Kiss of the Dragon Read online

  “If that is what you wish, my lady.” Duke Rodolfo made to stand, so far into his cups that he was willing to take on the challenge without a thought to his pride. Embarrassed that she had brought the nobleman to this pass, Bianca grabbed his hand to stop him from making a fool of himself. The duke took full advantage of the contact and held her hand in his as he whispered loudly, “Perhaps you would care to accompany me to someplace a little more private, sweet maiden. I would then be able to pay proper homage to your beauty in more secluded surroundings. I am sure that there are more lovely things about you that I could give adulation that these foolish bards have missed. I am sure, your lovely white breasts would easily fill my—”

  A shocked, embarrassed Bianca broke in to end the outrageous prattle of the libidinous Spaniard gallant.

  “It would be most improper for us to leave the hall, Your Grace.” Bianca yanked her hand out of the duke’s grasp and reached for her wine cup yet again, this time to regain her composure after being so thoroughly, tactlessly propositioned. Never had she come across a suitor so full of himself, caring little for convention. He actually expected that Bianca would agree to accompany him to the nearest darkened, secluded corner and allow him to lift her skirts for his pleasure. Though she was shocked at the turn of events this evening, Bianca feared that this would not be the last time she would have to fend off such lewd behavior. For this reason, she would double her efforts to gain Lord Draco’s attention.

  The warm touch of Lord Draco’s fingers over hers as they both reached for the wine cup that sat between them was barely a whisper of a caress, a mistake, she was sure. But it thrilled her nevertheless. Just having this great warrior sitting beside her gave her the strength to stay for the entire meal.

  Bianca found herself looking into the dark, warm eyes of Lord Draco for the first time since the meal began and with his gaze solely on her, everyone around her faded away and only the two of them existed for that moment in their own small world. But as quickly as that feeling of contentment spilled over her, warming her, soothing her, it vanished. In its stead came the unmistakable sounds of tinkling bells and the thrumming drum beat filled the hall followed by scantily clad women and brilliantly dressed men who flowed into the hall and began to dance. Gypsies had arrived and with them, a cold panic washed over Bianca, freezing her in place with fear.

  Draco watched the change in the lovely young woman at his side and wondered at it. Fear seemed to swallow Bianca up and all color washed from her face, leaving large, haunted eyes staring through him. And then she shook herself out of her temporary daze and turned to look upon the entertainers who filled the hall. Her fear was so palpable that he knew it was no dream, but in the next moment, she looked calm and collected.

  Thinking that perhaps he had been mistaken, that perhaps his instincts were wrong, he reached out and tipped her chin slightly so that she was forced to look him in the eye. There he saw the truth. Her deep violet eyes held dark panic and anxiety even as she sat deathly still and stared out at the performers who filled the hall with loud, boisterous music and laughter.

  A dark scowl covered his face as Draco turned his attention to the weakling duke sitting beside Bianca. Something was wrong here and he wanted to know what the gallant had done to offend Bianca. He heard every word of their conversation as the meal had proceeded and as far as he could discern Bianca seemed to be holding her own against the overzealous, over-amorous Spaniard, but he perhaps he had missed something.

  “Santa Maria! The Duke de Neige has an eye for good entertainment.” Duke Rodolfo’s hoarse exclamation could be heard down the table where his two sisters sat staring at the exposition of exotic dancers, jugglers and musicians that moved around the guests. Their shocked eyes flew to their brother and they blushed at his open appraisal of exposed flesh and sinful dancing.

  Draco frowned fiercely at the Spanish duke for his contemptible behavior, trying to catch his eye, but the man was too enthralled staring at the gypsy dancers to heed him. Draco would get no explanation as to Bianca’s change of attitude from that quarter. Duke Rodolfo was suddenly much too preoccupied with his own immediate gratification to give another thought to coax an unwilling innocent into a darkened corner to ease his lust. Before him was a bevy of willing partners in eroticism.

  “What is it that troubles you, Bianca?” Draco spoke in hushed tones so that nobody else at the table could overhear them. She blinked twice. She had been staring blindly at the entertainers in the middle of the hall, seeing none of it.

  At his voice, Bianca turned her head to look at the large, darkly handsome man at her side. She was startled to find him so attuned to her feelings. Even so, she had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not heard his question. So Draco repeated himself.

