Her Captive Dragon: Howls Romance

by Marianne Morea

  Her Captive Dragon

  Marianne Morea

  Coventry Press Limited

  “Sometimes the person you really need is the

  one you didn’t think you wanted.”

  Anonymous

  Chapter One

  Hannah Foster jammed her straw into her iced tea. “Seriously, if this is as good as it gets, I swear we’re doomed as a species.”

  “Wow, Hannah. Aren’t you a little ball of sunshine today?” Valerie Ross laughed, following her friend’s gaze across the crowded café. “Is this why you asked me to meet you? To ogle men on their lunch hour?”

  Hannah crumpled the thin paper from her straw and flicked it at her friend. “Ogle? Girl, please. That’s my point. There are no real men to ogle.”

  With a smirk, her friend gave the crowded café a quick once over. “And what kind of men do we have now? Fake ones?”

  “No, dummy. I’m talking real men. The kind with skills.” Hannah slid her eyes to the cash register, where some guy was in a full tantrum over too much milk in his coffee.

  “Real men are a dying breed, Val, and in this city they’re all but extinct.” She spread her hand toward the man making a scene. “I give you exhibit one.”

  Valerie’s brows knotted at her friend’s blatant scowl. “Did something happen at work this morning? You’re wound tighter than a clock.”

  “Work is fine. Great, even. My career isn’t the most exciting on the planet, but for a book-geek like me, it’s a dream come true. New York Public Library is one of the most prestigious in the country. Those lions safeguarding our steps are no joke. Librarians are fierce when it comes to the written word.”

  “Okay, so why are your panties in a bunch then?”

  Hannah lifted her chin. “They’re not. I merely made a clued-in observation about the kind of available men in Gotham these days. I mean seriously, Val. What are our choices? Wall Street cutthroats, Madison Avenue workaholics, wannabe actors, hipsters in skinny jeans and stupid hats, or overgrown boys still in grungy hoodies who haven’t bathed in weeks.” She made a face. “Batman has definitely left the building.”

  “Damn, girl, you’re depressing the shit out of me.”

  Hannah exhaled. “It’s hopeless. When it comes to survival of the fittest, the gene pool has dried to a shallow puddle. Even more so if you’re a curvy girl.”

  Val stirred her drink, watching the scowl deepen on her friend’s face as the hissy fit continued at the checkout.

  “What’s the matter, Hannah?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not a fan of generation man bun?”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “You know, Jason Momoa has a man bun.”

  Hannah choked, reaching for a napkin. “Not a fair comparison. That boy is gorgeous no matter what. He’s the exception to the rule. Him and whatshisname who plays Jon Snow on Game of Thrones.”

  “Kit Harington.” Valerie grinned, crunching a piece of ice. “So we’re back to GoT fantasies, huh?”

  A small grin softened what was left of Hannah’s scowl. “Remind me never to tell you anything. Ever.”

  “I don’t blame you.” She lifted a shoulder. “You could do worse while working a little battery-operated action.”

  “Val!”

  “C’mon, Hannah, all things considered, it can’t be as bad as all that. You’re a beautiful, voluptuous woman with a lot to offer.”

  “A lot of junk in the trunk.” Her brood took on a million-mile stare, before she lifted her eyes from her sandwich. “You know what? You’re right. I do have a lot to offer—” A shy, but proud, smile tugged at her lips. “I didn’t tell you, but I got a promotion yesterday.”

  Valerie’s eyes brightened. “That’s terrific! Why didn’t you say something before?”

  Giving Val an offhand shrug, Hannah smiled. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to let it sink in. It’s what I’ve been hoping for since day one. Research fellows are very rarely allowed to work solo, but I was given the green light. Rare books and folios.”

  Heat kissed her cheeks at Valerie’s excited face. “I probably sound like a mega geek to you, but the collection is unbelievable! We’ve got original manuscripts that go back centuries, Val. Political and historic documents, and some of the first pressings of classic legends like the first of the Arthurian stories and medieval mythologies—Arthur and Merlin, dragons and mythical beasts. Plus, I get to do a bit of restoration work.”

