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Naked Dragon Page 14


  THIRTY-THREE

  “I hate snakes,”McKenna shouted. “But you wanted it to get me?”

  Bastian’s man lance wept and grew smaller as McKenna grabbed her skirt, slipped it on over her shorts, and walked away. “McKenna, there are a few things you should know,” he called after her.

  She stopped and turned back to him. “Yeah, well, there are a few things you should know, too. Like, now that I’m looking at you from a distance, it does look like—” She hesitated and crossed her arms. “I’m probably hungover from that buzz I felt in the water, but it still looks like there are creatures flying around your head.”

  “Your hallucinations are from being in the water with me. Remember when I said that I find water enchanting? Well, that thing I have that makes me a healer, it seeps out my pores, and if you’re in the water with me, you are apt to feel light-headed. Buzzed.”

  She raised a brow. “You’re lying through your perfect white teeth. And I don’t think that was enchantment I was feeling.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Your nose is growing.”

  And that wasn’t all, considering the way her wet clothes clung to her incredible figure—an hourglass figure, he’d learned. He wanted them off her. Now.

  “Come out of the damned water so we can talk,” she ordered.

  “I am not quite ready.”

  “I am the boss, remember. I order you to come out of that water and tell me the truth.”

  He started walking toward her very, very slowly. “Okay, the truth is that I used to be a dragon, and the murals in your bedrooms are scenes from the island I left to come here, and now I am a man again, but I still have dragon magick. That is what you felt in the water with me. My magick.”

  “You’re certifiable,” she snapped as she walked away, and who could blame her?

  “Dewcup,” he shouted, “the faery who came through the veil with me—who Whitney did see—has been tormenting your cat. Riding her. That’s why Jaunty races around the house so much lately.”

  McKenna let her hands fall to her side and faced him. “Came through the veil?”

  “From a parallel plane of existence, on an uncharted island, known as the Island of Stars.”

  “Can you be out in an hour?”

  “Out of the water?”

  “Out of my life.”

  “I could leave your employ, but I do not want to leave you. The truth is, I have wanted you since I set eyes on you at Vivica’s the morning you came looking for a handyman.” Perhaps he could equate heart mate with “the female one wants to mate with.” Because, now, it fit.

  He did not know if one used a man lance with a heart mate, but he desperately wanted to use his with McKenna. Andra had not said to make his heart mate’s body his own, just her quest.

  “Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “You can’t want me. If you’ve been marooned on an island, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Surely you do not mean that I should want a string-bean creature like those who follow me?”

  McKenna disappeared inside the house.

  Bastian left the water, put on his shirt and jeans, and sat on the porch steps. Everyone would lose if he left, especially him, because he would lose McKenna, the first important person in his world. Andra belonged to him and his brothers.

  McKenna belonged to him alone. Did wanting a woman to belong to him make her his heart mate? He had not yet found the sign of the crowned dragon. But he must be right about McKenna.

  Confusion taunted him. If he lost her, everyone stood to lose. Andra would lose her magick and the good she could do. His brothers could lose their lives. McKenna, her farm. Her ancestors, their legacy. McKenna’s friends, their home.

  The only winners would be Killian and a blackhearted developer.

  “McKenna!” he called, going inside. “You have to see reason.”

  “No,” she said, standing in her living room with a towel over her clothes and the television on. “Despite your wild, borderline-schizo personality and imagination, here is the truth that matters.” She indicated the television. “Sit yourself down and enjoy the fashion show, then you tell me that this”—she indicated herself with scorn—“is what you want.”

  To please her, he accepted a towel as well, folded it on a leather ottoman, sat, and looked at the television. He could not believe what he saw. He pulled the ottoman closer, heard McKenna’s mumbled “I told you,” and could not take his eyes from the sight. “Goddess help them,” he whispered. “They need feeding more than the women who follow me.”

  McKenna looked up. “What did you say?”

  “They are dying. Look at them. You can see their bones beneath their skin. It is savage, parading them around this way. I mean, I thought the women who followed me were pitiable, but these women should be put in a hospital. I expected more compassion on the earthen plane.”

  McKenna placed a hand against the far side of his face, a touch he savored, for fear it would be the last, but she turned his gaze her way. “Bastian, do you have tears in your eyes?”

  “I would for any living creature so abused.”

  “You’ve been calling my cat ‘snack.’”

  He covered her hand with his to keep her there. “When I was a dragon, she would have been a snack. No, do not give up on me. I have been evolving by the day. I see your devotion to Jaunty with her silly hat and tissue worship.”

  McKenna pulled against his hold. “You tell too many fairy tales,” she said. “I would prefer the truth.”

  He held firm, and she stopped fighting. “Sit down,” he said, “and let me tell you about my life. About why I care for you. Why my body screams for a connection with yours.”

  For a minute, he thought she had softened, but then she looked like a frightened earth animal. “You don’t care for me,” she said. “In the lake, that was magick. You said so yourself.”

  “The wonder was you experiencing my magick and me experiencing your pleasure. My emotions, my very being, is transformed when I enter a body of water, and evidently my magick can be absorbed by those who are in the water with me. Earth is new to me. I am finding my way, and my magick changed and evolved with my transformation.”

