Liza (Dragon Isles Book 1) Page 3

  The woman spluttered again, this time louder. He lifted his head an instant before water gurgled from her mouth. Leo shifted her onto her side, so she didn’t choke on the emerging liquid. She coughed, a ragged exit of breath and more water.

  Leo scrutinized her, willing her to breathe on her own. Instead, she coughed and coughed, vomiting. Uncertain of how to help, Leo sheltered her from the sea breeze.

  Beneath the fetid stench of vomit and the salty tang of the sea, he caught a lighter and more attractive scent of herbs and flowers. The fragrance enticed him closer, and he used the waiting time to tend the wounds on her head. He licked across her temple, cleaning away the watery blood before he found the source.

  The woman ceased her coughing, yet she never spoke or stirred. She was breathing on her own now. Excellent.

  Soon, he’d cleansed the wound. While the edges were jagged, the scarring would be minimal. Such things worried females.

  Leo lifted his head to stare across the sea. A hazy shimmer shrouded the chain of islands protected by the druid’s magic. Alarmed, he sprang to his feet. The islands were fading.

  He must leave.

  Now.

  Leo summoned his dragon without taking his attention off his blurry island home. He glanced at the woman and hesitated. Leaving her here was a death sentence. Soon the tide would cover this sliver of sand. He could fly her to the clifftop, but what if he encountered humans with weapons? A bow and arrow capable of piercing his dragon scales?

  He scanned the sea again, fear at the dimming view propelling him to action. He’d take the woman with him and doctor her at his cottage. Once he discovered how or why they’d met, he’d return her to the mainland. Somehow.

  Leo lifted her with his talons, taking care not to pierce her pale skin or her strange clothes. He leaped, his wings catching the air, and headed for home.

  He flew fast, anxiety propelling him to speed. The islands grew fuzzier. He shot into a cloud, his body striking air so dense he barrel-rolled. He veered left where the misty haze shimmered with extra light. While he still struggled through the thickness, the air didn’t drag as hard against his wings. Without warning, he burst through the invisible barrier, his speed picking up as if he’d flung his body from a catapult.

  A trace of fear nipped at him until he spotted Hissing Isle in front of him and the thrust of familiar mountains. Curious, he turned his head, his blood running cold since he could no longer see the mainland. It was as if it had popped from existence.

  Leo slowed his wingbeats and set a course to his mountain cottage. He had no explanation for what had happened, yet a sense of satisfaction and excitement pulsed within his chest. He’d saved the woman, which pleased his dragon.

  The human skin side of him with his more complicated thoughts and ideas experienced a sliver of fear. The woman’s presence heralded danger.

  She was an unexpected impediment, and he’d need to consider what to do with her.

  4 – Gwenyth, The Beautiful

  She woke, her head throbbing. She lifted her hand to her skull, and her arm muscles ached too. The gloom in the room and the weird quietness had her tension rising. Her breath caught. Aided by the moonlight slipping through the large picture windows beyond the bed, her gaze flitted from square shapes to rounded objects.

  She struggled to remove the tight band from her waist. A masculine arm! She froze, not recalling going to bed. Was she sick? She struggled to remember.

  “Go back to sleep,” a masculine voice rumbled.

  Excellent idea.

  Exhaustion weighted her eyelids, her body. She smiled drowsily. Marriage and family were important, and she was lucky to have a wonderful man who held her in this protective manner during the night.

  When she woke again, daylight spilled through the window and the view beyond stole her breath. She stared at the mountain meadow and the distant trees—mainly pine. A stream meandered through the clearing, and chestnut cattle with sweeping horns grazed, their tails lazily flicking their contentment.

  She pushed to an upright position and groaned at the pulse in her head. Gingerly, she lifted her hand and probed the sore spots with her fingers.

  “Ouch!” she muttered, puzzled by the bandage she encountered.

  She tried to recall the reason a drummer thumped inside her head. Not a single answer presented itself.

