Chapter Three
The hour grew late and Bloodaxe was losing patience with Georgiana’s reluctance to take off her gown. He had only himself to blame for scaring the wits out of her, but she needed to know what he was and the danger he represented to her. “I’m not going to eat you, Georgiana.”
“So you say now. Is that supposed to calm me?” She was standing by the closed window, staring out at the two big moons that were floating like silver balls in the distant, dark red sky. Her long, golden hair spilled over her slight shoulders as she stood quite still, her injured arms wrapped around herself.
“You’re too little and bony to make a decent meal.” He sighed, realizing he was frightening her again. She looked so helpless and lost. How was he to keep her safe once war broke out? “I give you my oath. I’m not going to hurt you in any way.”
She shivered in response.
“Here.” He handed her one of his shirts, wishing he had the ability to heal her with a mere wave of his hand. But Underworld demons were not good healers, often causing more damage with their dark magic. Only the Fae had the ability to heal others and there were no Fae healers here. “You’re cold and obviously tired. You didn’t eat much tonight.”
“I wasn’t hungry. How could I be after what you said? Every bite I took only made me think of my body being chewed in your dragon teeth. Or are they fangs?” She tensed as he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face away from him.
“Snakes have fangs. Dragons have sharp teeth and spiked tails. And we don’t slither on the ground. We have long wings that allow us to soar through the clouds and glide effortlessly on the wind over the lakes and forests we’ve marked as our territory.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How do you mark your territory?”
“Through conquest and bloodshed. We do not piss on the ground as beasts of your realm do to mark their corners.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did.” But he wasn’t angered by her impertinent question, for he was a beast. The primal instinct of survival was all that was left of him. “Hold still while I untie this tangle of strings that holds your gown together. How can you breathe in this contraption? It must be cutting into your ribs.” He began to work the laces of her gown loose.
She tensed as his knuckles grazed her skin. “What are you doing?”
“I just told you. I’m taking it off you. Hold still.” She had to know he wasn’t going to allow her to sleep in this stained and ruined garment of hers. Indeed, she badly needed some rest. She’d been drugged and unconscious during her abduction. Those drugs and the strain of her journey into the Underworld must have taken a toll on her delicate body.
His nymphs had shown her no mercy and their attack had been vicious. Although Georgiana was not complaining, he knew those cuts were nasty and deep, too raw and exposed to overlook. Had his nymphs been true demons, the damage caused would have been far worse.
“Your gown needs to be burned.” He ignored the softness of her shoulders and the sweet scent of her skin that stirred the dragon ache within his heart. “Take it off.” He turned away and whistled for his dogs to settle on the floor at the foot of his bed while he kept his back turned and tried his best not to think of the sleek silk fabric sliding down her perfect body and falling in a gossamer pool of white at her feet. “Your undergarments as well.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m not going to touch you,” he said with a gentleness that surprised him even more than it surprised her. He’d lost such feelings long ago and never believed they were merely lying dormant for Georgiana to awaken.
His words seemed to calm her.
“Will you sleep in your bedclothes?” she asked as she removed the last of her garments and he heard the light whoosh as they fell to the floor.
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to shock your delicate, English sensibilities.” He usually wore nothing to bed, but Georgiana was already overset. Seeing him naked would likely send her into a fit of hysterics.
He didn’t need a woman shrieking in his ear, not in that way. His usual evening entertainments involved bed games with two or three nymphs, and their shrieks were of the more sensual variety, of pleasure and desire fulfilled. But there would be no such sport with Georgiana this evening. Once she was settled in his bed, he’d grab a pillow and coverlet and stretch out on the floor beside the door. “Are you decent?”
He heard her small voice respond from across the room. “If you consider my wearing your shirt decent, then yes.”
“Good.” He turned to face her and instantly felt a slam to his heart. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld, even though she was almost lost within the folds of his shirt. She looked so soft and womanly. Her bare legs were nicely shaped. But her allure went far beyond mere physical beauty. Why did she mean so much more to him than that? “Get into bed. I won’t touch you,” he repeated, knowing she was not at all comfortable with their sleeping arrangements.
