Kiss of the Dragon

by Christina James

  Kiss of the Dragon

  Christina James

  Blush sensuality level: This is a sensual romance (may have explicit love scenes, but not erotic in frequency or type)

  Bianca dreams of a man who will love her for herself and not her money. When her stepmother’s jealousy leads to an unending stream of suitors vying for her hand in marriage, Bianca fears her dreams are over.

  With the arrival of the dark and sexy Draco, the Black Dragon, Bianca plays the role of servant instead of a young lady of the castle to see where his true interests lie. But her deceptions lead to feelings she has never had before. Bianca is determined to have her dragon, but her stepmother has other plans.

  Draco doesn’t deny his physical need to bed the lovely Bianca. Rather than give in to his desires, he threatens to ride away; however, his honor demands he stay and protect her from the lethal attentions of others. The first problem is figuring out who wants her dead. The second is opening his heart to love.

  Inside Scoop: This medieval tale of French counts and gypsy intrigue contains violence, sneezing brothers, nasty horses and knights in dark armor.

  A Blush® historical romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Kiss of the Dragon

  Christina James

  Prologue

  The aging beauty moaned with satisfaction as she rolled off her young gypsy. A smile of contentment spread across her lovely face as she ran one hand over the wide, pelted chest of her lover and sighed.

  She owed this man more than just her life. He had helped to salve her sorely hurt pride after her disgraceful exodus from her brother’s estates in Burgundy. Accused of being a rich man’s mistress, she had been furious with her family for pointing out her disgrace. She hated them for being disloyal when rumors reached their ears of her wild behavior. Most of which were falsehoods, though not all. But still, her own family rejected her without question.

  As a penniless widow, she also hated that her brother had so much control over her life. To save face, he had sent her to their sister Katrina, deep in the heart of the southern French countryside.

  It was shortly after her arrival at the rustic estates, that her sister let Heloise know that she was to be introduced to the Duke de Neige, an eccentric local noble. The smug satisfaction in which her sister had delivered the dictate infuriated her. Heloise knew that Katrina wanted her gone from her house, knew that she had always been jealous of her for her beauty, for the way men flocked to her side at every social event. No matter that her sister claimed it was the only way to salvage what was left of her reputation.

  The thought of marrying a wealthy man was not disagreeable to her. There were many rewards to consider if she took the duke to her bed. With her insatiable sexual appetite and, after becoming a duchess and the mistress of her own castle, she could look for satisfaction wherever she pleased. A small smile played over her full, sensuous lips at the thought. As the Duchess de Neige, there would be no one to gainsay her, to outshine her.

  But still, she had hesitated. It was said that the Duke de Neige had a daughter, one old enough and beautiful enough to claim the attention of any man, including her father.

  It was the thought that she would be forever competing with a younger woman for the attention she considered her due that nearly spoiled Heloise’s mood.

  Heloise was still warm in the afterglow of the great sex she had just experienced with the huge, lusty man lying next to her. He alone, she regretted having to leave behind. He had been the one to offer her a strong, powerful shoulder to weep on when she most needed it.

  “My sweet lady, why so sad? Life cannot be so horrid as to bring a woman as lovely as you such distress.”

  Letting him pull her into his strong arms, Heloise accepted the comfort he offered with the warmth and strength of his body. She should have resisted. From the beginning, she should have resisted him, but her need for what he offered was greater than her pride.

  He was a wild gypsy. A forbidden pleasure she hid from the world. He had the most beautiful dark eyes that looked at her with such passion. His perfectly sculptured lips begged to be kissed. He made her feel young.

  His sudden appearance in her sister’s stable months before should have set off alarms in beautiful Heloise’s mind. It was his fortune that she took him for a groom, and therefore, fair game. In fact, his reason for being there was to pave the way to a more lucrative future that this self-centered noblewoman could provide for him. With that in mind, he pushed her gently into thinking she was the one to seduce him. He hid his smile in her hair before placing a tender kiss on her temple.

  Their innocent flirtation had steadily grown into a passionate love affair, one which he thoroughly enjoyed. At first, he feared their forbidden assignation might have gone beyond all propriety. She let him hold her and soon she surrendered to her needs and he took his ease with her.

  He knew she worried about her age, but he also knew how to make her feel young and beautiful. He let her know in the subtlest way that he was interested in her as a woman and a lover. It took the offer of her lips to let him know he was welcome to more.

  It was in the stable where she had first met him that they made love. In the back stall on a pile of fresh straw, they had become lovers. And she had returned to the stables many times after to meet him in secret.

  When Heloise first learned of her impending exodus to Castle Neige, she sought out her gypsy lover. But he seemed little surprised at her news. In fact, he had been preoccupied, nothing more. She had been perplexed by his strange reaction at the time.

  And then he showed up at Castle Neige just weeks after she had married the Duke de Neige. He had followed her when she had gone riding. After she expressed her outrage at finding her ex-lover had tracked her down with the knowledge that could ruin her marriage, she found herself in his arms once again. And the kiss they shared left her body craving his. Heloise let him take her there on the forest floor like a rutting animal.