  “Wow. More book boyfriends to add to your already extensive collection. And dragons, too. How do you contain yourself?”

  “Go ahead. Make fun.” Hannah smirked, unabashed. “A girl has got to do what a girl has got to do. And what’s wrong with wishing for a sweep you off your feet and toss you over the shoulder kind of man? A smart, confident, utterly masculine lover that leaves you breathless and robs you of coherent thought with a single kiss.”

  She slid a disapproving eye toward the beanie-clad boys standing alongside the coffee bar. “This lot couldn’t pump one collective muscle, let alone throw a woman over their shoulder in the heat of passion. As far as I’m concerned, their skinny jeans spell premature ejaculation. In capital letters.”

  Val laughed out loud. “Dude, that is so wrong. Funny, yeah. But wrong.”

  Hannah shrugged again. “You only think it’s funny because it’s not hard to picture. Admit it.”

  Val considered her friend. “Well, if it’s a beefy man’s man you want, you might want to think about taking your nose out of your books for a minute and look elsewhere.”

  “Not anywhere around here.” Hannah snorted. “And stop looking at me like I’m color guard for the lonely hearts club band.”

  Valerie laughed even harder at that. “Well, Sergeant Pepper, I meant look elsewhere as in don’t give up hope. You believe in fairytale fantasies, maybe there’s a guardian angel waiting for the right moment to swoop in and play matchmaker.”

  “Jeez. I was only kidding when I said we were doomed. You don’t have to poke fun.”

  “I’m not poking fun, Hannah. I know I come off as elitist sometimes, but you know better than that. Hell, I still go to church on Sunday.”

  “I know, Val.”

  Her friend reached for her hand. “Then take advantage of the one time I show my soft underbelly in public. Look this up, book geek. Hebrews 13:2.”

  “Why?”

  “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “And I thought you were kidding when you said guardian angel.”

  “Got your attention, though.” Val grinned with her straw between her teeth.

  “Yeah, in a ‘who are you and what have you done with my best friend’ kind of way.”

  “You can sniff all you want, Miss Bookaholic Pants, but I know you, Hannah. You are too prone to closing the door, and not in a no-tell motel do-not-disturb fun way.”

  At Hannah’s pursed lips, Val laughed. “Save the Madam Librarian death stare for the shelves, girlie. When you get that crinkle between your eyes, I know hear me, even when you don’t want to admit it.”

  “I do hear you, but it feels like I’ve got a neon sign buzzing over my head. Desperate Fat Woman in Heat.” She pulsed her hands open and closed. “Makes me want to close the door, sometimes.”

  Val’s grin faded and she leaned forward in her seat. “Again with the fat jokes. You do this to yourself all the time. Why? So, you’ve got curves? Big deal. So do half the women in the free world, me included. You just agreed you have a lot to offer and now you’re backpedaling. I’ve half a mind to revoke your membership in the curvy girl club if you don’t accept you’re a beautiful woman, inside and out…f
or real.”

  “I know, but—”

  Val picked up her drink again. “No buts. Especially when baby got back the way we do. As for finding men who appreciate a fully fleshed woman, the answer is closer than you think. My mother drummed that bible passage into my head for years. Take the religious aspect out, and it boils down to nothing more than random acts of kindness. You never know how helping someone else might end up helping you, or just the opposite if you’re an asshole.”

  The bells on the café door jangled. The jerk with the coffee problems left in a huff, and Hannah looked from him to the barista. The poor girl looked raked over the coals.

  “I see what you mean,” Hannah replied. “Karma.”

  “Exactly…and we could all use a little good Karma these days. So, no more Negative Nancy, okay?” Val dropped her chin. “I mean it, Hannah. In fact, I think we should go out this weekend to celebrate your new job. A boost to set the mood for whatever comes next.”

  Hannah picked up her iced tea and held it out for a toast. “To friends who aren’t afraid to call a spade a shovel.”

  “Exactly.” Clinking plastic, Valerie laughed. “…and to good Karma. May we find both when we need it most.”