Perhaps he needed to caution himself as well.
He expected words of protest to spill from her lips and was surprised when she merely nodded and settled her body between the sheets.
Her unexpected compliance troubled him. Did she trust him?
She refused to look at him as she stretched out under the covers. Instead, she turned away so that her back was to him. He’d instructed her to take the far side of the bed, for he wanted to keep her away from any means of access. He and his dogs would put themselves between her and the door. His nymphs had already attacked her.
Who else would come after her in the dark of night?
He sat on the bed beside her, intending nothing more than to take off his boots. As he sat, the weight of his body put a dip in the mattress, causing Georgiana to slide closer to him. She quickly scrambled away. He sighed. “You needn’t worry. I don’t eat sleeping virgins either.”
“Ah, thank you for those soothing words. I shall sleep ever so calmly now.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she also sounded fatigued and could not hide it.
“I give you my oath, Georgiana. I will not harm you.” He would repeat it as often as she needed to hear it. “I’m merely taking off my boots. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight. Get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
However, he knew his sleep would be as restless as hers was bound to be. Georgiana. She was his weakness. He longed to lie beside her and feel her body curled against his.
She would likely be the death of him. But what a sweet death it would be.
“What is to happen tomorrow?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to hide her trepidation.
War. Danger. “I don’t know.”
“But you just said it would be busy. So why–”
“By the Stone of Draloch! Stop asking questions.”
He groaned inwardly, knowing he’d probably frightened her again.
But she merely sighed with impatience. “You would be doing the same if our situations were reversed.”
“Perhaps.” But he knew it was not so. He wouldn’t be bothering with questions. He’d be shifting into a dragon and setting his abductors and all they possessed ablaze. He’d be sweeping across their lands, a great dark shadow bellowing flames until all that lay in his path was scorched and burned to ashes. Indeed, he wouldn’t bother with questions. Those foolish enough to attempt to take him had to know they would die.
She continued to study him, but her lids were heavy from fatigue and he noticed a yawn escape her generous lips. Those lips! They were perfectly shaped and would feel exquisite when they yielded to the pressure of his mouth. When they yielded? No, he wasn’t going to kiss her. Not ever. He shook his head and studied her.
Her lips were adorably puckered and she was still frowning at him. “I don’t think I can stop asking questions. I’ve been brought to a strange land against my will and attacked by strange creatures. I have a right to know what my purpose is here.” Her breaths turned short and ragged. “Or if I am meant to survive.”
“Damn it, Georgiana.” He slammed his fist into the mattress, causing the entire bed to rattle. Blasted Stone of Draloch and the games it played with their fates! No doubt he’d frightened her again. “I’ve already told you that I don’t know why you’ve been brought here. I have no answers for you.”
She’d scrambled to the opposite edge of the bed again, but her gaze as she stared at him remained one of irritation and not terror. “My lord, is your disposition always so sour before bed?”
“Worse.” He groaned and shook his head, finally giving in to the urge to laugh. She wasn’t afraid of him which meant she trusted him not to hurt her. That pleased him more than he dared admit. “I’m usually much worse.”
But her trust, coupled with the heat she ignited in him, dangerously stirred his dragon lust. He turned away from her. In any event, he needed to keep an eye on the door he’d made certain to securely bolt earlier. He’d also locked the windows to prevent unwanted creatures from flying in unannounced.
They were now sealed in his quarters and the air was so hot and stifling, the room felt more like a locked tomb.
But it couldn’t be helped. Although he hadn’t spotted them yet, he knew Brihann’s demon spies were scouting outside his fortress. Brihann’s armies would likely soon be poised on the border between their territories awaiting the order to attack his lands. That order would be issued the moment he attempted to return Georgiana to her home.
How was he to sneak her through a portal while the High King was watching?
