Dating a Dragon

by Abbey MacMunn

  “No.”

  He came back to earth with a thump.

  With one cheeky smirk, Katarina eased his concerns and lightened the atmosphere that crackled between them. He’d sensed the magic the second she walked into the pub, smelt the sweet scent too. Could it be too much to hope there were greater forces at work?

  “It’s my turn to buy the drinks,” she said.

  She got up and headed for the bar, leaving him bemused and aroused at the same time.

  A few minutes later, she came back with two tall glasses of bright, two-toned orange drinks, complete with cherries on a cocktail stick and those stupid paper umbrellas perched on the top.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Tequila sunrise? Girls’ drinks, if you ask me.”

  Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Mock all you like, but have you ever tried one?” she said, repeating his earlier words.

  “No, I can’t say I have.” He winked. “But I’ll try anything once.”

  Her beautiful face lit up with a smile. “A good night always goes well when there’s tequila, I say. And I intend to have a good night.”

  This was the Katarina he knew and loved.

  “No promises, and no more questions,” she continued. “Let’s just enjoy tonight and see where it goes, okay?”

  “Sounds perfect to me.” He grinned. “Although you do know mixing drinks can lead to trouble?”

  She raised her eyebrow seductively. “My plan exactly. What’s a good night without a bit of trouble?”

  Phoenix laughed. His Katarina. His fun-loving dragon girl. The only woman who made the fire rage in his belly, a fire only her ice could control.

  He hooked out the paper umbrella and tried his tequila sunrise.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “All I can taste is orange juice at the moment.”

  “Wait until you get to the tequila.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to wait.” He gulped the drink down to the last drop and grinned. “Not bad,” he admitted. “But I still prefer whiskey. Another one?”

  She drained hers too, then fluttered her eyelashes. “Why, Nicholas, are you trying to get a defenceless maiden drunk?”

  “I somehow don’t think you’re the defenceless type.” He knew she wasn’t.

  Nix scraped his chair back, intending to go to the bar, but with the pub so crowded, he accidentally knocked someone standing behind him. The man’s pint of lager sloshed over his glass and down the front of his trousers.

  The man spun to face him, swaying. “Watch it, you dickhead!” His speech was slurred, and spittle flew from his mouth.

  Nix glared. He never let anyone speak to him like that, least of all in his own pub.

  “What the fuck are you staring at?” the man demanded. His breath stunk of lager.

  “Someone who can’t handle his drink.” He bit down on his molars. Flames flickered at the back of his throat. He could incinerate the loser in seconds if he wanted to.

  Katarina stood, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “Leave it, Nick. He’s not worth it.”

  He backed down. She was right. He couldn’t risk doing anything stupid, and especially not in front of Katarina.

  The guy lurched towards him. “Try saying that again. Outside, pretty boy. Who do you think you are, strutting around like you own the bloody place—”

  Crack!

  Katarina dealt the guy a blow to his jaw.

  The guy hollered, holding his face.

  “Talk to my friend like that again, I won’t be so gentle next time,” she yelled.

  Actually, he did own the pub, but there seemed no point in parting with that fact.

  A couple of people cheered.

  “Good on you, love,” someone encouraged.

  She looked the loser up and down, disdain gleaming in her eyes. “And clean yourself up; you stink of piss.”

  Nix smirked. He could fight his own battles, of course, but he kind of liked that she’d defended him so venomously. His cock twitched. Was it wrong to be a tiny bit aroused right now? “Come on.” He hooked his arm into hers. “Let’s go. I’ll buy you a drink somewhere else.”

  She glared at him, but he caught a ghost of a smile on her lips.

  Nix led her through the crowd and out into the fresh air.

  “We didn’t have to leave because of him,” she said, wincing as she looked at her hand and balled her fist. “It hurt like hell, but it was so worth it to wipe that smirk off his greasy face.”

  Her knuckles were red and swollen. The urge to bring her hand to his lips and kiss her pain away almost overwhelmed him. “Thanks for defending me, but isn’t it supposed to be the fellow who comes to the rescue?”

  “In medieval times, yeah.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but the guy wound me up. I work in a bar, and we get losers like him coming in all the time. There’s no reasoning with them. They only understand one thing.”

  “Hey, don’t be sorry.” He winked. “I kind of liked it.”

  “You did? Most men are intimidated by strong women.”

  “Maybe you haven’t met the right man yet.” He lowered his voice. “Or maybe you have.”

  Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

  Nix shuffled from one foot to the other. “I know this might be a bit forward, and you can say no if you want to, but—”

  “But what?”

  “My cottage is not far from here. The least I can do is offer to fix your hand. I’m sure I have a first aid kit somewhere.”

  Katarina regarded him, her eyes glinting with the mischief he knew so well. “My hand is fine, thank you. I heal quickly, for some reason.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy for him—but did he expect anything less? “I have booze, the good stuff.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “So I was right. You are trying to get me drunk.”

  “Oh, I think you can handle your drink.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  No point in denying it. He grinned. “Yes.”

  “You’re on,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “Lead the way, but I’ll have you know I don’t usually do this sort of thing. It’s only because I have this weird feeling about you.”