  Chapter Two

  Hannah walked at a fast clip. She was late for work. Not a good omen, considering today was day one of her new promotion. Still, she needed to make a stop before heading across town.

  She rounded the corner by her neighborhood park and slowed her pace. At this time of the morning, Aggie was most likely bundling her meager belongings into her shopping cart for the day.

  Almost six months ago, Hannah had inadvertently crashed headlong into the poor, homeless woman. Like many these days, she was preoccupied with her cellphone, deaf and blind to her surroundings, and didn’t see Aggie cross from the park to the sidewalk. The old lady wasn’t hurt, thankfully, but Hannah felt responsible since.

  “Aggie?” she called, poking her head past the vine-covered entrance.

  The green was public property, but Aggie and a few others called it home during soft weather, so much so it felt wrong to walk through the gate uninvited.

  Sam looked up from his stained newspaper, spotting her hesitation. “Hannah! Good morning comes in spite of sorrow, and at my window, bids good morrow.”

  With a wink, he inclined his head, obviously proud of his paraphrased prose. “Milady is by her tree, as per usual.”

  “That’s lovely, Sam.” She flashed the old peddler a smile. “Nothing like starting the day with a little romance.” Hannah held out the wax paper bag in her hand. “Blueberry with sugar crumble topping. Your favorite.”

  The scruffy old man met her eyes with a craggy grin, accepting the treat. “In this cold world, you are a warm blessing, child.”

  Peddler Sam couldn’t be more than sixty years old, though time and circumstance had taken its toll. He earned his nickname from the odd bits and pieces he picked up on his daily sidewalk circuit, and like Aggie, he called the neighborhood park home. His quick smile and old-fashioned manner made him one of Hannah’s favorites. Next to Aggie, of course.

  “I haven’t had much experience with blessings, but I’m happy you think so.” Hannah hiked her overstuffed backpack higher on her shoulder, turning to where Aggie sat.

  “Aggie takes after the old bird woman from Mary Poppins, no?” Sam nodded toward old woman.

  As always, Aggie sat beneath the large black oak, dressed in an oversized sweater coat, with a long skirt and worn boots. She wore her salt and pepper hair braided and coiled around her head, making her ears jut out.

  “More like a cross between Yoda and an aging Princess Leia.” With a short laugh, Hannah winked a goodbye to Sam, and headed for the Aggie’s bench.

  After their sidewalk collision, Hannah wanted Aggie to stay at her place. Or at the very least, let her help file the tedious government forms needed for assistance and housing. The old woman flatly refused.

  “I am where I can best see the world and the people in it. How else can I find what I must?” She smiled, taking Hannah’s hand in her gnarled fingers. “We have a saying in my world, i elefthería zei ekeí pou oi ángeloi pernoún ágnostes. Roughly translated, it means freedom lives where angels pass unaware.”

  Aggie never explained her cryptic reasoning, nor did she give an inkling as to her past. Except her name. Aglaope. Pronounced, Ag-Lie-O-Pee. As unusual as the old woman herself.

  “You know, I hold my breath at that gate every morning,” Hannah said, sliding the heavy backpack off her shoulder to the bench. “You have to promise you won’t go AWOL again. I don’t understand why you’re so pigheaded about the prepaid cellphone I gave you.”

  Aggie’s eyes sparkled despite layers of city grime. Sitting on her bench, she seemed almost regal. As if holding court or waiting to be summoned.

  “Stop making a fuss.” The corners of Aggie’s mouth tweaked up. “I’ve survived for a very long time without modern contraptions. Outward appearances can be deceiving, dear. I’m a lot stronger than you know, so don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “Hey, I’m the librarian, remember?” Hannah grinned, unzipping the top of her backpack. “Still, I don’t ever want to go through what I went through last month. You cannot just disappear on me.”

  “I didn’t disappear. I knew exactly where I was.”

  “Not the point at all. Days of frantic calls to the police and social services, not knowing if you were dead or alive is not my idea of fun. You still haven’t explained where you went. Only to show up again, healthy as a horse, as if nothing happened.”