He dared not risk it yet for several reasons, the most troubling one being that he was in no hurry to rid himself of Georgiana’s company. He meant to take advantage of each precious moment spent with her, for war between the realms of man and demon was looming. He didn’t know what the outcome would be or whether either of them would survive.
However, he was a warrior, a Dragon Lord, and expected to be in the vanguard of the great battles. He didn’t care what fate awaited him. But what of Georgiana? Why had she been tossed in with him?
He needed to learn the answers from the Stone of Draloch. But the journey to the palace of the Fae king where that monolith stood would take too long, and after today’s incident with his nymphs, he dared not leave Georgiana behind for any length of time.
Nor could he take her with him. Brihann was guarding the portals. In any event, travel between realms was too dangerous for a mortal. Especially when there were forces who did not wish her to leave. Brihann wasn’t the only one to worry about. He doubted the Stone of Draloch would permit him to carry her off to safety when Georgiana had been brought into the Underworld for a purpose yet unknown.
If her presence was meant to shake him to the very depths of his demonic core, it had worked. There were only two beings across time and realms that he would sacrifice his life to protect.
Georgiana was one of them.
After an hour had passed, Bloodaxe quietly strode to the bed and knelt beside her small frame. Had she fallen asleep yet? Her eyes were closed and she was breathing calmly. He inhaled her scent and ran his fingers along her cheek that was warm and pink and tempting. “Georgiana–”
“If you’re thinking of making untoward advances, don’t. I took one of the dinner knives and hid it under my pillow.”
He groaned lightly, amused by her attempt to protect herself. “A dinner knife? Why would you tell me that and lose the element of surprise?” He strode to the pallet he’d fashioned for himself by the door and picked up his battle axe. The weapon was almost as big as she was and probably weighed more than she did with boots on and sopping wet. He returned to her side and carefully propped it against the footboard.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he knelt beside her once more.
“Why do you think I’m known as Lord Bloodaxe? This is my preferred instrument of battle.” He pointed to the blade that was within easy reach. “I always keep it finely honed and close at hand. Do you think your puny knife would ever save you from my axe?”
“No, but you vowed that you would never harm me.”
He nodded. “I meant it.”
She drew the covers up to her neck so that only her face was showing as she gazed at him. “Then why did you come to my side and whisper my name?” She sighed when he failed to respond. “Rest easy, my lord. I would never use my puny knife, or any weapon for that matter, against you. My heart simply won’t allow it. I don’t understand why I trust you so completely even when you’ve threatened me and purposely frightened me.”
“Your heart knows I will not harm you.”
“Then why are you still hovering over me?”
“I’m kneeling beside you. I merely wish to make certain you haven’t developed a fever.” He used the explanation as an excuse to run his knuckles across her cheek again. “How do you feel?”
She stifled a yawn. “Tired, but otherwise fine.”
“Are you in pain?”
She nodded. “But only a little. My arms are throbbing. I’m afraid to sleep and yet my body is so weary, I yearn for it.”
“Then close your eyes and stop fighting against your exhaustion.” He settled his gaze on her, knowing he was making a mistake to remain so close, but he needed to breathe in her scent, that sweet, clean aroma of wildflowers and strawberries.
Stone of Draloch, I ache for this girl.
She was still huddled so close to the edge of his bed that the slightest movement would send her toppling to the floor. “This bed is all yours, Georgiana. Make yourself comfortable in it.”
“How can I when it is your bed?”
“It isn’t mine this evening.” But he could not deny his torment. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her up against his body. He wanted to claim her. Possess her. Spill his dragon seed into her. But that would be an incredibly dangerous mistake. She’d already smashed his iron control to bits.
He didn’t dare couple with her.
She’d destroy him completely.
Her golden hair spilled across his pillow. Her womanly body was curled in a kittenish ball so that she looked small and lost amid the ocean of his satin sheets. Moonlight shone upon his bed, surrounding both of them in its gentle glow.
His blood was on fire.
He silently called out again to the Stone of Draloch. Why have you brought Georgiana to me? She can only weaken me when I must be strong for battle.
