Kiss of the Dragon

by Christina James

  The late summer night was bright under the glow of the full silver moon that hung high in the heavens. The ground below was deserted as he scanned the area for intruders. It was still too early for the servants to be up and about their morning chores. In the distance, on the outer bailey wall, he could make out the dark forms of the night guards as they moved slowly along the top of the battlements.

  Whatever roused him from his sleep had not disturbed the castle defenses. Draco turned his head to glance into the darkness behind him. It suddenly occurred to him that the threat, if there was one, came from within the castle itself. The memory of young Theron’s torn, bloody body filled his mind. The fiend that had committed the atrocity had yet to be apprehended and could even now be somewhere within the confines of the walls of the estate.

  A slight scraping sound drew his attention to his left and above his head. He turned his head and was able to make out the silhouette of a heavy rope beside him swinging madly, slapping the stone wall. As his eyes followed the length of the rope up, he found the intruder. He was climbing up the rope past Bianca’s new chambers to the window of her old chambers above. The initial disturbance, which had awakened him, must have been the sound of the iron hook hitting the window ledge above, skittering across the stone until it found its anchor.

  Draco studied the stealthy movements of the intruder and almost snarled aloud his contempt. As he stood watching the dishonorable rogue make an attempt to gain access to Bianca’s chambers in the middle of the night, his blood boiled, pounding furiously through his veins. His fingers clenched tightly on the edge of the windowsill as he bit back a vulgar curse. There could be only one conclusion to this. The chance to relieve some of his frustrations had come calling. He would have the opportunity to take out some of his furor on a deserving target.

  Turning from the window, Draco made his way across to where his clothes lay on the floor. Bianca sighed as she moved restlessly in her sleep. He paused only a moment to make sure that she did not wake up. When no further sounds came from that direction, he slipped into his clothes and pulled on his boots. He would not take any longer than necessary. Bianca would never know that he was gone. He moved quietly to the side of the bed and bent to place a kiss of promise on her forehead.

  “I shall return, my sweet.”

  * * * * *

  The room was mostly in shadows, the hearth cold, but Evgenii Sokolov did not let that deter him as he silently eased his large body through the window. Carefully, he lowered one foot and then the other to the floor, standing still before the opened window, letting his eyes become accustomed to the darkness. After a moment or two, he moved forward, feeling his way with careful steps and outstretched hands as he crept across the darkened room in the direction of the bed.

  The key to his future lay on that bed, sleeping peacefully, never suspecting that her life was about to change for all time, her fortune his to control. And that luscious little body! Even at the thought of this night’s seduction, a cruel smile flickered across his face and his already rising manhood clenched in anticipation. He was about to make Bianca de Neige the happiest woman in the kingdom; what more could a woman desire?

  After a night in his arms, she would be spoiled for any other man. After all, did Evgenii not have a reputation of pleasuring a woman until she moaned with passion as she writhed in his arms?

  Evgenii smiled at the lustful thought and his anticipation mounted. Not only would he have the most beautiful woman in the kingdom in his power, he would finally attain the high position in society that had been denied him for so many years. He would finally receive his rightful portion, and after tonight, no one could deny it.

  As Evgenii touched the edge of the bed, he could just make out the small lump beneath the bedclothes. He leaned over and patted the soft form.

  “Come to me, my little babushka. Let me show you what it is like to be with a real man.” He reached for the upper edge of the bedcovers and slowly pulled them back. But what he found beneath the covers was not the warm, curvaceous woman he had anticipated but a stack of pillows that had been molded into a woman’s form.

  “‘Tis not what you expected, Prince?”

  The deadly soft voice came from the shadows behind him. Before Evgenii could react, a spark flared and a lit taper was thrust in his face as he whirled around. He took a defensive step back, his hand whipped up to shade his eyes, and the other went to the dagger sheathed at his waist. When his offended eyes adjusted to the glare he found himself facing the one man he would rather have avoided.

