Once Upon A Dragon

by Selena Kitt

  “Bring her up.” Kai gave him a nod, ignoring the continued question in the man’s eyes. If he couldn’t answer it for himself, he sure as hell couldn’t tell Sebastian why meeting this woman tonight—and hopefully impressing the hell out of her—was so important.

  Kai poured himself more wine and filled the other glass across from his on the little table that stood between the chairs. He thought wine in the sitting room—he really didn’t do a lot of living in it—would be a good prelude to dinner. Well, under the circumstances, he thought wine anywhere was a good idea. Not that he was out to get her drunk. He just thought alcohol might help to loosen her up a little. And him, too.

  He picked up his wine glass, staring moodily into it, knowing he was going to need something stronger than wine to accomplish that goal tonight. It wasn’t just first-date nerves—although he didn’t even know if this could be considered a date—his whole body felt taut, something inside him coiled, ready to spring free.

  “Julianna Monroe,” Sebastian announced.

  Kai rose, turning to see her standing in the doorway, clutching a small purse in her hands, and looking around the room like she’d never seen anything quite like it before. And Kai thought the same thing about her. The woman who had tromped around her yard in riding boots—not that she’d looked bad in them—had been transformed into a stunning vision, a creature not quite of this world.

  She floated into the room toward him, no greeting, not yet—instead, she turned her head, gazing up at the skylights and the rows of books that lined the room, nearly to the top of the vaulted ceilings. Kai took the opportunity to gaze at the tight, red dress and matching heels she wore—the woman in them made his mouth go dry and his hands turn clammy. He felt like a high school kid on prom night.

  “Oh, by the way, it’s Jules,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Sebastian. “No one calls me Julianna anymore.”

  “Miss Julianna.” The old man gave her the hint of a smile, glancing at Kai. “Shall I leave you until dinner, Sir?”

  “Thank you, Sebastian.” Kai waved his hand to dismiss him, turning his attention to Jules. She’d wandered over to the shelves to examine the spines of the books there.

  “These are ancient,” she remarked, running a finger down one of the tomes. Her fingernails were short and unpainted, but her fingers were long, delicate. He thought she should be playing an instrument, not riding horses. Especially given her talent. “Is this Gaelic?”

  “Yes,” he replied, surprised. “My ancestors were from Scotland. Back in the dark ages.”

  “Mine too!” Jules turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her hair was pinned up in loopy curls, leaving her long, slender neck exposed. He had the sudden urge to let her hair down, to feel it in his hands.

  “Well, I don’t know how far back,” she confessed. “But my father was interested in genealogy. He traced my mother’s line to roots in Scotland. She knew some Gaelic, actually. She taught it to me. She knew lots of songs. Her mother taught her.”

  “Really?” He perked up. “Want to sing me one? I’d love to hear you sing in Gaelic.”

  She smiled and blushed. “Not right now.”

  “Excuse me, Sir?” Sebastian poked his head in. “Would you like the hors d'oeuvres served in here?”

  “No, we’ll come to the dining room,” Kai told him with a nod.

  “Very good, Sir.”

  When Sebastian was gone again, Jules turned to him, her eyes dancing.

  “Do you know what I think?” she mused. “I think you’re Batman.”

  Kai chuckled, distracted from the plunging neckline of her dress by her comment.

  “You had me picked up in a limo, you have a servant who has an eerie resemblance to Alfred... and this house!” She looked around in wonder. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a Batcave.”

  “Oh, I have a cave,” Kai admitted cryptically, taking her elbow, and leading her toward the table where he’d poured them wine. “But I’m not Batman.”

  “And you’re not a wolf shifter... right?” she asked, accepting the glass from him as they sat across from one another.

  “No.” He watched her sip her wine, her gaze still moving around the room. “But I’ve known the Wildes for a long time.”

  “This view is amazing.” Jules stood, walking over to the wall of glass on the south side of the house. “How much property do you own?”