To his surprise, the Stone of Draloch responded. Do not be foolish, son of Draloch. She is your greatest gift. Do not make her your greatest tragedy.
Cursed stone! It spoke in riddles, never offering a clear path or a logical plan of action. What was he to do with Georgiana? Succumb to his dragon lust and claim her for his own? Ignore it and free her? He didn’t know how best to keep her safe. “Georgie,” he said in an anguished whisper, calling her by the name he’d used upon sealing their betrothal when she was but a babe in swaddling clothes.
Had anyone else ever called her that?
Perhaps her betrothed had done so, using it as his pet name for her.
His dragon rage ignited once more and he could not tamp down the urge to torch the blackguard with his dragon fire. Mine. She’s mine.
Behave, son of Draloch! The Stone of Draloch was still in his head and reading his thoughts. But never offering help.
Why should I behave? What will you do to me? What can possibly be worse than what you’ve already forced me to endure?
The stone turned ominously silent.
“Georgie,” he whispered again, reaching out to make certain she was still there and not swept out of his life as suddenly she had been brought into it.
She said nothing.
Exhaustion had finally conquered her. She had fallen asleep, the peaceful sleep of the innocent.
In the next moment, he heard her soft snores.
Stay. Stay with me, Georgiana. He thanked the Fates that she was still beside him.
How long before he lost her again?
*
“I’m so sorry,” Georgiana said with a gasp, quickly shaking off the remnants of her morning haziness. She rolled to her knees and stared down in horror at Lord Bloodaxe’s big, muscled body. His hugely muscled and shirtless body.
Did the man have no proper bed clothes?
“Oh, my goodness. I don’t remember climbing out of bed.” Had she spent the night on the floor beside him? Worse, had she slept all night with her body scandalously curled around his? “I… I must have grown cold.”
It was an utterly ridiculous lie and he knew it.
He smirked and did nothing to hide his amusement. “In this stifling room?” He rolled to his feet, seemingly unaffected by her nearness or touch. Her heart was wildly leaping in her chest so that she could hardly catch her breath. Still smirking, he casually crossed to the large windows to open them and allow in a breeze.
He remained standing by one of the windows, his assessing dragon gaze fixed on the mist rising over the distant forest and thankfully not on her.
She had yet to recover from her embarrassment. Her voice was tight as she asked, “What are you looking at?”
He continued to scan the landscape. “I’m searching for signs of Brihann’s demons. They must have been camped on the borderlands last night, but I still don’t see them.”
“How can you find them through that layer of gray clouds? Perhaps they withdrew, assuming they were ever there.”
“They were and still are.” He inhaled deeply.
“What are you doing now?” She marveled at how finely sculpted his warrior body truly was. There was nothing soft about him other than the occasional softening in his glance toward her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
He remained by the window, standing as tall and proud as a monument. Indeed, he appeared to be shaped of granite and covered in taut, rippling skin.
Nicely bronzed skin.
Nothing pale or delicate about him, and yet there was no denying his regal elegance.
He inhaled again. “If they are out there, then their foul scent will give them away. Demon stench lingers in the air.”
She quietly approached him, feeling quite small now standing by his side although she was of average height by London Society standards. “I don’t smell anything. Do you?”
“Aye, I do.” He glanced down at her and grinned. “It’s your scent that fills my nostrils.”
She gasped. “Mine?”
He caught her by the waist when she tried to draw away.
She squirmed in his arms. “Let go of me, my lord.”
Instead, he laughed and drew her shamefully close.
She tried to push off him, but realized her mistake at once. His skin was warm and inviting. His muscles were… Mother in heaven. “I haven’t bathed yet. Don’t you dare breathe me in.”
“You mistake my meaning, Georgiana. Your scent is that of wildflowers and strawberries. Do you think any demon ever smelled so sweet?”
She stopped struggling but eyed him warily. “Then you weren’t referring to my foul stench?”