  The King’s champion—the great Black Dragon of Normandy.

  The face of the huge knight behind the small, lit taper was twisted into a cold mask of fury. Icy black eyes pierced Evgenii and to his dismay, he found the fingers that rested on the hilt of his dagger trembling as he fought the urge to take a step back. But even as fear threatened to turn him into a sweating, quivering coward, his crafty mind worked furiously to come up with a plausible explanation for being in the bedchamber of the duke’s daughter.

  “I…I…beg your pardon, what are you doing here? Where is the Lady Bianca?” Try as he may, Evgenii could not keep the stutter of fear from his voice. He swallowed quickly before continuing. “I fear that your presence here will be most unwelcome as the lady and I have a previously arranged appointment.”

  As his words poured from his mouth, his courage grew until he was actually motioning with his hand for Draco to leave. “This does not concern you, my lord. If you leave now I will not feel obliged to inform the duke that his daughter has been entertaining suitors in her chambers.” Even as the last of his little spiel left his mouth, Evgenii realized that he had just insulted the Lady Bianca to a man who was most likely her lover and possibly the greatest warrior and swordsman in France.

  A deep chuckle that was far from amicable rose as a deep rumble in the throat of the huge baron-knight to echo around the stone walls of the darkened room.

  “Do not think that you can distract me with your absurdities. You have made a serious mistake, Prince.” The ludicrous title fell from his tongue like a vile curse. “This does concern me. Neither you nor I will be leaving this room until I am satisfied that the lady in question will not have to live with the fear of you sneaking up the castle wall and attempting to compromise her good name. I am here to make sure that such a thing does not happen again. Do you understand what I mean?” His last words were bellowed.

  The threat was more than understood and Evgenii barely controlled his urge to turn tail and run in the face of this huge man’s fury. He could do nothing but glare at the bastard who had become an unexpected obstacle in his scheme to obtain the rich prize he had gone to such great lengths to secure.

  Evgenii kicked himself mentally for not following through with his original plans. It would have been so much simpler to kidnap the rich little bitch when she persisted on taking her unescorted morning rides. Instead, he now found himself in a very precarious position because he had let himself be swayed by the crazed ramblings of the jealous Heloise de Neige. His only chance to win this contest was to make a strategic retreat and make a play for Bianca de Neige at a later date. Evgenii was certainly no fool. If he did not withdraw swiftly and deftly, he would find himself facing this mighty warrior on the practice field and he had no plans to die any time soon. And that would surely be the outcome of a duel between him and the Black Dragon of Normandy.

  “Please, m’lord, I meant no insult. This is a great misunderstanding. I was told that the Beauty de Neige wished for me to come to her. It is obvious that I was misinformed. A dreadful ruse has been played on us both. I am grateful that this charade turned out as it has and no one has come to harm.” Evgenii stressed the last bit of his entreaty hoping to penetrate the raw fury that emanated off the man who stared him down as if he were no better than a kitchen rodent. He resented Draco for that, but was smart enough to keep his emotions skillfully hidden behind his mask of embarrassment.

  “Do you take me f
or a fool? Your very presence here tells me what kind of a man you are. Unscrupulous, amoral, dishonorable. You came here with every intention of destroying the good name of the Lady Bianca. You intended to put her in the unenviable position being disgraced if she did not agree to marriage with you.” Draco shook his head slowly form side to side, his eyes never leaving the intruder’s face. “For this sin against the fair Bianca, you will deal with the consequences. Me.” Even as he stepped forward, Evgenii threw up his hands to ward him off.

  “Baron, please. Accept my sincere apology. This has all been an unfortunate mistake. What else can you expect of me? What can I do to make this up to the good lady and you?”

  “You can climb.”

  “What?”

  Draco indicated the opened window. “You can leave by the same route you arrived.”

  “Are you mad? I damn near killed myself climbing up that wall. You cannot really expect me to go back down that way. I would break my neck attempting such a feat.” Evgenii glanced at the only other exit and wondered if he could make it to the door without getting a dagger in his back.

