he meant that he cared for her? She knew what it meant in the twenty-first century: friendship, desire, love. What did saying that he cared about her mean where chivalry ruled? She couldn’t deny that her heart sang at his words, but he was determined to send her back to her time. None of the men Holly had ever went out with or slept with would have ever put a woman’s needs before their own. If she had a slim chance of winning her knight’s heart, would she even want to return to her time?