Love in the Time of Dragons (19 page)

“Nothing has ended,” he said, his mouth moving across my temple with gentle little kisses that almost left me weeping. “You are here now. Life has begun again.”

I turned my face into his neck, kissing his pulse point, but saying nothing.

The car stopped in front of the house, and I took a minute to gaze around before allowing Baltic to escort me inside. The grounds were pleasant, if a bit bare of anything but a tennis court and a hint of a swimming pool in the back.

Baltic led me inside, turning back for a moment to speak with the driver. I looked around, curious as to whether this home would be as soul-satisfying as the other. The entry hall was done in shades of white and egg cream, with white tile on the floor, an elegant staircase in white to the right, and a magnificent crystal chandelier. It was very pretty . . . and completely barren of warmth or soul or heart.

“Come,” Baltic said holding out his hand, having finished with the driver. I noticed that he, too, set the security alarms before escorting me to a room that opened onto the entryway.

I ignored his hand, needing a little distance to keep my mind—not to mention libido—under control. “So, this is—ack!”

He leaped on me, positively leaped on me, pulling me down onto the couch, his mouth hot on my skin.

“Baltic!” I shrieked, trying to push him off me.

“We will now mate,” he announced, just like that was the end of the story.

“Like hell we will!”

He kissed me then, kissed me with enough fire that my feet were burning by the time he was done.

“Whoa,” I said, gathering my wits together enough to push him back. “I can’t do this. You have to give me some time. Besides, there’s something I haven’t told you about—”

“There is no time,” he interrupted, sliding his hands beneath my sweatshirt. “I must claim you as my mate now, before another can do so.”

“Now hold on here a minute!” I seized his wrists and stopped his hands from moving farther. “I agree that we have a lot to talk about, and I’m ashamed to say that I enjoyed that kiss more than I should have.”

“There is no shame in what we do,” he interrupted again. “We are mated.”

“We are not mated. We may have been mated in the past, but that was before you died. I don’t know for sure what happened to me, but—”

“You died, as well.”

I stopped and stared at him. “You knew that?”

“You died right before me.” Pain filled his eyes and he closed them for a moment, his face twisted with remembered agony. Without thinking, I moved closer, putting my hand on his chest. “I was in the tunnel beneath Dauva. Kostya had turned traitor and was trying to kill me. I was just about to disembowel him when my heart stopped, and I knew you had been killed, knew that bastard Constantine had finally made good his threat and destroyed you rather than let me have you.”

“Constantine killed me?” I asked, goose bumps rippling up my arms and legs. “But . . . he said he loved me.”

“He swore that if he could not have you, I should not. And without you, I would have no life.” His eyes opened and tears filled mine at the depths of pain so visible on his face. I pressed myself against his body, wanting to comfort him, wanting to ease the agony that time did not lessen. “My heart died with you at that moment, and I knew I would not survive. So I let Kostya kill me. It was easier than surviving the few remaining hours I had.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, blinking back tears.

His mouth brushed mine in a gentle acknowledgment of what I offered. “It wasn’t your fault. I know now that you were only trying to stop the war. But you were once my mate, and you will be so again, now, this minute. I must claim you, Ysolde. We must mate as dragons mate, so that all will know you are truly mine once again.”

I slipped out of his arms, my stomach sick and cold. “If things were different, if my life had not turned out as it had, I would accept your offer. But there is something you don’t know, and aren’t going to like.”

“What?” he asked, gripping my arms tightly.

“I have a husband. He is an oracle.”

Anger flared in his ebony eyes. “You have taken a lover?”

“No, I have taken a husband. Had taken. I don’t remember marrying him, and for that matter, don’t particularly like him. In fact, I’m planning on divorcing him, because he’s a bastard. But I must have had nicer feelings for him at some point, because why else would I marry him?”

A muscle in his neck twitched. “You said your memory has been destroyed. You are not to blame for taking a husband.”

