There's Something About Dragons

by Selene Griffin

  “Many do,” he said with a soft laugh. “Over time, the image of Python changed from the Dragon that he was to the snake that people think of these days. But he was a Dragon just as you and I. One who found himself on the bad side of a powerful God.”

  She found herself becoming more and more enraptured by him as he spoke. That pompous, self-absorbed attitude she had found so off-putting the first time around seemed to totally disappear from him now. Suddenly, he was twice as attractive as he had been. All of those striking and well-crafted physical features of his, while dulled before by the way she thought about him, now seemed almost too much to handle. All of this talk of Gods… and she was starting to feel like she was sitting next to an Adonis.

  “And the…” She hesitated for a moment, obviously having forgotten the name of the other Dragon. “… other, who guarded the fleece? How does your heritage link back to the both of them?”

  “For a number of generations, the two lines remained completely separate families,” he went on to explain. “Over time, both the mountain Parnassus and the Grove of Ares became unsafe places and the two lines chose to merge for the added security. Years later, as the tourist traps and crowds took over more and more space, my family chose to pick up and leave.”

  “I suppose I can understand that.” She mused, a bit dreamily. “It must have been hard to leave everything behind though, don’t you think?”

  She stopped herself before she spoke more of her thought out loud. She understood very clearly the pain in leaving behind everything you had ever known. Well, sort of. She hadn’t left anything behind just yet, but with this whole Suitor ordeal she knew it was coming. No matter who she chose, in the end her marriage would have her leaving the Balaurescu estate for the home of whomever she married. Old traditions stood the test of time in their little part of the world. Dragons were still quite medieval in a lot of ways.

  “I suppose so.” He agreed. “But they took their time and planned their move carefully. After a bit of digging around they discovered the tale of Saint George. So many believed that the Dragon of that tale was from England… so the heritage line, or the idea of it, was available for the taking.”

  He paused a moment, turning to look at her. She knew she had a silly little smile on her face like a schoolgirl swooning over a crush, but she couldn’t wipe it away quickly enough to hide it from him. She knew she was caught by the way he smiled at her and turned his eyes down towards the grass. Thankfully, for her dignity, he kept talking.

  “It’s good to see you don’t judge us as thieves,” he commented, but then let her off the awkward hook. “If you’ve ever read some of the tales, you know that the English loved to hunt their Worms… as they called us, as by the time my family migrated to the Island nearly every Dragon family had been wiped out. Stepping in and taking up the Mantle of George’s Dragon, one that never actually resided in England, was simple enough.”

  “And your ancestors just… dropped their actual heritage?” She asked, sitting up slightly.

  “To the rest of the world, yes,” he said. “It was a slow thing, at first. But as time passed the younger generations dropped the old name and picked up the new one… and after a while the outside world just forgot.”

  “Well, I have to admit, Ladon Kholkikos doesn’t have nearly as nice a ring to it,” she said, maybe a bit flirtier than she had intended it to be. She felt that tell-tale heat rising up into her cheeks.

  “It’s nothing compared to the poetry that you were blessed with.” He offered back, his smile turning playful. “Isidora Balaurescu. Just as beautiful to say as it is to hear.”

  My oh my, what a silver-tongued scoundrel, she thought. Of course, his pretty words were made all the more powerful when combined with that strong jawline, gorgeous eyes and near perfect smile. She was starting to wonder if he had gotten work done at some point. There was no way any man could have been blessed with looks like that without a little help from a professional. She briefly wondered what would happen if a Dragon got plastic surgery. She had never heard of that before…

  “You can be quite charming, Mr. Drayce, do you know that?” She said with a smile.

  “When I find a good reason to be charming…” He said, trailing off as he turned to face her and slip his arm across the backrest of the bench. “I charm…”

  She pursed her lips softly in an effort to hold back her smile, glancing away briefly though she knew his eyes never left her. She found herself looking at the way he sat on the bench. How even when he was sitting he somehow managed to look like a sculpture. Then again… she could have simply contracted a serious case of rose colored glasses now that her first impression of him had been shattered.

  Unexpectedly, she felt the warmth of his hand gently brush against her chin. In a move that he most certainly ripped right from the pages of a Harlequin romance novel, he brought her face back up to look him in the eye and held her there with the gentlest touch she had ever felt. She swallowed hard.

  “Isidora Balaurescu,” he said, obviously enjoying the sound of her name. “May I kiss you?”

  Her breath caught in her chest and for a moment, she felt the world come to a screeching halt all around her. She felt a swell of pressure deep within her chest that threatened to burst out of her at any moment. How had he gone from being some seemingly pompous, spoiled brat to this smooth, charming Brit? By the time she caught her wits enough to answer him, a wry little smile had cracked out across his face. It was obvious, he could tell he had her swooning.

  “Of course.” She breathed, her voice wavering.