  Now, a strong, calloused hand caressed her smooth back and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensuous strokes as she all but purred with contentment.

  “Are you thinking about him?” the deep voice asked.

  They lay deep in the shadows of the trees, hidden from prying eyes. Still, she looked away before he could see the lie in her eyes.

  “Nay, lover. I was just thinking of this time we have spent together and wishing it would never end.” Heloise refused to admit why she had become distracted. Thoughts of her new husband and his latest inattention burned deep. Did the man not understand how much she had given up to wed him? The duke treated her well enough, but sometimes his indifference hurt her. Lately, his sexual overtures left her cold. It was as if she did not exist unless he needed to slake his lust on her, and Heloise found it hard to take. She wanted a man who would take care of her no matter what. She wanted a man to love her.

  A deep rumble of laughter started deep within her lover’s chest before escaping in a form of a loud bark. He smacked her hard on her exposed buttocks causing her to squeak with indignation before pushing her off him. He stood and stretched his muscular arms high above his head, grasping the lowest tree branch above his head. The look in his eyes as he looked at her made her feel beautiful, wanton.

  Her hungry eyes poured over him as he flexed the thick muscles of his upper arms and massive chest.

  With a triumphant smile, Eugenii picked up his tunic. “You lie well, wench.”

  His mocking words stirred Heloise’s anger.

  “How dare you!” Flushed with fury, she leapt to her feet. Heloise grabbed the carelessly tossed pieces of her garments that lay about their love nest and with jerky movements, covered her nudity, pulling her bodice over her breasts, brushing off her skirts and
smoothing her hair. “You know nothing of my thoughts.” She seethed as she finished her grooming and turned to face him.

  “You are always thinking about him, Vixen. But it is my name, not his, you scream when I bring you pleasure.”

  Heloise flushed at his accusation, because it was true. She had built this fantasy in her mind and could not seem to let it go. It embarrassed her that she had given herself away. “That is because I lose myself in our passion,” she shot back. “And it is cruel of you to remind me of my husband when we are together. Perhaps it would be better if we do not meet again. The de Neige servants cannot be trusted to keep my secrets. I put myself in danger with every assignation.” It was a poor excuse for using him, but she could think of nothing else.

  “You are smarter than you look, wench.” He pondered her for a moment through narrowed eyes. Suddenly, an evil smile spread across his face. “I have a plan that will get you what you most desire in this world and it will also bring me what I most want.”

  “And what, pray tell, what do you think I want above all else?” Heloise asked.

  “The exclusive reign of Castle Neige.”

  A shriek escaped her throat as she lunged at him with her dagger drawn and aimed at his chest. Knocking the blade out of her hand, he caught her up in his arms and threw her back against the tree, pinning her there with his massive form. He buried his hands in her hair and held her fast as he kissed her hard and brutally until she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her lips. With his breath coming in loud pants, he ground the hard bulge of his cock into the soft flesh between her thighs. Her anger eased to hungry passion. When he finally broke the kiss, he smiled smugly.

  “You will listen to me and listen well, wench. You will do just as I tell you. Then, and only then, will we both get what we desire.” He waited as if for her acquiescence and she reluctantly nodded. When she did, he pulled a small vial of clear liquid from his tunic and held it in front of her face.

  “Give only a drop or two of this sleeping draught to your husband in his evening wine. He will become tired and retire to his chambers early. When he has left the hall you will go to the kitchen and distract whoever is in there.”

  “What of my husband? This will not kill him will it? I cannot harm him.”

  He lowered his lips and devoured Heloise’s mouth in a kiss that left her senseless once again. He placed the small vial into her hand, closing her lax fingers around it before squeezing her closed fist in warning. He then he lowered his hands and grasped the hem of her skirt. He slowly raised it to her waist running his hands up her legs and around to firmly grasp her buttocks.

  Heloise moaned and her eyes drifted shut as desire took over. Her arms encircled his thick neck as he lifted her against the tree and held her there. He wedged his thighs between hers, opening her wide for his invasion. But he did not enter her immediately. He teased her with his thick cock, rubbing it back and forth against her nether lips, drawing from her deep moans until he had rendered her nearly senseless.

  As he manipulated her with his throbbing cock, he pulled her breasts free from her bodice and she arched back so he could have full access to them. He suckled one nipple and then moved his hot mouth to the other. Heloise thought she would lose her mind if he did not fill her soon. She moaned louder and began to move against him frantically.

  “Please. Take me.” So engrossed in her body’s need, she forgot what she was saying. “Oh please, do not leave me wanting,” she begged.

  “Nay, my beauty, I will not leave you.” He raised his head and stared at her and smiled viciously. “You have the appetite of a starving whore, do you not, little vixen?” he taunted her. “But I love it. You will give me your beautiful body any time I want it. You will give me anything I want.” It was not a question, but a command.

  “Aye, Eugenii, anything. Please! I need you. Do not tease me any longer.” Heloise could not believe she was begging for this man’s favors. But her wanton body held her prisoner. It demanded fulfillment.