  “Less than you.” He smiled when Jules looked back at him, her eyebrows raised. “Yes, I did a little research. You’ve got almost a thousand acres out there, most of it cleared pasture.”

  “And yours is all woods.” She came back to sit in the chair, finishing her wine. “This house has so much glass—bad news in a zombie apocalypse.”

  “I’m not worried.” He chuckled, picking up the bottle. “More wine?”

  She held her empty glass out and he poured. Her cheeks were alcohol-flushed, little roses blooming in them.

  “I have to admit, when Cass told me about you, I thought...” Jules hesitated, biting her lip.

  “You thought...?” He poured himself more wine, enjoying the way her cheeks reddened even more.

  “Well, you know... retired investment banker. I had an image in my mind that was more like Sebastian than you.”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  Jules hid a smile behind her wine glass. “No.”

  “Sir, dinner is ready,” Sebastian announced from the doorway.

  Kai stood, holding a hand out to Jules, who took it as she rose. They took their wine glasses to the dining room down the hall. Kai didn’t use it very often—he didn’t entertain much—but even he had to admit it was impressive. Jules’s reaction thrilled him. She gasped out loud, running as fast as she could in heels to the wall of glass to see the view on the west side of the house.

  “With this much glass, I’d be afraid to walk around my own house,” Jules called over her shoulder and then laughed. “Especially naked.”

  “I own all of that,” he reminded her. “No one would see you—besides me.”

  The sun was going down beneath the trees, casting a soft, orange glow into the room. Jules’s blush was hidden in the sunset and he noticed, when she looked back at him, that those gold flecks in her eyes were dancing.

  “So, what’s for dinner?” she asked, smiling a thank you to Sebastian as he held her chair. “Did you make this poor man cook supper for us?”

  “Sebastian loves to cook gourmet meals,” Kai protested. “Don’t you, Sebastian?”

  “I live for it, Sir.” The sarcasm in his voice made Jules laugh and the sound of it delighted Kai so much, he didn’t bother forcing the old man to admit what he said was true.

  Jules exclaimed over the first course—a cold watermelon soup. Kai hardly tasted it, because he was too busy refilling her wine glass and listening to her tell him about her ranch, her horses, her clients, and her family.

  “It isn’t easy being alone in the world,” Kai agreed as Sebastian cleared their soup bowls and Jules thanked him for the third time for their first course. The old man was enjoying the attention, Kai could tell. “I know what it’s like to lose everyone you love.”

  “Do you?” She sat back in her chair, studying him. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, curious as one of her new barn cats. “I’m sorry... your... wife?”

  Kai felt a sudden weight on his chest and a wave of sadness he hadn’t experienced in a thousand years. He had no photographs or drawings, nothing to remember her by, but the image of his beloved still burned bright in his memory.

  “A very long time ago.” Kai poured himself another glass of wine, seeing a puzzled look on her face.

  “But...” She worried her lip between her teeth, a gesture that drew his gaze and quickened his pulse. “You can’t be... I mean, I’m twenty-three... so you can’t be any older than... thirty?”

  “Where are those salads, Sebastian?” he called, clearing his throat, grateful to see the old man bringi
ng in two plates.

  Jules was distracted by the salad, at least momentarily—long enough for Kai to find words.

  “I guess it feels like I’ve been alone a long time,” he told her, watching her lick dressing from the corner of her mouth. He chided himself for staring, but he couldn’t seem to help it. “Like you, I don’t have any family. Only a few close friends.”

  Jules nodded, chewing, looking thoughtful. “I don’t really let people get close anymore. There’s Stuart, but we’ve been friends since we were little kids.”

  “Stuart?” He fought his urge to spit the man’s name—and Kai didn’t even know him. But he already didn’t like him. And not just because Jules clearly thought the world of the moocher. “The booty call?”