  A faint murmur drew her attention, and she smiled. Her husband, with his beautiful green eyes and his too-long black hair, stood in the doorway. The sexy black stubble shading his jawline and framing his sensual mouth had her pulse racing. Her fingers itched to touch.

  “Morning…” She hesitated, her mind blank when she attempted to summon his name. “Sweetheart, why is my head so sore?”

  His face softened, and he prowled the distance between them. Stunned she could win such a beautiful man, she threaded her fingers in his callused ones.

  “Why can’t I remember your name?” She pushed at her mind, at her memories. What was her name? Panic roared through her, and her hand tightened, her nails digging into his flesh.

  “Shush, do not fear,” he whispered.

  Something in his stunning eyes reassured her and stomped on the burst of distress that shouted at her to flee. Kindness.

  “You fell and hit your head. I am Leo. You are Gwenyth, The Beautiful.”

  He’d doctored her wounds and called her beautiful. She relaxed a fraction more, curiosity taking precedence over her initial reaction. An image of a wedding flitted through her mind, dimming the throb for a welcome instant. A darkly handsome groom. A bride. Happiness. Guests waving farewell. The honeymoon…

  “Gwenyth?” Leo prompted.

  The name didn’t seem familiar, so she latched onto another part of his sentence. “I fell?”

  “You did. The bleeding has stopped. I have made you a potion to reduce the ache of your head. You stay there while I get it for you.”

  “No, Leo.” The pressure on her lower stomach informed her of an urgent need of a restroom. “I need the bathroom.”

  His brows drew together, and he opened a chest to retrieve a robe. He helped her stand and don it, his gaze strumming her naked body for an instant before he gifted her with a gentle smile. “This way.”

  “It’s crazy, I can’t remember. Sweetheart, I’m sorry to spoil our honeymoon.” Heat flushed her cheeks. “I can’t even remember if we made love. Did we?” Her body told her nothing, but her head… Her skull throbbed and ached with each shuffling step, the pain arrowing downward to pool behind her eyes. She turned her head, attempting to focus on his sexy features, and once again wondered how she’d won such a man. Just looking at him made her heart race, her body soften with urgent need.

  Leo wore black trousers and nothing else to cover the muscular, tattooed goodness of his chest. A magnificent, mainly green, dragon tattoo that stretched from shoulder to lower belly. Aware she was staring, she prodded again at her confused mind.

  Leo hesitated, and her swift glance didn’t aid her in reading him. “You were hurt,” he said. “There’s plenty of time.”

  She blinked against the brighter light as her husband gestured at a pair of clogs. Once she donned them, he guided her outdoors. Strange, his accent didn’t strike notes of recognition either, and it should, given how the rough sexiness made her shiver and imagine interminable nights of decadent passion.

  “Have we been here before?” She frowned, searching her memories, finding emptiness. A deep, endless vacuum. “What happened? How did I injure my head?”

  Leo tucked his arm around her shoulders when she teetered, his wintergreen scent filling her gasping breaths. “Easy there with the questions, my lodestone.”

  My lodestone. Had she heard the particular endearment before? Puzzled, she let him guide her along a short path, their footsteps muffled by pine needles. They halted before a small building, not much bigger than an old phone box. This one was constructed of logs and matched the main dwelling.

  “The long-drop is in
there.”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  “You could pick a tree.” Humor glinted in him, and his smile took him from handsome to breathtaking.

  “I’ll use the restroom. At least it doesn’t smell.”

  “A friend from a neighboring island designed it to become one with nature. Should I wait for you?”

  “Please. I feel as weak as a kitten.”

  “Once you’re done here, I’ll get you the potion to help your headache. I was lucky to have the correct herbs on hand.”

  Herbs? Gwenyth wanted to ask questions, but the pressure on her bladder urged her to speed. She took care of business and washed her hands using a thick, soapy substance and the warm water running into the scooped-out center of a rock. After drying her hands on a thick chocolate-brown towel, she exited the restroom.

  “That wasn’t so bad, my lodestone?”

  Her heart melted at the gentle teasing. She shook her head and moaned, the dart of pain almost bringing her to her knees.