  “You will have what you need, my beauty.” He grunted his answer as if he was having difficulty holding back his own need. “I will see to it that you are free of the biggest obstacle to your dearest dream, and you will deliver the lovely Bianca to me.”

  “I want the little bitch gone.”

  “She never existed,” he growled. “Forget her.”

  “Oh god!” Heloise moaned in her passion as she arched her back, offering him more. Demanding more. He dropped his head to suckle first one nipple and then the other, pulling hard on them. A soft moan escaped her lips.

  “You will forget her. She is mine,” he repeated as his lips found their way back to hers for a bruising kiss and he guided the head of his swollen shaft into her hot, wet opening and, with a harsh groan, impaled her.

  “Yes…oh, yes,” she sobbed. Her need to feel him deep inside her brought from her a promise to agree to anything at that moment. With a growl of satisfaction, he pumped into her. Heloise threw her head back and screamed.

  * * * * *

  With fangs as sharp as a knight’s true blade,

  Claws so stalwart they could rip a cavalcade,

  The Beast pursues his illusive prey,

  Searching through the mist, the darkness, and the shade.

  Roaring his mistrust, his fear, and his torture,

  Keeping apart, trusting few. But that would not deter,

  The keeper of his heart, his soul and his love.

  The hunter was hunted by a Beauty that rivaled a dove.

  Chapter One

  “Once upon a time, many, many years ago, a handsome young prince set out to find his true love. He traveled far and wide, searching kingdom after kingdom for his fair lady but alas, he searched in vain. It was only by chance that he heard of a beautiful princess being held captive in a tall tower, guarded by a wicked witch who would cast a spell on anyone who dared try to rescue the princess. It was a terrible spell, which turned any prospective suitor into a horrible ogre, green and covered with…”

  The delicate hand holding the quill paused for a moment as Bianca read over her words. Dawn was only moments away and she wanted to finish the tale before the waking castle distracted her. She found the predawn quite soothing and she did her best writing at that time of the day. She glanced out her tower window at the lightening horizon as she tapped her fingernail against her front teeth, a habit for which she had been scolded many times by her new stepmother. But it helped her concentrate and, most times, she was unconscious of the action.

  “What would a huge, ugly ogre be covered with?”

  Bianca’s attention was suddenly drawn to the distant hills as a light flickered into view. First one light and then another and another appeared and the multitude soon grew into a long line of twinkling lights that began to snake their way slowly through the trees and down the hill into the valley below. Bianca rose to her feet, moved to her window and watched with fascination. The glistening points of light brought to mind a scene straight out of one of her fairy tales.

  She stood entranced as the sun rose over the hills, chasing the predawn shadows across the valley floor until the sunbeams hit the front of the long line. It was then she recognized that what she saw as an army of warriors, the sunlight flashing off their armor as they moved forever forward.

  “Oh no! Not again.” The soft denial leapt from soft red lips, which pursed in disgust as she stood watching the army of men invade her valley, her privacy, her life.

  “Will it never cease?”

  * * * * *

  “When I fall in love—” A derisive snort interrupted his declaration in mid-sentence and Charles turned to raise one elegant eyebrow questioningly at his companion for the rude interruption of his thoughts. “You have an opinion on the matter?”

  “I do not believe in love.”

  “How could you not believe in love?”

  A slight shrugging movement of massive shoulders rippled the heavy muscle and hinted at the strength and power
that lay beneath the heavy chain mesh and armor. “It is a simple matter, cousin. I do not believe in myths.”

  The cavalcade of armed warriors moved through the quiet countryside of the province of Toulouse on an assignment more important than any they had ever undertaken. At the head of the long procession rode two great warlords, battle-hardened knights. These two had earned their reputations as two of the mightiest warriors in all of France. They had fought in battles across the length and breadth of the land in the service of their king for the last decade. Their numerous, hard-won victories had gained them high praise from their grateful sovereign. He, in turn, rewarded them with the noble titles of barons and extravagant gifts of land. These honors and rewards lifted them in status from poor landless knights to wealthy noblemen.

  After so many years of warfare, facing blood and near death at every turn, and with this remuneration firmly in their possession, it made sense that their next quest would be to see to their own prosperity. It was with this purpose in mind that they marched south. At least one of the baron-knights looked to wed. And it was on this issue that the two disagreed most heartily.

  As much as they differed in their notions about women and marriage, they also differed greatly in their appearances, one knight as light as day, the other as dark as night.

  Sir Charles Servais, now the Baron de Charmont, sat tall upon his magnificent white steed, dressed in gleaming mail and polished armor over which he wore a glorious white silk jupon trimmed in brilliant crimson. Riding behind him, his squire carried his two-toned standard, which furled in the gentle breeze, divided down the middle, one half crimson and one half pure white, decorated with a golden eagle, its massive wings spread high and bold.

  Sir Charles had a handsome face that drew women, young and old. He had inherited his good semblance from his lord father, along with his dazzling blue eyes and a smile so warm and charming, it melted the hearts of many a young maiden.