  “It wasn’t a booty call.” She rolled her eyes, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her napkin. He just gave her a long, steady look until she sighed and admitted, “Okay, we dated. Back in high school. But it’s over—it’s been over for a long time.”

  “So, what did Stuart want then?”

  “None of your damned business.” Jules put her fork down and those little gold flecks in her eyes sparked like she had a fire burning inside.

  “Money then.” Kai chuckled when she huffed at him but didn’t deny it. “How much did you give him?”

  “Didn’t I just say it’s none of your business?” she snapped. Her attitude changed slightly when Sebastian came to collect the salad plates, but her color was still high.

  He didn’t like how defensive she got about this Stuart guy. If he hadn’t already disliked him, that alone would have raised his hackles.

  “Is it warm in here?” Jules fanned her flushed cheeks with one hand.

  “I apologize,” Kai said. “I do like it warm—mostly so I can walk around the house naked.”

  He couldn’t help smiling when she looked over at him, aghast, until she realized he was joking and then burst into a bright, lovely laugh.

  “You’re incorrigible,” she said with the shake of her head. “Seth warned me.”

  “Did he?” Kai glanced at Sebastian as the old man took his plate. “Can you make it cooler in here?”

  “Certainly, Sir.”

  “Are you sure he’s not Alfred?” she whispered as Sebastian left the dining room.

  “Was it more than a thousand?” Kai persisted.

  “Oh fine.” She threw her napkin on her lap, sulking, as she took another sip of wine. “It was just that. A thousand.”

  Kai didn’t say anything, but the thought of her giving Stuart money—and while he didn’t know the man, he knew enough from Cass Wilde and her penchant for gossip—made his jaw clench.

  “You know, he really just needs to find something he loves to do,” she said, making excuses for him. At least, that’s all he heard. “I’m lucky to have the ranch, to have found something I love to do. He’s just kind of... lost and looking. If I can help him find that thing, to be happy...”

  “Sounds to me like he’s already happy,” Kai observed. “Taking your money.”

  For a moment, she glared at him, defiant, and then her shoulders sank. Her whole body sagged in the chair. He thought he’d never seen anyone look so defeated.

  “I care about him,” she said finally, crossing her arms, and looking out the wall of glass at the slowly sinking sun.

  “You care too much.” He wanted to gather her up, to comfort her, to kiss that sad, downturned mouth. Kai swallowed the urge. “You care about your horses and you care about kids like Evan—and his mom. You care about Stuart. You care so much about everyone else—but Jules... who cares for you?”

  She blinked at him, speechless, drawing her lower lip in for a moment, her brow creased in thought.

  “Your parents aren’t coming back to care for you,” he said softly, seeing the hurt in her eyes. “And I know what that’s like, too. Believe me.”

  Her gaze dropped to the table but not before he saw how wet her eyes were.

  “Have you ever flown on a plane?” he asked.

  That startled a laugh out of her. “Of course, I have. I’m not that sheltered.”

  Sebastian was coming in with their main course—pork tenderloin, asparagus and roasted red potatoes—and Kai waited for him to go before continuing. Jules pushed her food around her plate, far less animated than she’d been when she came in. He was sorry for that—but he couldn’t help her if she didn’t first acknowledge that she needed help.

  “You know how, on an airplane, they tell you to put your oxygen mask on first?” He cut his piece of pork—the knife went through it like butter—watching her nod. “Like, if you have a child or someone elderly who needs help—they tell you to put your mask on before theirs. Right?”

  “Yeahhh.” Jules drew the word out, looking askance at him, like she knew where he was going. And of course, she had to know. It was obvious. She just didn’t like it or want to admit it, he thought.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  She chewed thoughtfully, taking a sip of wine before answering. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “Right.” He gave her a nod and a small smile. “That’s what everyone thinks, every time the flight attendant gives that spiel. Of course, we know—we’re not idiots. But when the plane is going down, when everyone is panicked and the child on your lap grabs onto you for help... then what? Do we remember to put our masks on first? Or do we instinctively reach out to help the helpless?”