  “Forgive me for being so inattentive, my lord. I am not quite myself.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she raised her hand and placed her fingers over his lips. Surprised at her own actions in a public place, she jerked her hand back and dropped her gaze, missing his slight smile and then frowned at her next words. “It is nothing, really, Lord Draco. I was but reminded of a dark dream that sometimes troubles me at night.”

  “Ah, I thought all fair young maidens dreamed of a white knight in shining armor coming to rescue her from dark demons. It is not so with you?”

  “I regret to say that I have no such dreams, my lord. Mine are dark and gruesome; nightmares in which there is no hero, only specters to be feared. In truth, it is not a prince that I seek, nor would I want such a man.” Fearing that she might scare him away if she told him what it was she truly needed to keep the horrors away, not wanting him to delve too deeply into her private fears, Bianca decided to turn the subject.

  “Do you not find the gypsy dancers fascinating? My father invites them every year to perform for his guests. He has a certain fondness for this particular Rom band.”

  “They are very colorful,” Draco replied noncommittally as he glanced around. In truth, he was not paying much attention to the entertainers. His focus had been solely on Bianca. He had run the gamut of emotions this evening, starting with a burning anger toward the Spanish noble who dared to even think he was good enough for the sweet, innocent Bianca. He was furious that she spoke to the little worm. Earlier he had suppressed his laughter at her obvious sarcasm to the Spanish duke and the indifference she showed to all his flattery and that of every bard singing her praises or the soulful eyed swain who had come to court her. When he realized that she held herself above it all he had settled back to be amused. And finally, he felt relieved that Lady Bianca de Neige was not one bit interested in His Grace, Rodolfo, Duke Del Jara of Spain. It was then that he realized she had, in fact, been endeavoring to make him jealous throughout the whole evening and, woefully for him, had given up.

  If Draco were totally honest, he would admit that after watching every man in the hall following Bianca with his lustful gaze, he was nearly crazed with jealousy. He knew deep down that he had no right to such feelings, but his heart refused to listen to his logical mind on this matter.

  “I think you have lost your Spaniard to that gypsy girl.”

  Turning at his words, Bianca blushed at the sight before her. Duke Rodolfo embraced one of the more scantily clad gypsy women and he had his hands on her full, lush breasts, squeezing them in fascination. And then to her horror he lowered his head and began to kiss her bared flesh. The sultry beauty squealed when his face disappeared into the cleavage between her full white breasts. Before her shocked eyes, the Spanish nobleman moved his hands to her thighs and he attempted to raise her skirts. A slap on his wrist stopped him momentarily as he glanced around, remembering where they were.

  “Come, my little gypsy, I want you all to myself.” He latched on to her slender wrist and dragged the protesting wench into the shadows at the back of the hall and disappeared up the back stairs toward his rooms.

  “What a pity.” Bianca’s sigh of resignation was loud and feigned. “And he was at the front
of the pack of contenders for my hand. I really had high hopes for that one. Ah well, que sera, sera.” Her refreshingly bold laughter startled Draco. He looked at the lady and was surprised that she was not insulted by the behavior of the Spaniard or his obvious lust. His lips twitched in mirth and then he let out a bellow of laughter.

  “Have you been besieged by many such crass suitors?” Draco finally calmed his robust laughter long enough to ask. His dark eyes took on a suddenly intense look that wiped the smile from her lips.

  “He is an example of the usual type of scoundrel who has shown up these last few weeks seeking my hand. You see now why I am not all that responsive to my stepmother’s active pursuit to find a suitable match for a husband.”

  “Yea, I can see that you have a problem.” He became quiet as he watched the gypsies whirl about the hall entertaining the crowd. After a few moments, he turned and looked down at her. “What you need is a matchmaker, my lady.”

  “A matchmaker?”

  “Yea. You need somebody who has the ability to muck out the undesirables and recognize only the true contenders for your hand.” He signaled the page to bring forward his offering and partook of the dessert being served, giving Bianca a berry pastry before choosing one for himself.

  They munched their treat in companionable silence while Bianca’s mind worked furiously for a solution to her dilemma. But it was the baron’s suggestion that sparked a brilliant inspiration in her head. It was a truly exceptional notion and she had him to thank for giving it to her.

  “I have taken your fine suggestion under consideration and I have decided that you are right, Lord Draco.”

  Pleased with her compliment, Draco was congratulating himself for his intelligence when her next words nearly knocked him over.

  “I think you would be the perfect one for such a task, my lord. By your own words, you could protect me by mucking out the rabble. You would be helping me to choose a fine husband from the cream of the crop. Yea, it is a grand notion.”