  The moment she gave her consent he leaned forward towards her. The hand at her chin slid slow and gentle up along her jawline and into that mass of dark, wavy hair. She closed her eyes just as his lips pressed against hers. Soft at first, as if he was giving her a moment to second guess herself, before he leaned into her with a firmness. She felt herself beginning to melt against him, against his lips and the warmth she felt coming from him. He smelled amazing, somehow both clean and rugged, and it filled her to the point where she felt she might burst. This was her first real kiss… and it was everything she had thought it would be.

  Their kiss didn’t end in a place of innocence. Though it was her first, Isidora felt a hunger for more that she never anticipated feeling. She found herself leaning closer to him, her hands finding their way to the solid muscle of his chest only to fuel the fire of need that had begun burning inside of her. Her hands wanted to feel more of him, to explore the expanse of his chest and find out for herself how fit his figure was. It seemed he felt the same about her.

  His one hand remained nestled within her hair, holding her lips close and tight against his own. Even as she kissed him she gently nuzzled her head against his hand. It seemed she simply couldn’t get enough of his touch… and he could tell. His other hand made its move, coming to rest for a moment against her knee before it began a slow but purposeful journey along her leg towards her outer thigh. At first, she tensed and was unsure about being touched in such a way, but the warmth of his hands and how gentle his every touch was… well, her tension faded just as quickly as it had arisen.

  She let her hands slide up and over his shoulders, her fingers gripping the muscles she found there as she pulled herself closer against him. She was nearly in his lap now and grew so bold as to draw up her leg against his, instigating him to let his hand feel further. He took her signal, letting his hand roam all the way to the curve of her hip before it dared to dip to take a gentle grip on her ass.

  A soft squeak of surprise slipped from her. She had never been in a situation like this before and it took that gentle grip of his on her ass to make her realize her body was controlling this whole thing more than her mind was. He must have misread her little noise, however, because at the sound of it he pressed in further to their kiss, parting his lips to let his tongue slip out and brush against her lips. The feel of it brought her focus back to that kiss, her desire to taste
more and more of him knocking away any thoughts of decorum or pulling away. Her body was winning the fight and she found herself trying very hard not to climb into his lap.

  It didn’t work.

  One moment she was scooted up close beside him, her one leg hooked over his and her arms wrapped around his neck. The next, she had somehow slid up to sit-saddle in his lap. Her dress, in the process of changing her seat, had inched up along her legs to expose more of her caramel thighs. Ladon wasted no time in caressing every inch of them that he could reach with those broad, warm hands of his.

  They fell into one another in such a way that neither had expected when they first greeted one another just hours before. It seemed as though a lifetime of desire had suddenly been given the freedom to come pouring out and neither of them fought against it. She let loose a heady sigh as his lips finally pulled themselves from hers… but her sigh was not for the loss of his kiss, but for the feel of them pressing against her neck. That sensitive slope had never experienced the tender touch of a man’s lips against them before and it sent shockwaves through her body.

  She clung to him. One hand slid up into his thick, dark hair while the other dipped down across his strong back. She felt his hands run down along her legs and then back up once more, slipping under the fabric of her dress on their return journey. The sensation of his hands running along her legs to the curve of her hips sent a thrill through her body, a wash of goosebumps setting across her skin for his fingers to explore. She could feel him smile against her neck.

  She felt his muscles tense. His shoulders shifted, his arms tightened around her and his hands gripped the curve of her hips with firm fingers. Her hips seemed to respond of their own accord, rolling against him in an effort to grind close against him. The rumbling little growl that her antics elicited from him titillated her. She bit down lightly on her lower lip, her one hand sliding back up over his shoulder from his back, so it could grip at his chest instead. As she moved her hand, so did he… but to a far less innocent place. While one of his hands remained gripping the curve of her hip, the other seemed to make its way to her inner thigh. His fingers searching.

  Suddenly she realized where things were going. As badly as part of her wanted to go there, and further, she knew it wasn’t what she really wanted. Nor was it the wisest choice for them to continue any further than they already had. At least, for now. Should anyone find out… all hell would break loose.

  Closing her eyes, she pursed her lips and pressed them into his dark hair. Her hand slid down his chest to find the wrist of his searching hand, gripping it gently to stop him. Her body tingled at his touch and it was all she could do to keep from writhing on top of him, but she managed.

  “Too much?” He asked before she could say anything, his words murmured against her neck.

  “Too far…” She said in a low, dusky tone.

  He said nothing, but slowly pulled his hand from where it had been hoping to explore between her legs and returned it to her outer thigh. At first, when he remained silent, she was afraid he was going to get upset about it and she would have to kick him out of her home. Thankfully, he fulfilled her hopes and remained the charming man he had turned out to be. She silently thanked her lucky stars.

  Relaxing, she remained on his lap for a moment. Sitting back, she let her dark eyes meet with his hazel ones and simply… studied his face for a moment or two. She wanted to be sure that he wasn’t just holding back his anger or irritation over her stopping him. She saw nothing. Not a hint to make her cautious or bring about disappointment. She couldn’t help the smile.

  “I promise you…” She said as she leaned towards him. “We will finish what we’ve started.”

  “Just promise I will get to see you again…” He said, before he kissed her again. “That’s all the promise I need.”