  “Okay.” She sighed, stabbing a potato. “I get your point.”

  “Self-sacrifice can be noble,” he told her. “The mother who gives her life for her child. The husband for his wife...”

  “Go on,” Jules urged when Kai grew quiet.

  He cleared his throat. “You have to pick your battles. If you keep giving and giving, well... eventually you’ll run out of oxygen.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” The look on her face was pained.

  “I have a feeling you don’t say that very often.” He chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him and tried not to think of the things he wanted to see her do with it.

  “I’m not telling you this from some lofty height,” he assured her. “I learned this the hard way. I’m only saying this because I don’t want you to have to learn that lesson as hard as I did.”

  “Well... then thank you.” She was still scowling, but he’d gotten through to her. Then she looked up at him, lost and confused and quite frightened underneath that tough exterior. He knew she wouldn’t have allowed it, but he ached to hold her. “But Kai... I think it may be too late. I’m already out of air... or, to stop with all the metaphors... out of money.”

  “I can help with that.”

  She looked doubtful, but she didn’t refuse him. That was a great leap forward, as far as he was concerned, and he let it go until after dessert—lemon-ginger cheesecake. Jules exclaimed over it and thanked Sebastian a thousand times.

  “I’m not used to all this luxury,” she admitted, sitting back in her chair with a happy sigh. “I usually open a can of soup or microwave a Lean Cuisine after working with horses all day.”

  “I’m more of a steak, potato and beer guy,” Kai told her. “But I thought you’d like to see a sample of what money can buy.”

  “It was really lovely,” she said as Sebastian took their dessert plates. “I’m so full, I think I need a nap.”

  “They say exercise after a meal aids digestion.” Kai stood, holding a hand out to her.

  “Are we going to do yoga?” She laughed, taking his hand, and standing.

  “Do I look like a yoga kind of guy?” He snorted, not letting go of her hand as he led her out of the dining room, telling Sebastian to bring them coffee in the sitting room.

  The sun was a half-circle above the tree line as he opened a record player, turning it on.

  “I haven’t seen one of those in years,” Jules said, looking over his shoulder as he put on a forty-five and set the automatic arm. “My parents had one. I think it’s in the attic.”


  “Dance with me?” Kai turned to look at her and Jules hesitated for just a moment.

  Then the music was playing with the fine, faint scratch of vinyl. There was something innately nostalgic about it. Jules let him put his arms around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. In the light of the setting sun, her hair’s auburn highlights burned like embers and they moved together as one.

  “Oh, you didn’t.” Her voice and laugh were soft when she recognized the song and he smiled, keeping her tight in the circle of his arms.

  But of course, he had. Roberta Flack’s song filled the room, and in his arms, Jules hummed along. Kai closed his eyes, entranced, taken back to the first time he’d heard her sing. Even her hum transfixed him, the vibration of it full and warm against his chest. She fit perfectly in his arms, just like he’d hoped she would. Some part of him had known all along.

  “You should’ve been a singer,” he murmured, daring to stroke her hair, like he was taming a wild animal. “You’re wasting an amazing gift.”

  “You haven’t seen me ride a horse,” she countered, and he chuckled.

  “I’m sure you’re a gifted rider, too.” His fingers tangled in her hair. He wanted to tilt her head back and kiss her, but he knew better. They were both under the spell of the music, and he was content, for now, to have her in his arms. The song ended, but the automatic arm moved and reset the needle to the beginning.

  “You’re going to play this all night?” She turned her face up to his, her arms around his neck now.

  “As long as you’ll dance with me.”

  She searched his face, looking for something—he didn’t know what—and then put her head back on his shoulder. They swayed together like that for another go-round or two of the forty-five he’d picked up at the vintage store downtown. He lost track of how many times the song re-played.