“No.” His regard almost appeared tender. “You are a rare nectar meant to be savored.”
She knew he had to be teasing her once more, for only her parents had ever considered her rare or special. She was desirable to others because she was the daughter of a wealthy duke and considered pretty. She was not a perfect beauty like the young women considered Incomparables.
But Lord Bloodaxe sometimes looked at her as though she was. A rare nectar? The idea was laughable. “Do not compare me to drink or food,” she teased, her humor returning as the shock of her scandalous thoughts began to diminish. “I am not a drink to quench your dragon thirst or food to satisfy your dragon hunger.”
“Georgiana.” He spoke her name with an aching growl. “One taste of you would never be enough to satisfy me.”
His voice resonated through her like a caress. No! Was she mad to have such feelings for a demon lord? “Why? Because I’m too little and bony.”
“Aye, that.” He lightly tugged on the sleeve of the shirt he’d loaned her. “Your strawberry scent clings to my shirt. It is all I will have to remember you by once I return you to your family.”
She gaped at him.
A flame of hope kindled in her heart. “Then you truly meant what you said? You will take me home?”
“I gave you my oath. How many times must you hear it before you will believe me?” He appeared sincere, but could she ever trust the word of a demon? Yet, there was something about Lord Bloodaxe that inspired confidence. “You were a gift to me and mine to do with as I please. It pleases me to deliver you back into the arms of your family.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over her. She hadn’t believed him yesterday, not completely. She hadn’t believed him until this very moment.
But having survived the night alone with him and knowing he’d behaved honorably even when she hadn’t, somehow made his words ring true when they hadn’t before. She rubbed her eyes as tears suddenly welled in them and began to spill onto her cheeks. “I thought I was trapped here forever.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest thing to say to him.
He’d been nothing but protective and respectful of her. He’d treated her wounds with gentle care. “Not that you make me feel trapped. You don’t at all… not very much. That is, I understand why you’ve confined me here. For my own protection. It isn’t your fault that I can’t leave your bedchamber. Or that you’ve ordered your dogs to stop me if I try.” She was blathering, somehow demeaning his generosity because her gratitude sounded like an insult. Perhaps this is why she’d remained a spinster until Oliver had come along.
She sighed. “You have a way of overwhelming me. I suppose you do that to everyone. I’m terrified of remaining here. I’m terrified that you will change your mind. I’m terrified that–”
“Enough, Georgiana. You won’t be here much longer. I’ll get you out.” His blue eyes grew dark and angry. “It is not me who traps you here. Do you think I enjoy playing nursemaid to you? You’re a distraction and a nuisance. I wish to be rid of you as soon as possible.”
There was a look of impatience in his eyes.
She held her breath.
No, it was darker than that. Perhaps anger or frustration.
He looked angry enough to eat her.
After a moment, she released the breath she’d been holding. “I’m so sorry that I’m a nuisance to you. It’s my fault, I know. I’ll do my best not to get in your way. Oliver didn’t have much use for me either.”
“Oliver? Your betrothed.”
She nodded. “An arranged marriage. After five seasons, my family despaired of my ever making a match. You see, I’d held out for love.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “A silly, hopeful dream. But I never felt anything for any of the gentlemen who courted me, so I finally gave up and settled for the amiable companionship Oliver offered.”
She frowned and pursed her lips in thought. “You may think me foolish for what I am about to say. I’ve never experienced love, but I know in my heart how it should feel. At least, I think I do. Sometimes I feel as though I have experienced it, but I don’t know where or when.” She had been staring at her toes as she spoke, but now looked up at him.
She couldn’t make out his expression, only that he no longer appeared angry. The frightening darkness had faded from his eyes. “Lord Bloodaxe… I…”
She turned away and gazed at her toes once more. How could she tell him the rest of it? He’d laugh at her and call her a fool.
How could she tell him what she did not believe possible herself? But there was no overlooking their connection. She dared not call it attraction.
He was a demon.
And yet, he was something more.
Someone important to her.
How was he important to her?