  “Perhaps. But then, that would save me the trouble later.” Draco almost smiled when he saw the Russian’s throat convulse as he swallowed hard.

  “I…but…you are a demon.”

  “No, Prince, it is you who are the demon.” Draco took one step closer to the man, meaning to intimidate him. The Russian was a well-built man, handsome even, not as tall as Draco was, nor as broad, but he was not a puny man either. He was a man any woman would have found attractive, thought Draco. Any woman but his Bianca. Awareness of what could have happened this night if circumstances had been different, caused his wrath to rise to a new and hotter magnitude.

  “Proposing to climb into an innocent noblewoman’s bed in the middle of the night to rape her so that you can claim her as your betrothed and gain her fortune, makes you the demon.” Even as the words were out of his mouth, Draco raised the tip of his sword to the Russian’s throat, prodding him to move backward. “I think that it would be prudent for you to begin the climb down, now, before I run you through and then pick you up and toss you out the window.” Step by menacing step, the giant warrior forced the intruder to the window. Evgenii backed away from the menacing sword pricking at his neck until he stood before the window opening.

  “You will regret this, Baron d’Ensoleille. I will see to it.”

  With the growled threat and a look of pure hatred, Evgenii climbed out the window and disappeared into the darkness below. When he was nearly to the ground the rope above him jerked once then twice and suddenly he found himself free-falling the last few yards to the hard ground below.

  Only a muffled cry of terror was heard before he hit the ground with a thud and then a curse.

  “Damn you, Draco. Damn you to hell!”

  Draco snorted in disgust as he closed the shutters and made his way to the chamber door. He walked down the corridor, his mind on the woman he had left warming the bed he meant to return to.

  * * * * *

  “My God! What happened to you?”

  Heloise opened her door to find Evgenii leaning heavily against the doorjamb, scratched and bruised, his garments ripped and soiled. He looked like he had been trampled under the hooves of a herd of pigs.

  The angry man pushed his way through the door, storming his way past her, giving a rude snort at her stupid question. “Do not, Heloise. I have had all I can take this night.”

  “Do not be imprudent, Evgenii. I want to know what happened. Did you take the little innocent as we planned? I find it hard to believe that she did this to you. Who would have thought the vain little bitch had it in her.” Heloise chuckled at the furious look Evgenii shot her direction.

  “Get me a drink, old woman. I am not in the mood for your inquisition right now.” The snarled warning had Heloise backing away from the furious man. Something had happened, and by the looks of it, Evgenii had taken quite a beating. Perhaps it would be sagacious to mellow him out with a little wine.

  Heloise moved to the liquor cupboard and poured a cup of red wine and handed it to him. He tipped the cup up and gulped down the entire contents without stopping to draw a breath. “More.” He breathed harshly as he handed the cup back to her and she refilled it. “Leave the bottle.” He meant to enjoy every swallow of the duchess’s fine wine. This time he merely sipped at it.

  Heloise moved to settle in a comfortable chair near her hearth to wait for Evgenii to divulge what had happened to him this night. It was clear that he meant to take his time before doing so.

  Evgenii sat drinking his wine staring at nothing as his mind burned with thoughts of vengeance. As the alcohol warmed his shocked, battered body, giving him a temporary renewal of spirit, he fantasized about how he would make the great Dragon suffer for his insult.

  Aching and sore in places he did not even want to think about from the long, torturous climb up the tower wall, then the unexpected descent and fall at the end, he worked to drown the misery and shame he now suffered. He glanced at the older woman who sat impatiently waiting for him to become drunk enough to bend him to her will. She had done it many times before, but not this time. Heloise, Duchess de Neige, had been holding the reins of this scheme thus far, but things were about to change.

