“‘Tis not the dragon’s fault, Lord Mansfield. It’s the handler. I have several dragons that I’ve trained. They are faster than horses and very loyal. Not at all beasts if treated with kindness.”
“I agree with the loyalty. Elan’s dragon’s, from what I’ve seen, almost respond to the man before he gives them an order.” Lord Mansfield looked at his daughter. “As for the kidnapping, I’ll accept this ending to your story and not inquire about the beginning where I know you ran away again.” He gave her his stern stare. “Sir Pembroke, I would very much like you to stay for a few days until I can think of a suitable recompense for your gallantry.”
“The safe return of your daughter is sufficient reward, M’lord.” Ware gave a bow.
“Nonsense, there must be something, even if it’s our hospitality for a few days.”
“I would like to discuss with you a matter involving Irisa.”
“Yes, the sunshine in my day. I fear I’ll miss having her around once she marries Sir Tulane.”
Suddenly Ware couldn’t breathe as if all the air was sucked from his lungs. Irisa turned her gaze from him.
“I would stay if I could, but I have pressing matters that require me at home,” Ware replied.
“Another time then.” Lord Mansfield suggested.
Ware nodded and turned away. Feeling hurt and foolish, he made his long strides swift for the exit. When he tried to think of all the things he’d miss about Irisa, anger seeped into the place in his heart he had relinquished to her.
“You can’t leave,” Irisa blurted out, running and catching his arm. “You wouldn’t make it home all in this day. Why not stay, eat and rest this night here? Then you could leave at first light.”
“That’s a splendid idea.” William came from behind and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We can catch up on old times.”
***
Irisa bit the inside of her lip waiting for Ware’s answer. She needed one more night with him—required it as if she’d not wake in the morning.
“My dragon and I accept your generosity, M’lady.” He bowed, keeping his gaze upon hers.
“Father,” Irisa led Ware back across the room. “Father, Sir Pembroke has decided to stay.”
“Excellent.” He motioned for a servant. “Show Sir Pembroke to a guest chamber where he might rest from his travels, then he can join us this evening for supper.”
Irisa watched Ware leave. At the doorway, he turned his head and looked back at her. She heaved a sigh for not being able leave with him.
“What is going on between the two of you?” her father asked.
“Who?”
“You and Sir Pembroke, that’s who.”
“What could there be? You’ve sold me to another knight.”
“I’ve not sold you. I arranged for you to have a decent marriage and an alliance with Sir Tulane. You agreed.”
She wandered around the room for a moment and finally plopped down in her father’s chair.
“He’s very nice.” She played with the laces of her gown, recalling Ware’s big hands tying the bodice closed without one clumsy move.
“That’s a great relief. I know Tulane can be overbearing, but you are a charming young woman and I know you can handle him.”
“Not Sir Tulane, Father. I meant Sir Pembroke.”
“Pembroke?”
“Yes. He’s extremely considerate and very accommodating. Did he not come a long way to bring me home?”
“It’s a knight’s duty to protect a maiden.” His hands went to his hips and she saw a reproach coming before the words tumbled out of his mouth. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she grumbled. “Ware will go home in the morning and I shall marry Elan Tulane.”
She slowly shuffled across the room in defeat and then hesitantly glanced back at her father.
“Could you not rescind the deal you have made with Sir Tulane and consider another knight?”
“Impossible. Tulane commands a great army and I must have the alliance with him in case your Uncle James tries to follow through with his threat of taking control of Mansfield lands.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Many things in life are not fair, my child. If I could void the contract, I would. Unfortunately, this is one thing I cannot do to make you happy.”
Irisa strode from the great hall with an immediate destination in mind—to see Ware.
She tapped firmly on the door she’d find him behind and the barrier moved. Unlatched, the heavy wood swung inward on well-oiled hinges.
“M’lady.” A servant bowed her head.
“Leave,” Irisa ordered. “I’ll tend to Sir Pembroke’s bath.”
“While it’s customary for a woman of lesser breeding to attend to a guest’s ablutions, you M’lady are above that station.” Ware stood in the center of the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
He was annoyed with her. That was obvious by the way his eyes darkened and his stare held no affection.
She turned and latched the door, and then, walking up to him, she pushed him toward the partially filled tub.
“The servants will gossip,” he commented as he stepped in the bath.
“Naturally.” She tugged the towel from him and drew in a breath at the glorious sight of his buttocks. “Sit.”
“If your father should find out—”
“No one tells my father about anything I do.” She picked up a rag and wet it in the water between his drawn up knees. “I’m well liked.”
She swished the cloth several extra times, knowing beneath the rag lay the manliest part of him.
“You said you hadn’t been here in many years. Why not?” Soaping the cloth, she rubbed it over his shoulders and down his arm.
“Wars in other countries kept me away from home altogether.”
“Will you go away again?” She lifted his arm and washed under, moving across his chest.
“No.” Ware shuddered as she stirred the cloth over his nipple.
He rolled his fingers over the back of her hand and she shifted around to his other side to wash his other arm. When he lowered his arm, he put it around her waist and placed his head against her.
“I should have told you about Elan.” Irisa combed her fingers through his hair.