  It took every ounce of her willpower not to fall back into the trap that was his embrace as she kissed him again. She managed to pull away finally, all smiles, and slid from his lap to stand and straighten her dress. Licking her lips and straightening her hair, she gave him a look that promised everything they had come so close to having.

  “It has been wonderful seeing you again, Mr. Drayce,” she said, a smile still playing across her face. “I’m sure we will see one another soon.”

  “I can only hope, Miss Balaurescu,” he replied, looking at her in a way that stopped her heart.

  With that she turned and started to make her way to the nearest entrance back into the estate from the gardens. She did her best to seem casual, even with her heart fluttering beyond control. A single glance back over her shoulder was given, catching sight of him still seated on the bench as he watched her go. She had a feeling why he was staying seated… and it gave her quite the ego boost.

  Chapter Four

  Her mind was a million miles away from the task at hand, and yet she barely felt even a glimmer of guilt over it. Her afternoon with Ladon Drayce lingered with her for days after they parted ways and was threatening to affect her scheduled second date with Enzo Visconti. She had invited him to join her in the gardens just as she had with Ladon and just as she would with the other two suitors she had narrowed her choice down to. Uncle Geza had drilled it into her head that she had to keep the playing field even amongst her suitors lest she run the risk of offending someone.

  This whole business reminded her of a Royal pairing in medieval times, with her the Princess about to be married off to some stranger in order to gain the best alliance for her family. Thankfully, it wasn’t that barbaric… but still, every little detail mattered. Thus, she found herself idly wandering around the gardens with Enzo Visconti at her side. While she didn’t feel guilty for her mind wandering back to Ladon again and again… she did feel badly for Enzo, who had to suffer through her less than enthusiastic mood.

  “Your family’s gardens are stunning, Isidora.” He offered in an attempt to start a conversation.

  “Oh, thank you,” she responded, rather flatly.

  It didn’t really register to her that she could have given him the same explanation for the gardens that she had given Ladon. It’s not like there was any reason for her to keep the information to herself. She simply… didn’t feel the desire to get into it. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Ladon… and how to skip through this whole Suitor process and just get to the selection part early. Anything else just struck her as tiresome and slightly annoying.

  She could feel Enzo’s dark eyes on her and so she turned to look at him. He was a fairly handsome fellow, what with his striking Italian features. She did find his dark hair, olive complexion and deep brown eyes to be quite a nice combination however, and the scar across his cheek even added to it all somewhat. He was tall, taller than her other suitors, and while he was fit and somewhat muscular he also had a bit of a lanky look to him. Almost as if a man of Ladon’s physique had been stretched out a few more inches.

  “You seem as though something is weighing on your mind, Isidora,” he commented. “May I call you Isidora?”

  It was so strange, hearing her name said in such a myriad of different accents over this past year. Some, like Ladon’s English accent, had made her name sound like pure poetry. Others, sadly, sounded like torture to her ears. Enzo, with his strong Italian lilt, fit snuggly into the first category. Thankfully.

  “Of course, you may, Enzo,” she responded, trying to sound a little less bored. “My apologies if I gave you the impression my mind is elsewhere. It has simply been a rather busy few weeks and I find walking with you quite relaxing for my thoughts.”

  She was such a liar, but how would he ever know that? She offered him a smile that she hoped didn’t come off as too fake and continued to walk along with him. The very least she could do was be polite and somewhat present for an hour or two before making up some excuse to take her leave of him. She was expecting benign conversation about nothing worth remembering. Not what he said next.

  “Will your birth fami
ly be attending the wedding?” He asked, almost too casually, as he cast his gaze further up along the garden path. “After you make your final selection, of course.”

  “What?” She scoffed, looking at him with confusion and speculation.

  “Your brothers,” he said, bringing those dark eyes of his back to her. “I assume they will be attending the ceremony?”

  She stopped dead in her tracks and just stared at him hard as he stopped a few paces ahead of her. The confused look on her face was mixed with a number of other emotions she couldn’t quite latch on to. Irritation, anger, disbelief, amusement… it was an interesting cocktail and she almost laughed.

  “Brothers?” She said, again her tone full of disbelief. “I have no brothers… and what are you talking about? What birth family? I was born here.”

  She gestured around her to the gardens, mountain, and the estate buried within in. She was incredulous in her tone. What in the hell was he playing at? Her family was well known enough, considering who she was, that she had no idea where he was getting this nonsense from.

  “I… I’m sorry, Isidora,” he said, sounding slightly regretful. “I misspoke.”

  She just looked at him, the look on her face growing more irritated than confused now that he was attempting to take back what he had just said. Either he was playing some strange game that she did not enjoy one bit… or he was telling the truth about something she had no clue about.

  “No,” she said, stepping closer to him. Her dark eyes locked onto his. “I do not think you did.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. Her arms rose up to fold tightly across her chest and she simply scrutinized him. He remained silent at first, though he kept eye contact with her the entire time. It was almost as if he was gauging her, reading her, rather than attempting to keep his mouth shut. He was proving to be a hard man to read. She didn’t like it.