Kiss of the Dragon (8 page)

Suppressing a low groan, as a wave of pure lust hit him;
Draco cursed himself for his lunacy of letting this beauty into his chamber, to
help him bathe, to play chambermaid to his lord of the castle. What had he been
thinking? Perhaps that was his problem; he had not been thinking at all. He
could have conceived a different, less dangerous means to teach the little
wench a well-deserved lesson. Now he found himself playing with fire and if he
were not careful, he would end up burnt to a cinder.

The feel of her small, soft hands moving over his body
aroused him to a painful proportion. He shifted to ease his heaviness, his
hands fisting so tightly, his knuckles were white from the strain. It was
evident that he would be riding out to the river Garonne to cool his lust and
relieve his discomfort when she was gone.

“I think that spot is cleansed.” He spoke more harshly than
he meant when her hand moving across his neck became unbearable torture to his
heightened senses.

Without being bidden, Bianca moved around to the side of the
tub. She leaned over his arm to swirl the wet, soapy cloth over the sculpted
muscles of his massive chest, her hand moving down over his rippling stomach
and dangerously lower. Draco had to restrain himself from shooting to his feet
at her touch and startling her with the sight of his throbbing erection. Years
of self-restraint helped him to act nonchalant as her hands wreaked a magic of
their own across his sensitive nipples buried in the mat of dark hair of his
chest. He did not know if he could take much more before he would either order
her to cease, or he would end up pulling her into the tub to make love to her.
It would be a close thing, indeed. His body screamed for release but he knew he
could never give in to his lust. He had been a fool to lure the Lady Bianca to
his chamber and put himself through such torture.

When the cloth slipped from her hands, Bianca tried to catch
it, but lost it in the soapy water. She stared down into the depths and
hesitated only a moment, as if unsure of what to do. Leaning farther over the
edge of the tub to retrieve the cloth, her cheek was a mere breath away from
Draco’s lips. A low moan escaped his mouth just before his hand clamped over
her wrist, startling her.

“Do not!” His harsh whisper effectively stopped her
movements.

Bianca raised her eyes to become lost in his intense dark
gaze, which held an expression of scorching desire. Breathlessly, she studied
his face and helplessly watched as his perusal dropped to her breasts. Her
nipples pearled under his gaze, straining against the thin, transparent fabric
of her water-soaked gown, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her breathing
became labored, her breasts tightened and felt heavy and her stomach began to
do odd things. She could not begin to describe the effects his nearness was
having on her senses because she had never experienced the like.

Her gaze flew to his mouth and she found herself wondering
what it would be like to be kissed by those full, sensuous lips. What would he
do if she turned her head and pressed her lips against his? Would he think her
too forward? Wanton? Would he realize she was trying to seduce him here in his
chambers? For that was what she was doing, was she not? Dear God in Heaven!
Where had that thought come from? Shocked at her sinful thoughts, Bianca froze.

The washcloth was completely forgotten. All her senses
became engaged in the slow seduction of her suddenly sensitive body as the heat
of his breath caressed her cheek. She shivered delicately. His scent
intoxicated her. Her senses were assaulted from all sides as she breathed in
the smell of him, felt the warmth of his skin and listened to his breath whoosh
in and out as his breathing accelerated. She was so distracted that she forgot
about her precarious position as she leaned over this naked giant. Mostly she
did not take into consideration that she was completely at his mercy. She was
where she wanted to be.

Kiss me!

His lips were but a whisper away. His eyes hot with desire
and Bianca knew instinctively what was to come. Her senses began to whirl with
thoughts of her first kiss, and the man who was about to gift her with it. She
watched, mesmerized, as his hand moved up her arm to her shoulder to her head
where he proceeded to push off the old kerchief. He loosened her silky black
tresses from the thick plait, which held it captive and spread her hair down
over her shoulders, running his fingers through the silky softness. Finally, he
fisted his hand in the soft hair at the nape of her neck and held her captive
as his eyes moved over her face and hair.

Kiss me!