“It wasn’t information I needed to know.” He leaned away and scooted down into the water, tipping his head back against the rim of the tub.
Ware propped his feet on the opposite end and motioned for her to go on with bathing him. She washed his legs, taking her time dragging the rag up against the layer of hair. Over his knee and down his thigh, she wiped the inside. She pushed her hand below the water.
He snatched her wrist and pulled her forward, making her hang over the tub. She grabbed the rim to prevent from falling in and getting wet.
“Temptress,” he growled.
“Yes,” she answered with a breathless desire to have him kiss her.
“You play a dangerous game, Irisa.” He pushed her away.
She staggered back and he stood. His magnificent body rose from the water and he stepped out of the tub. With an imposing glare, he advanced and walked past her.
She watched him pick up the towel from the floor and impulse told her to touch him. She stretched out her arm and reached for the muscled cheek of his ass.
“You should go.” Ware moved to the basin of water before her fingers made contact with his taut flesh.
She couldn’t leave. Not when she had so little time left to be with him.
Ware soaped his face and took a knife to shave the stubble from his skin.
“I could do that for you.”
He glanced back. She saw him consider it and reject her offer.
“Damn.” He nicked his jaw.
“I won’t cut you.”
He paused at her words. Turning, he sat on a stool and held the blade out. She reached and he drew it back, taking her hand in his other. He touched her fingers and turned over her h
and. “Be careful. I don’t like blood.”
“Yes, I remember, especially your own.”
Each stroke of his thumb over the web of creases in the center of her palm caressed her heart. He trailed the blue veins crisscrossing to her wrist. She held still, even though the sizzling heat of his touch made her want to shiver.
***
Ware relinquished the blade and tilted his head back. Irisa angled the knife against his neck and carefully scraped it over his flesh. Looking down along his nose, he watched the concentration she put into the job. Her pink tongue peeked from between her lips. Her mouth moved with an adorable distraction to a generous amount of ideas he formed. Her firm breasts swelled above the gown’s bodice and he closed his eyes to avoid thinking of them.
“Tell me about the woman Sir Milstead mentioned,” she asked.
Ware opened his eyes, lifted his hands and put them on her hips.
“Let us be silent while you have a knife at my throat.”
“I have a surprise for you. I can walk, talk and think all at the same time.”
“Can you also not react?”
“To what?”
Ware moved his hands up her sides. Her trim waist widened slightly at her ribcage. He made no secret as to his intentions, maneuvering his fingers up under her breasts, squeezing gently the firm ripeness. He looped his forefinger over the rim of her gown where he stroked velvety skin and Irisa inhaled sharply.
“I feel your heart beating, Irisa.” He ventured into the valley of her warm flesh. “I want to fit myself between these.”
He jerked back from the stinging cut on his neck. The stool tipped and he fell on the stone floor.
“Irisa?”
“We’ll never see each other again!” she cried.
“Irisa, wait!” he yelled, calling her back from her rushed flight from the room.
She didn’t return.
He put his head back on the floor.
“Now that sight will scare anyone away.” Milstead’s voice brought Ware’s eyes open.
Ware sat up and looked at the open doorway.
“You have to watch that one, Pembroke. She’s not as tame as you would think a lady should be, and if you thought to bed the girl, you really are looking for trouble.” He held his hand out to help him up. “Though, I would imagine you know her father would be the least of your worries. He hasn’t been able to control her for years. However, t’would be Tulane that castrates you.”
Ware readjusted the towel around his waist. “I rather hoped I’d never have to hear about that man again.”
“You’re still in a snit over that dragon fight you lost.”
“He killed my best breeder. The fight wasn’t supposed to end in death. Those were the rules and he broke them.”
“He said it was an accident.”
Ware washed the traces of soap from his face and inspected Irisa’s job at shaving. She had done well even with the nick.
“If you believe that, then you’re a fool.” Ware dressed. “What’s he up to now?”
“I don’t know; marrying Irisa for one.”
“Why?”
“Have you taken a good look at her, Ware? What man doesn’t want to own that fiery damsel? I don’t know from experience, but I hear she’s not been shy with the men she’s taken an interest in.”
Ware didn’t want to hear about Irisa. She had to be set outside his thoughts.
“What else has been happening while I’ve been away? My brother hasn’t had time to tell me much, other than Lord Mansfield’s brother, Lord James has taken up the task of becoming the scourge of the land. Is he really preying on the poor like a vulture?”
“That is the reason Irisa has to marry Tulane. She wouldn’t if it weren’t for the arrangement her father made to protect his own lands.”
“Do you think it was Lord James that had Irisa kidnapped?”
“She really was kidnapped?”
“She was with the men that stole one of my dragons. I went after them and found her tied up in a field. What else am I to believe?”
“Knowing Irisa, I’m sure they thought better of their move in taking her. She would have given them a hard time. If you hadn’t noticed, the lady is a bit of a hellion.”
“Tell me, if Lord Mansfield needs the help of Tulane, what does Tulane get out of this, besides a wife? I wouldn’t think Lord James has the strength to invade Tulane’s land so Tulane wouldn’t need an ally.” Ware stomped his heel down into his tight boot.