“I’m glad you think so, but he is my husband, regardless, and I’m sorry, Baltic. It may not be much of a marriage, but I would be less of a person if I were to be unfaithful. I can’t sleep with you until I am separated from him.”

“You are my mate,” he repeated stubbornly.

“Yes, I think I would be, but I have some moral values, and one of those is to not commit adultery.”

The muscle twitched again. “This is not an issue. I will kill this husband who dares claim what is mine, and then you will be able to give yourself to me freely.”

I laughed; I just couldn’t help myself. He was so earnest, and it tickled my funny bone. “I appreciate the fact that you have absolutely no qualms about killing an innocent man, but that would be even less tolerable to me than straying. No. You will not kill my husband.”

“Stop saying that word,” he snapped, releasing me to pace the width of the room.

“I’m sorry. I will endeavor not to talk about him.” It was an effort, but I managed to keep from smiling.

“I realize that you feel some mortal emotions toward this . . . person . . . but you are a dragon. You are my mate. You must be claimed. It would be dangerous for you to remain as you are.”

“Dangerous,” I said, skeptical to my toes. I managed to keep from throwing myself on him, knowing if I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist him a second time.

“You are a wyvern’s mate. If other wyverns were to see you and know you for what you are, they could steal you from me,” he said, and I realized that he was deadly serious.

“I hate to break this to you, but unless there are some septs that I don’t know about, I’ve seen all the wyverns. I met them all at the
sárkány
. No one even looked twice at me, at least not in the way you’re implying.”

“Nonetheless, you could be claimed by another.” He paced past me, his hands behind his back. “I can’t tolerate that. Once, I let you slip away from me—I have learned from that mistake, and will not do so again.”

My heart warmed. I couldn’t help it. Oh, he was being arrogant and pushy and domineering, but none of that really mattered, not when I could see the insecurity and fear that he tried so hard to keep from me. “I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but it’s not necessary.”

“Even now they are plotting to take you!” he said stubbornly.

“Who?” I asked, confused.

“The unattached wyverns, Bastian and Kostya. They have seen you, and they want you.”

“Oh, for the love of all that’s good and glorious! It’s flattering that you think every wyvern out there is panting after me, but you’re way off the scale here, Baltic. No one gives a damn about me, at least not in that sense. You really do take the cake, do you know that?”

“I have no cake!” he said, deliberately misinterpreting me.

I slapped my hand down on the table, frustrated, amused, and wildly aroused, all at the same time. “Well, that’s a shame, because I could sure go for a piece right now.”

“If you are hungry, I will feed you,” he said somewhat grumpily

“Maybe later,” I said with a smile. I looked around the room, examining the few objets d’art scattered around. “This is a very pretty house.”

The sitting room was also done in white and egg cream, with beige and white striped overstuffed armchairs, less substantial black and gold Regency chairs, and a honey oak parquet floor.

“It’s abominable, but it has an excellent view of the surrounding area, so I will be able to see attackers before they can strike.”

I stopped in front of the long fireplace, tipping my head as I examined him. He looked the same as he had earlier—chocolate hair pulled back in a short ponytail, the widow’s peak drawing attention to his high brow, his eyes just as piercing as they had been in my dreams. I sensed power about him that I realized with a shock was his dragon fire, carefully leashed, but present nonetheless. “Is that how you think? In terms of people attacking you?”

“Dragons, not people.”

“Well, perhaps if you didn’t run around slaughtering other dragons, you wouldn’t have to protect yourself from them when they seek revenge.”

A frown pulled his eyebrows close. “If you are referring to the wars—”

“Actually, I’m not,” I said, heedlessly interrupting him. “I’m talking about the sixty-eight blue dragons you killed a couple of months ago.”

He said nothing for a moment, pulling a long cream and gold curtain across a floor-to-ceiling window before turning to consider me. “What would you think if I told you that I was not responsible for those deaths?”

“I’d say . . .” I thought for a moment, my lips pursing. “I’d say that everyone believes you are.”