Had she said the words aloud? But the answer did not matter
as he turned her head and pulled her toward him until their lips were but a
breath apart. Slowly, tentatively, he moved his lips across hers. At the tender
touch, a jolt of warm pleasure coursed through her body and she found herself
leaning into his shoulder wanting more as he deepened the kiss. Then she found
herself wrapped in his arms, plastered against his broad, damp chest as his
demanding mouth slanted over hers again and again, pressing, fitting, measuring
her response.

“Open for me, Bianca,” he whispered hoarsely against her
soft lips. “Open your sweet mouth and let me taste the honey.” And when she did
as he instructed, he thrust his tongue past her lips, sweeping into the hot
cavity of her mouth, tasting her. She stiffened with surprise at his move but
he held her close and, as he kissed and sucked and nipped her tongue and lips
in sweet love play, she relaxed and soon she returned his kisses in kind, with
enthusiasm. And then she found herself in the warm bath water, pressed against
the length of his hard body, her thin gown soaked through, clinging to her like
a second skin. The pleasure of his kisses and caress of his hands over her back
and bottom so distracted her that she forgot where they were. Never had she
felt anything like it. Hot blood rushed to the junction of her thighs and her
breasts were so sensitive that she moaned as his palms moved to cup them.

“Ah, sweet Bianca, you have no idea what you are doing to
me.”

Bianca had no intention of letting his lips and mouth do
anything but give her pleasure. She reached to grasp the back of his head to
bring his mouth back to hers.

“Kiss me,” she demanded and offered her mouth in a sweet
invitation that he could not refuse.

The feel of her soft body in his arms pressed so intimately
to him was raising a problem that Draco knew he could not solve.

Not with her. Never with her.

The thought was so unacceptable that it sobered him
immediately and, too soon, Draco reluctantly ended the kiss. He was content for
a few long moments just to hold her close. He stroked her long, silky hair with
his large, calloused hand and savored the feel of her small lush body pressed
against him.

“Ah, sweet Bianca, you are much too much of a temptation.
You set me on fire!”

“Bianca?” She paused and drew back to look at his face,
questioningly.

“Yea.”

“You called me Bianca. Thrice!” Her whole body stiffened and
he knew their play was over. “You would play me the fool!”

He had only meant to tease her a little and maybe steal a
kiss or two before he let her know that she had not fooled him with her little
charade in the Great Hall. This was his fault. He had not meant to let things
go this far.

“You knew? You knew all along!”

She scrabbled off his chest and out of the tub. “You kept
the knowledge from me on purpose, so I would come here and act the wanton maid
for you.”

“Do not act like the victim here, Lady Bianca. You started
this. You are not the injured party here. If any was harmed in this
foolishness, it is Charles. You are only irritated because you failed to fool
me as you did him.” Draco had the good sense not to laugh outright.

Bianca found no humor in the situation. None at all. Not
now. Not now that she discovered she possessed extraordinary feelings for him.
Her eyes widened as she attempted to hold back the tears that threatened to lay
her low with her disappointment. Then her eyes narrowed to mere slits as she
continued to stare at his naked chest, fighting for control. It was her anger
that saved her and she let it spill out over him in hot words.

“My reputation could be ruined if anyone found out that I
had been alone with you in your chambers while you bathed.” Bianca’s temper
began to spill forth and she hit him with her best threat. “You are fortunate
my stepmother had no knowledge as to whom she sent to you or she would be on
the other side of that door, demanding that you wed me.”

Even though she had meant it to sound like a devastating
scenario, Bianca swallowed back the sob as she fought back the frightening
image in her mind of this giant warrior laughing in her face just before he
walked away, leaving her behind with her heart shattered in tiny pieces lying
on the ground at her feet. But as she watched his handsome face, it lost all
traces of humor and his lips pressed into a grim line as he actually blanched
beneath his sun-darkened skin. It was evident that he had not thought of this.
That he might not want her as a wife was something she refused to think about
right now.