  “So, now I have a magick lake?” she snapped. “And if a duck stops in for a swim on its way south for the winter, it’s going to fall in love with me? Will a love-struck purple swan start following me around the yard the way women follow you?”

  “When I leave the water, so does my magick . . . I believe.” He hoped. “As for the trail of women, I have no explanation for it. None.”

  “Don’t you?” McKenna laughed. “There’s a lot of clueless male in you for a former dragon.”

  “Then you believe me?”

  “No. Not your story. Not your declaration of caring. You and I, we’re beauty and the beast.”

  “I know I am a beast,” he said, “but if you could find it in your heart to—”

  “Uh, Clueless? You’re the beauty.”

  “You are wrong. Listen well,” he said, taking her hand. “I can restrain you if I want to, make you listen to me. I am that strong. But I prefer you hear my story because you want to.”

  McKenna pulled her hand from his. “Can we get into dry clothes first? We’ll catch pneumonia like this. The temperature seems to be dropping from hot as hell to cold as a snowman’s toes.”

  “You have men made of snow, here on earth? Are they magickal supernatural ancients like me?”

  McKenna tilted her head and hesitated. “Okay, dry clothes, then back here for shock therapy.”

  Bastian sensed her indecision. “I am warning you,” he said. “If you run out that door, get in your truck, and drive as fast as possible, I can catch you.”

  McKenna laughed, not a compliment. “You have a terrible sense of direction, remember? You said so yourself.”

  “Perhaps, but my sense of smell is remarkably keen.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “You think I smell?”


  “Your scent is unique, like ripe berries, exotic spices, and rare island flowers. Being near you drives me wild, and you were doubly intoxicating when we were kissing in the lake. You smell like the woman I ache to have in my bed.”

  She sat quickly, as if her legs refused to hold her. “I shouldn’t believe a word you say.”

  “Meet me back here in five minutes and I will change your mind.” He took her by the hand and she let him lead her to her bedroom. Good sign.

  Until she closed the door in his face.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “You take my breath away,” Bastian said when McKenna returned to the living room.

  “In a caftan made to hide my body?”

  “Your flaws are nothing to mine.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “You show me yours, and I will show you mine?”

  “Your story,” she said, sitting on the sofa. “Talk. I’m listening.”

  “Fire?” he asked, indicating the hearth. “It is cold because it hailed again a few minutes ago.”

  “Sure. A fire. Why not. At least it’s September now. I’ll get us a snack, and I don’t mean my cat.”

  Bastian caught her arm. “No food until you watch me start the fire.”

  She regarded his encroaching hand. “You gonna use magick? Or force?”

  He let her go with reluctance. “Dragon magick,” he said. “Watch.”

  She rolled her eyes but she watched as the fire he . . . breathed? Did he? Yes, and it enveloped the logs, which roared into a blaze on the instant.

  Bastian sat back on his heels and looked at her. “Do you know any humans who can do that?”

  She frowned and lowered herself to the ottoman. “You’re not human?”

  “I am, once again, but I retained several of my dragon characteristics despite my transformation, like my fire and my magick. They are likely important to my purpose here, but I do not know if I will keep them once I fulfill it.”

  “Human . . . again?”

  He sat on the striped chair to face her. “One minute my legion was trying to help establish the Romans as a military force in Britain; the next we were dragons banished to an island plane surrounded by an endless sea. You see, our enemy had a sorceress on the payroll—Killian, Crone of Chaos. Her trademark is hail and lightning. Sound familiar?”

  “You mean she followed you here? But why?”

  “Because I escaped her banishment, though not by myself. Andra, Goddess of Hope, set herself up as our protectress. She taught us to adapt and survive. She’s Killian’s polar opposite. Her magick is white to Killian’s black.”

  McKenna firmed her spine. “Your story is ridiculous.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Try scratching your nose with a wing claw. You asked about my scars? Dragon fights. Those suckers bite!”

  Bastian could tell that despite herself, McKenna could not hide her interest. “So this Killian is angry because you got away?”

  “Yes, and my brother dragons are still on the island. Andra can only send one at each phase of the moons, a phase you would call an eclipse. I came first to make way for the rest, and to prove that we can survive here. If I do not succeed, my brothers will die with the island, and Andra will lose her magick. She risked it all to get me here.”

  “Killian isn’t helping your cause, is she?”

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “I’m not certain I do, but for some unearthly reason, I have a paradoxical belief in you, if not in your words.”

  He took her hands in his. “I appreciate your candor.”

  “Is that really your island painted on my walls? That fantastic beauty exists?”

  A fantastic beauty existed in this wide-eyed woman before him, he thought. “The Island of Stars exists to the smallest details, bustards, faeries, dragons, and all.” He wanted to tell McKenna everything, but he dared not reveal her part in this, because if she knew that his success depended on a connection between them, she would never believe that his feelings for her were real.

  “So, you’re not Special Ops?” she asked after a doubtful silence.