  “Weird good, or weird bad?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  He grinned and led her along a lane to the side of the pub. At the end of the country road, they came to a stile, and he climbed over.

  She stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “You have to be kidding; in these heels?”

  “Take them off then.” Nix held out his hand. “I’ll help you over.”

  Katarina craned her neck and looked behind him to the field. “When you said you lived nearby, I didn’t expect a cross-country hike.” She refused his help and climbed over the stile, with her shoes still on. “Where is it?”

  He pointed to the trees on the other side of the field. “Just through the woods over there. And mind out for cowpats,” he said, purposely not waiting for her as he crossed the field.

  She followed as he knew she would.

  “I’m definitely not taking off my shoes now. You better make this worth my while.”

  “It will be.” He turned and waggled his eyebrows.

  “Whoa, back off there. Just a drink. No promises, remember?”

  “I remember, and I wasn’t suggesting anything.” Liar. “It’s you who jumped to conclusions, assuming I’m taking you back to my cottage to have my wicked way with you.”

  To his utmost amusement, her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. Wow, he hadn’t seen that in a long while. The fire lit in his belly.

  “I did nothing of the sort.” Her husky voice suggested the opposite. “If I break my ankle, or I get even a smudge of cow shit on these shoes, you’re going to owe me more than a drink.”

  They reached the woods and followed a dirt track that weaved through a haze of bluebells, their strong, sweet scent hanging in the air. The warm evening sun shone low in the sky, casting its rays thro
ugh the trees, their shadowed trunks elongated, making stripes of light and dark across the carpet of blue.

  After a while, she stopped.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  She appraised the scenery. “This is a beautiful spot.”

  “It is. I’ve been to many beautiful places, but nothing beats the English countryside in the spring.”

  “You’ve travelled?”

  “Yes.” He’d travelled the world looking for her.

  She sighed. “I’d love to travel, but I’ve never had the opportunity.” She paused, a frown crinkling her blonde eyebrows. “The scent of the bluebells… I think I’ve been here before.”

  His breath caught in his throat. Could she be remembering their life together? They’d loved to walk in these very woods centuries ago. He didn’t dare to hope. It took everything he had not to tell her everything right then, but the damn curse niggled away inside his head. “You have, the other day when Toby got lost. Except you came in from the other direction.”

  Nix stooped to pick a sprig of bluebells. He straightened, then stepped towards her and tucked the flower behind her ear, something he’d done many times in the past, the striking contrast of blue against her platinum-blonde hair taking his breath away.

  Her gaze met his, and she froze. “No, it’s more than that. I… I have the weirdest sense of déjà vu. You’ve put flowers in my hair before, haven’t you?”

  Nix swallowed. Her scent surrounded him, subtle, like snowdrops, fresh and cool.

  Her full lips parted.

  “Katarina…” There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Maybe he could evoke her memories with his actions instead. Hooking his finger under her chin, he inched closer. She didn’t resist. Her pupils enlarged.

  Magic swirled in the air, its scent sweeter than the bluebells.

  Slowly, tentatively, he kissed her.

  Cool lips responded to his. He remembered her kiss so well, the thrilling jolt she evoked every time.

  His fire craved her ice.

  He slipped his arm around her slim waist, brought her towards him. The centuries ebbed away as he deepened the kiss, her eager response making his heart overflow with joy.

  He’d spent those centuries searching the globe for her, and somehow, Katarina had managed to stumble into what was basically his back yard.

  Maybe the Fates had played a part in bringing them together. Was it possible the passing of time had somehow weakened the sorceress’s curse?

  Chapter Seven

  Kat pulled away from his kiss. Her pulse rate rocketed. She touched her lips with her fingertips, her hand trembling.

  His touch… The taste of him, his scent, his hot lips … Oh dear God, his kiss.

  His incredible kiss had left her a quivering wreck. No man had even come close to doing that to her. It was almost as if he had her under some kind of spell. Maybe he had.

  There was definitely magic in the air; its sugary scent made her lightheaded. Or maybe it was him and the way he was gazing at her.

  Intense, desirous, and oh so dangerous.

  A danger she yearned to embrace, to succumb to the way her body was reacting to his, but something still held her back.

  Did she know him? Surely if his kiss evoked such a reaction, she would have remembered it.

  “Nicholas… I…”

  He drew air in through his teeth and took a step back, disappointment clouding his handsome features.

  Had he not enjoyed their kiss? She certainly had; her damp panties proved it.

  “My name is not Nicholas.” He turned away, scrubbing at his neck.

  “What is it then?” I knew he didn’t look like a Nicholas.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  She frowned. More secrets, and yet, instead of angering her, his lie intrigued her more. “Why would you lie about your name? Did I do something wrong?” Kat had no idea why she said that, but he gave her the distinct impression she was missing something.

  Nick faced her again. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”

  “That kiss didn’t feel wrong to me.”

  “Tell me, what did my kiss feel like to you?” She didn’t care for the note of sarcasm in his tone. He was confrontational too as if he sought to goad her into an argument.