In truth, Draco had not stopped to consider the consequences
of his scheme and now he berated himself for his stupidity. It was not that the
young lady was undesirable. She was just the opposite. But he had no taste for
marriage, and he would never curse any woman, especially one as beautiful as
the famed Beauty of Castle Neige, with marriage to a beast such as himself. He
was too old for her as well as battle-scarred, with a reputed past as
horrendous as his face and body. A gently bred maiden like Bianca should marry
a benevolent lord who would see to her comfort and happiness. She should marry
a man intelligent enough to hire warriors like the Black Dragon to keep his
lands and the people in his care safe.

“You need not look so devastated at the prospect of having
to marry me,” she spat at him. Her words cut through his reflections and he
watched as she talked herself into a grand rage. “The only ones who know I am
here would never breathe a word of this,” Bianca shouted.

“Everyone will know if you do not lower your voice, my lady.
You are shouting.” His deep voice held a wealth of amusement. It was apparent
that she was used to getting her own way, because when she was thwarted, she
acted like a child. Her people clearly doted on her every whim.

“Oh you brute! This is all your fault.” Bianca turned her
back on Draco and wrung the water from her gown.

For a long moment, he watched her. She swallowed hard
several times. It suddenly occurred to him that she was on the verge of tears.
Draco took the opportunity to get out of the tub while her back was to him,
preserving what little bit of dignity she had left. He silently cursed himself
for letting his plotting go so far as to lure an innocent young maiden into his
chambers, coming close to seducing her while she bathed him. He was surely
becoming perverse in his old age.

“I did not mean to offend you by reacting as I did at the
mention of marrying you, but I have no plan to wed, not ever.”

“Never?”

“Yea. That is right. I will never take a wife.” Draco
managed to pull on his robe before Bianca turned around to look at him
incredulously.

“Why is that? Would you not marry me if we fell in love?”

He snorted at the notion. “I do not believe in love, my
lady.”

Instead of laughing at him, as Charles had, Bianca merely
nodded, her face taking on a pensive expression. “I agree with you.”

“You agree with me? About what?”

“Love, of course.”

This time Draco did not try to hide his mirth, and he
laughed right in her face. The sound was a rusty resonance, as if his laugh had
not been set free in quite some time. “You cannot fool me on that account
either, Lady Bianca. All young maidens, especially those actively seeking
husbands, they all believe in love.”

“You are wrong, Lord Draco. I do not believe in love. And I
am not the one seeking a husband. It is my stepmother who wants me wed and gone
from here. I am perfectly happy living a single life. I have my duties and
hobbies to keep me employed.”

Her solemnity sobered Draco and he stared at her in
disbelief. Was she serious? He looked at her lovely face and somber eyes and it
came to him that she was indeed earnest. He began to see her in a completely
different light than that which he had thought possible. She was the beautiful
Bianca de Neige, but it seemed that her beauty went much deeper than just her
lovely, soft skin. For the first time in years, Draco considered how his life
would have been different if he had met a woman like Bianca de Neige when he
had been young and naïve enough to believe in love. But as soon as the foolish
thought entered his head, he pushed it out. He took Bianca’s arm and led her
dripping toward the door.

“What have I said to offend you?” she asked, running to keep
up with his long-legged strides.

“Nothing, my lady.”

His brusque reply left no room for further questioning, so
Bianca kept quiet while he opened the door and firmly placed her on the other
side of the threshold. Turning around to ask him once again, what she had done
to offend him, she found him staring at her with such intensity that she was
sure he could read her every thought. Her gaze settled on his firm, full lips
and she blushed, hoping he could not, or he would know that she wanted him to
kiss her again.

“Do not play with fire, my lady, unless you want to get
burned.”

Blast him! He could read her mind. “I don’t know what you
mean, my Lord Draco.” She tried to hide behind obtuseness.

His answering smile told her he was not fooled.

“Will I see you at the evening meal?” Bianca cursed her
fleet tongue, never stopping to consider her words before they were out in the
open between them. She awaited his reply with a great deal of anxiety.