  Reaching inside the open backpack, Hannah took out a stack of plastic containers, piling them on the bench. “This should be enough food to last everyone a couple of days or so. Could you parcel it out? I’d do it myself, but I’m already late for work.”

  “I knew you’d get the promotion,” the old lady beamed, flashing small, white teeth. “Yet, here you are making time for us.”

  “It’s no bother. I like doing for you guys.”

  “I know, but isn’t it time you started doing for yourself? This promotion might be a sign you’re about to embark on a whole new life. An adventure.” Aggie angled her head mischievously. “I think it’s time you met someone nice. A mate.”

  Hannah snorted a little. “That’s funny. Valerie and I had this same conversation yesterday. Are you sure you two aren’t in cahoots or something?”

  Aggie didn’t blink as she held Hannah’s gaze. It was a little unnerving, and for a second it seemed her eyes flashed iridescent blue.

  “Whoa, for a second I thought—” The shimmer was gone. If was ever really there in the first place.

  Hannah squeezed her eyes closed, preoccupying herself with the food containers. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Val,” she said, dismissing the weirdness as the result of too little sleep and too little caffeine.

  “There are no such guys in Gotham, Aggie. They’re an extinct species. All that remains are next gen Neanderthals and the walking wounded.” She zipped her backpack as if punctuating the statement as final.

  “That may be so, love, but everything isn’t always as it seems on the surface. Sometimes you have to look beyond to find what’s needed. What’s wanted. I know you well enough to know you believe in the impossible. That fantasy isn’t always just fiction. It’s merely a truth that hasn’t yet revealed itself.”

  “You make me sound like a dreamer.”

  “And what’s wrong with being a dreamer? Your generation can’t move from point A to point B without your cellphones, yet those devices were once just a dream. Now they put a universe of information at your fingertips.”

  Hannah chuckled. “Yes, but most people use that infinity of knowledge to look at cat videos and take selfies.”

  Aggie smiled. “It’s a shame you can’t see yourself as I see you, Hannah. So pretty and so clever.” She lifted one of the containers and sniffed. “Ooh, yummy.”

  “I do ancient fol
io research. Clever comes with the job description. Though, I’m not so sure about the pretty part. Thick isn’t appreciated in a world where the ideal woman has the body of a prepubescent boy, and men manscape.”

  “Manscape?” Aggie’s face crinkled into an adorable prune.

  “Brazilian ball waxing.”

  Aggie stopped peeking in the food containers and blinked. “You mean they wax their nether bits?”

  “Yup, and everywhere in between, among other things.” Hannah slipped the empty backpack onto her shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying I’ve got a thing for hairball monkey men, but when guys wax more than the average woman—” Hannah shook her head.

  “You want a man’s man. A strong, throw you over his shoulder, mysterious type. Sexy.”

  Hannah chuckled at where this conversation went, and how deftly Aggie had managed to steer it to Hannah’s love life. Or lack of one, to be exact.

  “I don’t want a brute, but a guy with skills?” She played along, humoring the old lady. “Why not? A man’s man. Exactly. Hard to attract in this neck of the woods, especially if you’ve got jiggly bits.”

  Aggie put the food container in her hand on the bench with the others, and then pushed herself up from the bench. Mumbling, she walked toward her stowed belongings to rummage through a worn duffel.

  “Where I come from, jiggly bits, as you call them, are highly regarded. A woman with curves is both preferred and sought after.” She pulled a cracked leather volume from the inside the old bag, and then turned back to Hannah with it in hand.

  “I’ve been around for a very, very long time, Hannah. People like me are invisible. The sidewalks are filled with individuals who walk past, unseeing. In years past, we were loathed, persecuted, even. Many believe the circumstances in which we live are the result of some unnamed crime, and well deserved. In my case, that may be true,” she spared a glance for Sam and the others, “not so much for the rest.”

  Aggie held out the worn book. “After all the kindness you’ve showed, I want you to have this.” She nodded. “I decided while I was away. I’ve read your heart enough. It’s time.”