He shook his head. “That is not what I wanted to know.”

“It’s what you asked,” I pointed out.

“But it is not what I wanted to know, a fact of which you are well aware.” To my surprise, he smiled. “If you had any doubt that you are a dragon, Ysolde, the fact that you avoid answering a direct question should be proof positive.”

“You should do that more often.”

“Point out reasons why you should recognize the fact that you’re a dragon?”

“No, smile.”

His smile faded. “I have had no reason to do so.”

“Maybe not, but a sense of humor is right at the top of traits I find sexy in a man.”

“You already think I’m sexy,” he said with arrogant ease, strolling toward me with the same sense of a panther gliding silently down a jungle path that I remembered from the other Ysolde’s life.

“In the past? No doubt. But there are a whole lot of sexy men around today.” I kept my voice light, striving not to let him hear the smile in it.

He paused, a moment of uncertainty in his face. “You find this other man, this husband, sexy?”

“Gareth? Lord, no.” I frowned, wondering about that.

“Then why did you mate with him?”

“Physically, you mean?”

He nodded, watching me with the intensity of a panther, too.

“I don’t really know. I must have slept with him at some time. That’s what married people do. But . . .” I sat and tried to examine the still impenetrable mass that was my memories. “No. There’s nothing there. I can see his face, and I know he’s a bastard, and I don’t wish to be married to him anymore, but beyond that, it’s pretty much a void.”

“That is a small comfort,” Baltic said with a wry twist to his lips. “What man is it you find sexy, then? Is it Gabriel? You find him arousing?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the sudden look of sheer outrage that passed over his face. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“You are a wyvern’s mate,” he snorted. “He is a wyvern, and you were staying in his house. Did he touch you?”

“Even if he wanted to—and I assure you, he views me as nothing more than a big pain in the ass—May would kill him. And quite probably me, although perhaps she’d let me live because if she killed me, she’d feel obligated to take in Brom.”

“Who is Brom?” he asked, his frown back. “Is he yet another man who arouses you?”

“I think lots of men are sexy, but that doesn’t mean squat,” I said, trying not to laugh again.

“It does to me.”

“Pfft. Like you haven’t ever seen a woman and thought she was attractive?”

“No,” he said in complete seriousness.

I gawked at him, just a little gawk. “Oh, come on, Baltic.”

“You doubt my word?” he said, bristling at the implication that I thought he was lying.

“I think you’re trying to make me feel bad, yes.”

He sighed a very exaggerated sigh, pulling me to my feet. I stepped away immediately, knowing that just being close to him would leave me indulging my carnal desires. “Ysolde, you are my mate. I desire no other woman than you. I would not try to make you feel bad. I would not lie to you, a fact you should know.”

“All right, I apologize for doubting your word,” I said humbly, moving over to the window. Although my body screamed to be near him, my mind knew it was wiser to put a little distance between us.

“Good. Now tell me where this Brom is so that I might geld him.”

I laughed again, amused by the flash of ire in his eyes.

“You laugh at me, woman?” he said, stalking toward me.

I laughed even harder, holding him back with a hand on his chest. “Please do not geld my son.”

He blinked at me. “Your son?”

“Yes. Brom is my son. He’s nine. I think you will like him. He’s a little odd, but very clever, and has an amazing range of interests, including a love of history. I’m sure he’d love to talk to you about the things you’ve lived through.”

A muscle in his neck twitched. “You had my son with another man?”

“No, I had
my
son with another man.”

His hands fisted, his face a veritable storm cloud of anger. “By rights he should be mine! You are
my
mate! Any child you bear should be mine!”

“Oh, grow up,” I said, tired and suddenly annoyed.

I thought he might explode at that.

“I had Brom nine years ago. Nine years ago! So you can just deal with it, or not, but I warn you, I love Brom with all my heart, and I will not tolerate you treating him as if there is something inferior about him.”

“You love
me
with all your heart,” he yelled.

“Do you always yell?” I shouted back.