“I will need to eat.”

“Oh yes. You will. We would not want to starve you.”

“No. Never say that I was mistreated at the hands of the
Neige family.”

Still not able to get her feet to move, Bianca quickly
thought of something else to say in the stillness of the hall. “Is there
anything you need before I go?”

“Well, yes, actually there is something I have been
wondering about, since you ask. Perhaps you could help me.”

His kiss came swiftly and was fiercely possessive, giving
Bianca no time to react before he ended it and the door shut firmly in her
face, the sound of the bolt securing on the other side. Bianca touched her lips
with her trembling fingertips as she stood there for a moment in a daze.

“Oh, my! He does indeed like me.” A smug smile flitted
across her lips. “Well, my Lord Draco, you have met your match in this little
dragon slayer.”

* * * * *

“Get the men together, Charles. We are leaving,
immediately.”

Draco stomped down the corridor of the stables where he
found his handsome cousin checking on their livestock. The heavy, putrid
atmosphere suited his mood just fine. He wanted to be reminded of the earthy
things in life. It was imperative that he get away from anything that reminded
him of the Lady Bianca de Neige. Surrounded by the pungent smell of horse
manure and fresh hay, the remembrance of the exotic fragrance she wore mixed
with her own womanly scent quickly diluted with every step as he made his way
to the stall housing his stallion. Breathing deeply of the stable bouquet, hay
and horse shit, Draco strove to put the enticing Lady Bianca out of his mind
once and for all by stating again, more firmly his intent.

“We are leaving immediately, Charles,” he repeated.

“What is this, Draco? We only just arrived and already you
want to move on? I think not. We came here for a purpose and I will not be
leaving until it is accomplished. I have not yet won the hand of my lady.”

“Your lady is not the Beauty de Neige.”

When Charles arched a golden brow in unspoken admonishment,
Draco had to reiterate. “Well, she is, but she is not the Lady de Neige,
daughter of the duke. The legendary beauty you journeyed the length of France
to woo and win for your wife.”

“I am well aware of this, Draco. But it matters naught.
Modesta de Neige is also a great beauty and I understand that she is an heiress
in her own right. Do you think I have not done some investigation after our
meeting with the Duchess Heloise this morn? Lady Modesta’s marriage lands are
vast and her dowry, though not as magnificent as her cousin’s, is acceptable. I
am losing nothing. If anything, I stand to gain the affection of a lovely young
maiden whom I find extremely attractive and adorably naïve. I look forward to
the task of educating her in all things once I have persuaded the duke that I
am the best choice as her husband. It is fortunate that I was not given the
opportunity to ask the Lady Bianca to wed me or I would be backtracking to get
out of that predicament.”

His answer took Draco by surprise. He had not considered
that his cousin, with his obsession to obtain wealth to refurbish the estates
that had been awarded him, would be satisfied to marry a lesser heiress, but it
seemed that he was infatuated with the Lady Modesta. True, she was a lovely
maiden, but in Draco’s estimation she lacked spirit, a commodity he would
require in a wife, if indeed, he were looking for one.

Stopping before the stall that housed his black stallion,
Inferno, Draco picked up a bucket of oats and poured the grain into a feeding
trough for his faithful destrier. He patted the horse’s soft muzzle in greeting
as the steed snorted noisily before accepting his offering and settled down to
eat.

“How did you know?” Charles asked, curiously as he watched
his cousin.

“How did I know what?”

“Do not try to distract me with your act of ignorance. You
knew that the maidservant was the legendary Beauty de Neige right from the
first. How did you figure it out?”

“I did not; not at first. I knew she was not what she
appeared to be, but it was the Duchess’s description of her stepdaughter that
gave away the whole charade.”

“Yea, I was not pleased to be fooled in such a way, but as
it turned out I am well pleased that the two young ladies did so. After you
retired to your chambers to bathe, I asked a few pertinent questions about the
two cousins and found that the bold Bianca is known for leading her shy cousin
into peccadilloes. Speaking of which, how fared your bath?”