  Leo scooped her off her feet, his rapid steps carrying them back to the cottage. Inside, Leo removed the clogs and set her on the bed. “Wait there while I get you the potion for your head. Are you hungry?”

  This time, she knew better than to communicate with the nod of her head. “No, I don’t want food.”

  “Get into bed. I won’t be long.”

  She slipped beneath the covers, exhausted after her trip outside. Why couldn’t she remember the accident? Crazy as it was, she hadn’t even recalled her husband’s name. Leo. She stared at the green meadow, the bright color bringing a hazy memory of…something. When she tugged at it, the recollection dissipated, leaving a yawning hole.

  She focused on the bedroom, and certainty blazed through her. She hadn’t visited here before. Positivity filled her, although she couldn’t say why.

  The second Leo appeared carrying a steaming pottery cup, she asked for confirmation. “Have I been here before?”

  “To my cottage? No, this is the first time.”

  “I thought so,” she said with satisfaction.

  “We haven’t known each other for long,” he said as he handed her the potion. “Drink this. It should help with the pain in your head.”

  She sipped the liquid with suspicion. It tasted sweet rather than tart, and for a potion, it wasn’t objectionable. “We had a whirlwind courtship?”

  He smiled. “We did.”

  She stared at the crinkles that formed at the corners of his eyes. He was still bare-chested, and her gaze took in the dragon tattoo. As she studied the beast, it winked at her, and a puff of tattoo smoke formed rings above its head. She gasped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your tattoo moved.” She blinked before focusing on his chest again. This time, the tattooed dragon waved and swished its tail.

  Leo glanced down, then back at her. He rolled his eyes. “He is my other half. My dragon likes you. In fact, he saw you first.”

  “A dragon?” she whispered, her gaze connecting with his. “I-I like dragons.”

  “Which is lucky for me.”

  “Have I seen your dragon?”

  “Of course.” He glided the tips of his fingers over her cheek. “Have you finished your tonic?”

  “Yes.”

  Leo took the cup from her. “Then stop worrying about dragons and everything else. Sleep.”

  “But I should remember you,” she protested. Everything in this situation seemed new, but he’d admitted they hadn’t known each other for long. Sighing, she reclined and let him cover her with a cozy woolen blanket. Sleep might clear the fuzziness in her head. She’d puzzle over everything later, and once her headache faded, she’d indulge herself and explore her husband’s gorgeous, sexy body.

  5 – No Ceremonial Ring

  Leo checked on the woman several times during the next two hours. His dragon insisted on it, and after remembering his old nurse shaking one of his older brothers awake after a head wound, he’d done the same thing. Gwenyth’s eyes had fluttered open; she’d frowned at him as she answered his questions and tumbled back into sleep.

  She believed she was his wife.

  It wasn’t unknown for a dragon to take a human as a mate. Not common, but it had happened. His dragon had prompted him to agree with the woman, and once he had, he’d seen the possibilities. If he told everyone he was married and acted as if it were so, he might wriggle out of this betrothal his parents had forced on him.

  Leo pondered the problems, mindspoke about them with his dragon. His parents for one, and then there was Nan, herself. “My parents will wonder why I didn’t tell them about my marriage.”

  “We didn’t have a chance to speak.”

  “But they’ll ask if I informed the head butler after their decree.”

  “Bah! He smirked at us and left the audience chamber as quickly as your parents. When did he offer an opportunity? They told us. They ordered. We must try this scheme,” his dragon declared. “I find our wife desirable.”

  “Me too,” Leo murmured.

  “Then we keep her.”

  “We know nothing of her origins. What if she is responsible for the tear in the barrier shielding us from the mainland?”

  “What if she isn’t, and she’s an innocent?” his dragon countered.

  “I should contact my friends on the other islands and ask if they’ve flown their boundaries recently.”

  “Yes.”

  “What if her memory returns and she remembers everything? What if she has a man?”