  “The Roman army did not have special forces. In this country’s army, believe me, I would be.” He showed her his left palm. “This tattoo proves that I belonged to the Roman army.”

  “Tats are a dime a dozen,” she said, indicating that it proved nothing, he supposed. “And the dragon curling around your arm?”

  “When I came through the veil, I got the dragon to keep me humble.”

  “Keep eating Popsicle sticks. You’ll stay humble.”

  He liked the way her eyes danced when she teased him.

  “Your vocabulary is getting better by the day,” she said, almost changing the subject.

  “I have been on your computer every night, else how would I know about Special Ops? I read and learn quite fast.”

  “Seriously,” she said, “how do I know that you’re not delusional?”

  “You saw me leap from your roof. And the day I arrived, I dragon-leapt into your basement. Back then, I could not yet control my leap.”

  “You were like a leaping lizard?”

  “Is that a joke, like Wyatt tells?”

  “No good? I’m trying to teach you to laugh.”

  A positive sign, he thought. He would have to stay for her to do that. He bared his teeth in a mock grin, so she would think she had a challenge on her hands.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t say it would be easy. So, the Roman army? Is that why you speak so formally?”

  “I learn your words, but I cannot seem to string them together as you do. I expect that has to do with my early language skills.”

  “How old are you, exactly?”

  “I have no idea. I lost track of time. Dragons live for centuries. Humans do not, of course, but I would rather be here with you for one human life than live for centuries without you.”

  “Especially because your island is dying.”

  “No, especially because you are here.”

  McKenna sighed. “I always feared that I’d end up with some ancient dude who couldn’t perform.”

  “Define perform. Because I cannot dance, or act, or play an instrument.”

  “I mean ‘do the deed.’”

  Bastian blanked.

  “You’re annoyingly literal, aren’t you? In bed, I mean, during sex. Does everything work? I’m especially impressed by the remarkable size of your package.”

  “Package?” He held his hands, palm up. “I have no package.”

  McKenna sighed heavily. “You are determined to make me blush, aren’t you? You appear to be extraordinarily endowed in the sex-organ department, and I’ve wondered if it all works, especially now that I know you’re so old.”

  “Ah.”

  “Wow, that put a gleam in your eye.”

  “I would greatly anticipate the opportunity to wield my man lance.”

  “Have you never used your, uh, man lance before?”

  “Possibly, when I was a man. Never as a dragon. We were an army of men.”

  “I’m glad you told me the truth about your sexual preference earlier, because learning you spent centuries with only men for company would have made me certain you were gay. I’m so glad you’re not. And I do hope performance isn’t a problem.” McKenna covered her rosy cheeks with her hands. “Did I say that out loud?”

  “I am glad you did. My man spike has been going to waste for centuries. I am so ready to ‘perform’ that our kiss in the lake nearly ended my first performance too soon.”

  “Your mouth on my breasts nearly did that to me.”

  He adored the gleam in her eyes and vowed to put it there often. “So you believe me about my past?”

  Her outright laugh charmed and aroused him. “Not a word,” she said.

  So much for arousal. “But I breathed fire for you!”

  “A parlor trick. Jumping off the roof, not such a big deal. You chose a deep-pitched section where the f
oundation is totally underground.”

  He lifted her in his arms. “Come. I will show you more proof.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Bastian carried her out the kitchen door with no intention of putting her down. “Are we going to the lake for more magick? The hail’s turned to an icy rain. It’s also dark out. I think I’d like to be able to see you when you prove—”

  “So impatient, my Kenna.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Kenna, I called you, and I claimed you at the same time. Does that displease you?”

  “My mother used to call me Kenna. I like it. I like the sound of it in your voice. You do have a bit of a foreign accent. The kind women fall for.”

  “I will keep my voice and accent in mind when trying to seduce you.” He would not push for her reaction to his claiming her. He could be patient. “What about your father and grandfather?” he asked. “You speak little of them.”

  “My grandfather abandoned my grandmother when my mom was a kid. Midlife crisis. My father died in a car accident when I was five. I still miss him. His flannel shirt smelled of leather and spice—I remember it against my cheek as he rocked me to sleep at night. I still choke up if I hear the French Canadian lullaby he sang to me. I felt safe in his arms.”

  “I’m glad you had a good father, and I hope that you feel safe in my arms, too.”

  “In a former dragon’s arms? The jury’s still out on that. Where are we going?” she asked as she wove her arms tighter around his neck.

  “I am going to the backyard, here, where the addition meets the main house.”

  “This is where I saw you jump off the roof.”

  “Yes. The ground is even here. No bushes to fall into.”

  “And it’s lower—Eek!” She screamed as he leapt from the ground to the roof.

  “Okay,” she said. “That doesn’t seem so normal in reverse, easy pitch or not.”

  “Why, thank you, my Kenna.”

  Having suffered Killian’s wrath from up here, he did not want to take a chance with McKenna’s safety, so he settled them, her on his lap, in a nook between one of the gables and her chimney. The chimney would be warm from the fire, and he could hook it with his arm, in the event of a hail-slide. Also, the gable protected them from the elements.