“Fine,” Draco replied a bit tersely as the muscles in his
broad shoulders lifted to straighten his large body to its full height. A snort
of disbelief from his companion had him clenching his jaw in a stubborn line.
He was not about to admit his blunder in judgment even to his cousin. When he
requested that the black-haired maidservant, who had the audacity to spill an
entire pitcher of cider in his lap, be sent to his chambers to assist with his
bath, he had known for a certainty that the duchess had no notion that she sent
her stepdaughter. Even while his conscience pricked him for his devious
scheming, he chose to ignore it. He wanted her. From the moment that he noticed
her in the hall, he was attracted to her. But when he caught her and pulled her
on to his lap and her soft, curvy body pressed against his, he knew what pure
lust was and that part of his anatomy under her round little bottom sat up and
saluted. He wanted, no, he needed that leverage over her. Her deception
fascinated him and at the time, he wanted some private time with her, to study
her, to teach her a lesson.

“Is it true then?”

“Is what true?” Draco turned when Charles sidled up next to
him at the stall gate, and reached out to pat the magnificent black warhorse.

“Is it true what the bards sing about Bianca de Neige?”

“How would I know that, Charles?”

“It was she who helped you bathe, was it not?”

“Yea.” Draco’s voice was low and threatening. “I warn you
now, Cousin, that information goes not further. I do not want it bandied about
that the lady did anything unworthy to her station.” He turned and glowered at
his cousin, waiting for his agreement. “I am serious, Charles. I want no
scandal associated with her.”

“In that we are in total agreement, cousin. The maiden may
be outrageous in some of her actions but you will be pleased to know she has
many loyal subjects here who would do most anything to protect her. You worry
needlessly.” Charles clapped his cousin on the back and grinned teasingly. “It
is obvious by your defense of the lady that she has captured your attention, if
not your heart, eh? Could it be that you find the renowned Beauty de Neige
irresistible?”

If his sun-bronzed skin had not already been dark, the blush
that stole over Draco’s high, chiseled cheeks would have given away his private
feelings about the lovely Bianca. But fortunately, the dimness of the stables
and his dark complexion saved his manly pride. He turned the emotions he
refused to acknowledge back on his inquisitive cousin with a vengeance.

“If that were true, then why am I about to saddle my steed
and ride out of here without a backward glance at the revered beauty?”

“Ha ha! You have fallen for her, after all.” Charles barked
with laughter, ignoring the icy glare that Draco leveled at him. He laughed
even harder when Draco stalked away and began gathering his saddle and other
trappings.

“Wait, Draco. Do not go. At least not today. The day is
nearly spent and you will not reach anywhere pertinent by nightfall. Stay the
night and, if you still feel that you need to leave, then do so at dawn with a
fresh day ahead of you. But I warn you, cousin,” Charles’ bright mood sobered,
“I will not be accompanying you. I have found the woman I plan to marry and I
do not intend to leave here without her.”

Deciding that he could survive one night in Castle Neige,
Draco consented with a blunt nod, and returned his saddle to its place.

“First thing in the morning, Charles, my men and I will be
on the road and headed home.”

“Perhaps you should inform your men of your intentions or
they might not be around in the morning to meet that deadline.”

“Why is that?”

“They were discussing making a journey out to the gypsy camp
that lies in the woods just past the northern fields of the estate. I am sure
your men will be headed there for a bit of a diversion.”

“A little diversion sounds good. Perhaps I will join them on
their escapade.”

* * * * *

“What think you?” Bianca asked her reflection in the mirror
as she pivoted around and around, looking at herself from every possible angle.
She had searched most of the afternoon through her wardrobe and had finally
found the one gown that she was sure would attract Lord Draco’s eye. Since he
had only thus far seen her in her worst gown she reasoned that she would have
to work doubly hard to impress the man. “I think this might do just fine. I
have always received great compliments when wearing this gown. The plum color
is said to complement the color of my eyes. Or so one gallant fellow informed
me.”