“Haven’t you been listening to me? Irisa is a treasure he’s been paying court to since she was of age to marry.”
“And the Lady Irisa, she’s not encouraged him?”
“On the contrary, I don’t think she likes him in the least and it surprised me that she agreed to the marriage.”
“I thought her father arranged it.” Ware looked up from his chore of getting his other boot on.
“He did, but she approved.”
“Why, if she had a choice?”
“The lady is a constant mystery.”
“A beautiful one,” Ware muttered, hurt by the circumstances that prevented him from courting her.
“Yes, she is, so try not to look at her as if you hunger for the taste of her lips. Tulane is very protective of what’s his.”
Ware stiffened his back and put an arm over Milstead’s shoulders. “Speaking of hunger, I hope they have plenty of food, I’m starving.”
“Tonight the bounty will overflow the tables. Tulane has just arrived to lay claim to his bride.”
“Sir Pembroke!” a servant trotted up the stairs toward him. “Sir Pembroke, your dragon.”
“What about my dragon?”
“There are men deviling the poor creature.”
Ware didn’t ask anything more of the servant. He hurried through the castle and raced outside to the gate across the courtyard. Outside the walls, men taunted his dragon by throwing rocks. A dozen of them formed a half circle keeping his dragon near the pond.
Irisa’s voice caught his attention.
“Don’t do that!” she yelled at those that threw objects “He’s not done anything to deserve this.”
One man turned around and grabbed her wrists. “Sir Tulane’s dragons do not share the same pasture as anything this inferior.”
“There is plenty of room for more than one dragon.” She wrenched her arm out of his hold.
The warrior ignored her and she pushed around him, putting herself between the men and the dragon.
Ware saw the danger to Irisa and ran to her.
“Leave him be.” Irisa stooped, grabbed a fist full of stones and hurled them in defense of the dragon.
However, the dragon in his fright reared back and slung his head from one side to the other.
Ware plowed through the group. “Stay out of the way.” Ware pushed Irisa aside.
The dragon roared and flames blasted from his open mouth. The air overhead heated. While the crowd backed away and some fled, Irisa remained close. Ware approached the dragon with caution and snatched the reins.
“Ware,” Irisa’s voice trembled.
“Stand down,” he ordered the dragon and tugged on the lines.
His dragon fought the order and continued to snort and stomp his feet. Ware glanced at Irisa and then beyond. The hoard had parted and Ware saw the real danger.
“Tulane’s dragons do not share the same pastures,” a warrior riding a dragon yelled.
“Then Tulane can tell me himself.” Ware walked around and readied to put his foot in the stirrup of the saddle.
“He doesn’t have to when we’re willing to convey his message.” The warrior charged his dragon at Ware.
Agile and anticipatory of the warrior’s desire to fight, Ware mounted. It took three steps and the dragon lifted off from the ground into flight. Ware aimed him to the right of their opponent and swung back around.
A cheer from the spectators rose with an expectancy of a dragon fight. Ware no longer liked the s
port, but he wouldn’t back down from an attack.
The dragons took direction by their rider’s orders. However, they also used their instinctive nature as a form of protection from harm. Ware’s dragon dove at the warrior’s and as Ware expected, the beast drew back just before collision and spurred the dragon he attacked in the hind-end.
The warrior’s dragon roared and twisted his flight to the left, to the right and then soared straight up. When he came down behind Ware, he attempted the same method of assault. Ware didn’t give him a chance and directed his dragon to halt. The hesitant cessation of flight was good for a few seconds. The warrior flew by and missed them. Then Ware’s dragon spiraled in a downward fall from the sky and he knew there was no way to avoid the crash.
They landed with a huge splash in the pond.
“Ware!” Irisa waded in up to her knees.
He glared at her with a silent warning. It wasn’t hard to recall how she pulled him from drowning in a pond. This was not the time to let her act the rescuer.
“Up,” Ware commanded.
The dragon flapped his wings in long, up and down pushes that took them out of the pond. The warrior had landed amidst the crowd of people and Ware accepted the battle was over. He rode his dragon to the hilltop and took him to the other side, out of sight. If he hadn’t promised Irisa he’d not leave, Ware would have headed directly for home.
A Damsel in Distress: Chapter 4
In the couple of hours since Irisa’s return home, the castle had filled with people. Sir Tulane’s entourage numbered in the hundreds and his men had run off Ware. It made her understand her dislike of Elan even more. Not only was he a domineering oaf, so were his associates. Nevertheless, she understood, because of his nature, Elan had good reason to surround himself with ruthless barbarians. He made enemies of everyone—including her.
In their barracks, Tulane would have his guards.
In the forests, he would have his lookouts.
In witness of their marriage, he would have all the nobles in the country.
If she had learned anything at all about Elan, she knew he needed people around he trusted, to insure his safety and feel important.
“Our wedding night will be a dream come true for me, Irisa.” Elan had a hand at her back and slid another over her belly as he leaned and whispered in her ear. “But do not fear. I’ll be gentle with you in our bed.”
A Damsel In Distress • Dragon Fighter Romance Book 1 (Dragon Fighter Romance ~ Book 1) Page 4