  “Bah! What man would let his woman travel on her own without protection? I say we wait, and meantime, we court her. Every time I gaze upon her, I yearn to taste her beautiful mouth. I ache for this. Gwenyth’s conviction will persuade everyone we can no longer become betrothed to this Nan dragon. Your parents must accept our marriage.”

  A shudder worked through Leo. He’d tried not to dwell on her, but the woman he’d named Gwenyth had worked her magic on him too. It was her appearance and her intoxicating scent of exotic herbs and a hint of flowers. Her immediate acceptance of him and his dragon. “What if my parents attempt to injure her, or worse, kill her so the betrothal can advance?”

  “We protect our mate.”

  “She is so beautiful. How could she not already belong to another?” His dragon had called her their mate, and Leo wanted this to be true.

  “She wears no ceremonial ring.”

  “No.” He could make her a ring, one fit for a woman such as her.

  “We are agreed? Treat her as our mate and use her to escape Nan, The Strongminded?”

  “Aye,” Leo said. “We can’t go to the castle. I can’t trust anyone to have my back there.”

  “We hire men to watch over her. Men who will be loyal to us, to her. We must face our parents soon before the plans go too far.”

  “True. My friends might offer help, one of the tutors at the battlegrounds. I need to contact them to ask about the magic failure anyway. My gut is uneasy with this discovery. You know what happened the last time we had open borders. The humans on the mainland tricked us, used us, killed us whenever they found us in our dragon forms. I doubt much has changed during the intervening years.”

  “Some humans accept us.”

  “We can’t risk a repeat of the massacres. Our population is only now recovering and flourishing.”

  “Leo?”

  Leo hustled into the bedroom at Gwenyth’s call.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “My dragon.”

  “He talks?”

  “I bite sassy human females,” his dragon muttered.

  “We mindspeak—our common language. Sometimes, I speak aloud because it helps me mull over weighty problems.” Leo felt his dragon stir and saw Gwenyth’s eyes widen.

  “He appears grumpy.”

  “You insulted him,” Leo said.

  “I’m sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “My lack of memory is at fault. It’s most disconcerting having a black hole insi
de my recollections.”

  “Awww,” his dragon sighed. “She’s adorable.”

  “Once you’re feeling better, we’ll visit my parents,” Leo said, his lips twitching because he’d never, ever heard his dragon utter the word adorable. The thought of the battle he must fight with his parents dampened his burst of humor.

  Gwenyth’s brows rose, and Leo sought an explanation that would answer her questions yet reveal little.

  “We’ll tell them of our marriage once we reach the castle.” Leo concealed his grimace.

  “She must hold our scent first.” His dragon’s words held relish and apparent anticipation.

  Leo’s body tightened, his mind traveling the same route as his dragon’s—touching and kissing and rutting to combine their signature scents. His fresh with her herby floral. He shook his head hard to divert his brain. He was turning as foolish as his dragon.

  “Your parents live in a castle?” she asked after a brief hesitation, a widening of her brown eyes.

  “Don’t worry. My mother and father will like you. So will my older brothers.”

  His dragon snorted so hard a puff of smoke exited Leo’s nostrils. “Keep on saying that and we might both believe it.”

  “Will your parents approve of me?” she persisted.

  “No,” Leo admitted. “But you shouldn’t worry. We’ll have little to do with them. I spend most of my time here or with friends on the neighboring isles.”

  “Oh, joy,” she murmured, her wry tone making Leo laugh. “I’ll have a fire-breathing mother-in-law.”

  “Honestly,” he said, his lips twitching yet again, “it will be fine. I will protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  “You are our mate, and we guard what is ours.” Leo made the promise, intending to stand by his words.

  She fascinated him, and he wanted her as much as his dragon. Lust. He experienced a jolt each time he took in her slender body, her brown eyes, and her shiny brown hair. Surely, an excellent start in a relationship when he and his dragon craved her so strongly. It was the stuff of the old legends his nursemaid used to tell him of drakes who discovered their true mates. He’d thought the tales just that—stories spun to fascinate young dragons and to lull their active minds to sleep.