  Evgenii Sokolov had aspirations of his own and Heloise would not be included in them. He was finished being a noblewoman’s chore boy. He had heard what had happened to the outlaw she had hired to kidnap and kill her stepdaughter. The man’s failure cost him his life when she plied him with poisoned wine. It was then that Heloise had sought out Evgenii, promising to make him a rich man, one who would be accepted by the aristocracy.

  But Evgenii refused to sacrifice his life to follow the mad ravings of this jealous witch. He wanted no more of her high-reaching schemes only to receive little for his efforts. This newest plot of hers to get rid of her stepdaughter would have a twist to it that would undoubtedly enrage Heloise when she discovered his ambition.

  Evgenii had no qualms about taking the opportunity this noblewoman placed before him and using it to his own benefit. After what he had experienced this night, Evgenii rationalized that he deserved a rich reward. He had been truly afraid for his life when he found a sword at his throat. And then to be forced to climb back down the blasted wall only to have the rope loosened from above leaving him to drop the remaining distance to the ground. The rose briars that climbed the outer wall had nearly shredded his clothing by the time he pulled himself from its midst.

  After cursing the great Norman devil for his nasty trick, Evgenii had scrambled to his feet expecting to find that he would still have to fight for his life. It almost disappointed him when Baron d’Ensoleille had not met him in the garden to challenge him. But then he had come to his senses and he had gathered himself and limped away. But it had not taken long for his anger to return and it had grown into something tangible by the time he gained Heloise’s rooms. It galled Evgenii to think that Lord Draco had gone back to bed laughing no doubt about the fright he had put into a grown man.

  “He will not be laughing for long,” he muttered into his wine cup. One way or another, Evgenii Sokolov would get even with the overconfident bastard, he vowed it.

  “Are you ready to tell me what happened tonight, Evgenii? Or must I remind you that my future happiness depends on the outcome?”

  Evgenii replied without bothering to lift his head from where it had sunk onto his chest. “Shut up, Heloise. If you nag your husband half as much, it is no wonder your marriage is a bit shaky. It is a certainty that getting rid of the young lady is not going to help your plight.”

  Evgenii became drunker with each sip he took. He forgot to whom he spoke, but the sting of her hand connecting with his cheek sobered him instantly. The blow was a reminder of just how much he hated women of her ilk. If it were not for Bianca de Neige and everything that came with her, he would have never been sucked into another of Heloise’s schemes. How could he forge
t even for a moment how vicious the older woman could be when she wanted something badly?

  “How dare you, you ungrateful wretch. Remember to whom you speak! I am a duchess, you gypsy worm. Remember that it was I who found you. It was I who cleaned you up and dressed you so that you could parade about as a Russian prince, to be treated as such. And this is how you repay me, with your boorish contempt? I should have known what associating with your kind would bring me. The Rom have never brought me anything but trouble.”

  “At least my people work hard for what we have. You on the other hand have always been given everything you desired since you were a babe. You are pathetic old woman who thinks that the world will end if you have to compete with a beautiful young woman.”

  “We made a bargain, gypsy, and I expect you to keep your part of the agreement.”

  “Your plans for tonight nearly got me killed.”

  “What happened?” she asked him for the third time.

  “The Baron d’Ensoleille was in the lady’s chambers and she was not. It was as if he guessed our plans. As if he knew I was going to be there.” Even as Evgenii thought back to the close disaster that nearly cost him his life, his hand gripped his cup, denting the sides. “I do not like surprises, Your Grace.” His mockery was evident in the way he addressed her. But she chose to ignore it.

  “A minor oversight.” She flipped her bejeweled hand in the air as if his life meant less than nothing. In her opinion, it would not be hard to find another greedy Rom. After all, the lot of them were very much alike.

  “I will come up with a new scheme. Something more permanent, I think.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Even as Evgenii asked the question, he raised his hands to his temples and began to massage them. The heavy wine he had been imbibing was giving him a headache. He closed his eyes and rubbed his head while Heloise paced the room. After several passes across the floor, her cry of triumph nearly shot him out of his chair it startled him so much.