  Confused didn’t come close. Her gut feeling was telling her she knew him, and who knows, maybe she had known him intimately in the past. She had half a mind to snap back some snarky, flippant reply, but whoever he was, demon, Greek god, whatever, this gorgeous guy and the connection she felt towards him was the closest she’d come to a clue about her identity.

  She quelled her desire to fight back. If she had any chance of finding out more, the last thing she needed to do was antagonise him further. Although why he seemed annoyed was beyond her.

  His kiss was like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, a tiny part of a picture depicting something wonderful, yet terrifying too, but now she’d started the puzzle, she had to know what the completed picture would be.

  Quelling her fears, Kat met his gaze. “That kiss felt magical to me,” she answered truthfully.

  He stared back in silence.

  Birds chirped in the branches above her head.

  Slowly, the anger drained from his face and the corner of his mouth curved upwards.

  Her belly tingled. No dimple yet, but she could work on that. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with that drink about now.”

  His half-smile widened to a full-on grin. “Me too. You’re infuriating, you know that?”

  The dimple appeared, adding another piece to the jigsaw puzzle. “I could say the same about you.”

  As the last of the sunlight peeked through the leaves, Kat followed him through the woods and towards a picturesque cottage nestled between mature oak trees.

  For some strange reason, the sight of the thatched cottage produced a warm, fuzzy feeling in her belly. Odd. She didn’t even like old-fashioned cottages in the middle of nowhere. She preferred her modern apartment and living in the heart of town—well, it was Selene’s apartment, but she was happy there, wasn’t she?

  Nick, or whatever his name was, opened the door, flicked on a light and gestured her inside.

  She hovered on the doorstep.

  “If you’ve changed your mind, I can walk you back to the pub… or I could call a taxi for you?”

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m getting a weird sense of déjà vu again. I don’t know, call me crazy, but this place feels like…” Her whole body trembled. Home. “It feels like I’ve been here before.”

  Nick regarded her for several seconds. “If you’re crazy, then I am too. You said you wanted to know the truth, and what I’m about to do could ruin everything, but if I don’t take a chance, I’ll never know.” His tone was deadly serious, but the undercurrent of hope was unmistakable. “Are you willing to take that chance with me?”

  She had no idea what he was talking about, but she couldn’t ignore the mixture of fear and anticipation fizzing inside her belly.

  He held his hand out to her. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  Without a word, she hung her handbag next to a few coats by the door and took his hand.

  He led her into a tiny lounge decorated with a squishy, well-worn sofa and dark wood furniture. A bookcase crammed to capacity adorned one wall, and an open fire nestled in a stone fireplace. A faint smoky aroma filled the air, its oaky scent strangely familiar too.

  Nick stopped in front of a picture hanging on the wall.

  Kat’s jaw dropped.

  Her own face stared back at her, as did Nick’s, but the picture was not one she remembered posing for. It was faded and old, sepia-colored and, judging by her flapper dress and bobbed hairstyle, Kat guessed it was taken around the 1920s.

  “It’s not possible…” And yet it could be. She knew she’d lived many past lives, glimpsed no more than snippets in her patchy flashbacks, but she’d never seen any actual evidence of th
em.

  “It is.” Nick squeezed her hand.

  “We know each other,” she stated, as though saying it out loud would do more to convince her. It didn’t. Or maybe it did. “You’re like me.” Kat swallowed. She could hardly believe her own words. She’d finally met another supernatural being who had to live with the burden of reincarnation, of never remembering their past lives or who they were.

  “Yes, you and I are similar.”

  Her knees buckled. Her vision blurred. The pretty cottage swirled around her.

  Powerful arms caught her. Nick held her close as her vision cleared, and all she saw was him, gazing at her, his eyes brimming with a happiness that warmed her soul.

  Confused emotions charged through her system; fear, curiosity, elation. The truth was so close she could taste it, and yet… did she want to know the woman she was back when the photo was taken? A hundred questions buzzed inside her head, chaotic theories that made no sense.

  Nick fixed her with an intense gaze. “Are you all right? I know this must be difficult for you.”

  Her heart beat frantically. This was all too much… she only met him a few hours ago, and now he was showing her a picture of them in the 1920s. This was crazy, insane even, and yet with his protective arms around her, he instilled her with a sense of calm. “A bit freaked out, but yes, I think I am okay.”

  “I’ve waited so long for you, Katarina.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I probably shouldn’t do this,” his gaze sought her lips, “but if I don’t, I’ll go mad. If I’m damned to Hell, then it will be worth it.”

  He kissed her with an urgency and passion that negated all other thoughts.

  Her whole body responded to him with a thrilling rush. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so much of her past lives still a mystery, but she wanted this more than anything.

  She wanted him.

  Kat returned his kiss, matching his fervour with her own. She looped her arms around his waist and crushed her body to his.

  “I couldn’t tell you,” he gasped between kisses. “You had to find out yourself.”

  What he said made no sense, but she didn’t care, her thoughts consumed by the throbbing between her thighs. She tugged at his shirt, yanking it from his jeans.