  “No, Bianca. I cannot be your matchmaker!”

  “Oh, but you must. It is your scheme after all and I know that it will work. Trust me, Lord Draco.”

  “But I have no concept of what kind of husband you are looking for. I would do you no good in the capacity as your matchmaker.”

  “But you would be perfect at it. All you need do is whisper in my ear your thoughts on any suitor who comes seeking my hand. You would be protecting me from any inappropriate advances as well.”

  “Men have attempted to assault you before? Did you tell your father this?” Draco’s ire rose at the thought of any other man touching her. The knowledge of his own actions did not seem to bother him. He would run his sword through any gallant who dared come within two arm-lengths of Bianca.

  But then he remembered his resolution to leave with the new dawn and told himself that it was none of his concern that she would eventually wed. He would be gone and Bianca would go on with the task of finding a husband. But the image of a sordid horse’s ass like Duke Rodolfo, who had the audacity to openly proposition Bianca at the dining table kept Draco from refusing her request.

  “So far, I have managed to fend them off on my own, but with you by my side, they would not even attempt anything untoward with my person, I would wager it.”

  “I could assure you, Bianca, they would not even get close enough to try.”

  “Good! Then it is settled. I will bid you a good evening, and I expect to see you in the morning. Until then, Lord Draco, sleep well.”

  She was gone before Draco could stop her. A wry smile twisted his mouth, making his scar stand out more prominently. He found that he did not dread the prospect of spending time with Bianca. He supposed he would have to postpone his departure for a few days at least. At the rate her suitors were arriving daily and taking into consideration the famed beauty of the lady in question, he figured he could find her a suitable husband by week’s end.

  “I wonder if I will be able to give her up to another man,” he murmured under his breath as he accepted another cup of wine.

  Modesta rose to her feet to follow her cousin from the hall, but Bianca motioned her to sit and finish her meal. She seemed to be having a splendid time in Lord Charles’ company and it warmed Bianca’s heart to know that her cousin may have finally found a caring, thoughtful man who seemed genuinely interested in her. If all went as planned, Bianca would also have a splendid husband in the person of Lord Draco d’Ensoleille.

  “Bianca, dearest, I noticed that you have been enjoying the company of His Grace. Is it too early to tell your father you have chosen a future husband?”

  Duchess Heloise must have been lurking in the shadows near the staircase. She caught Bianca completely off guard as she made her way from the hall. She thought furiously for a polite way of telling her stepmother that the duke was an appalling disappointment and she would not care if she ever saw the man again.

  “I am afraid, Duchess, that the Spanish duke and I have nothing in common. I would never satisfy such a great man.” The last was said with open sarcasm but Bianca did not care if her stepmother noticed.

  “Oh come. Surely, you have not given him the opportunity to prove himself. He only just arrived this afternoon. Why some of the best catches out there are just diamonds in the rough. You cannot judge a man solely on first impressions.”

  Bianca could not help but agree with her opinion of diamonds, but she was not thinking of the Spaniard. She had a darker, more perplexing individual in mind and she was unaware until it was too late that she had agreed to let Duke Rodolfo stay for a few more days.

  “You have made an excellent decision, Bianca. His Grace will make an excellent husband for you. He is very rich and looking to marry a young wife to give him sons.”

  “Do not misunderstand me, stepmother. I have made no choice as of yet. Maybe in a few days I will be able to give my father an answer, but not just yet. I need time.”

  Trying to ease by the stalwart matron was not an easy task and Bianca was forced to stay and endure more of the older woman’s commentary.

  “Are you going to retire so early, my dear?”

  “Yea, stepmother. I am weary and I thought to have an early night.”

  “But I thought with the entertainment your father thoughtfully provided, you would be comfortable in your milieu.” The sly smirk on Duchess Heloise’s painted face showed Bianca that her stepmother meant to hurt her by the remark.

  A strained smile touched her lips as Bianca replied, “Why would I be enthralled by a mere band of Rom? Perhaps you should debate the matter with my father. I am certain that he will disagree with my opinion. He seems to be enjoying himself if you had not noticed.”

  The loud gasp of outrage that whooshed from the older woman echoed off the stone walls of the long corridor. It was evident that Heloise had not expected to have her own venomous remarks turned back on her with such civility. Her husband’s association with the band of gypsies was a very sensitive area in her relationship with him and she did not need this little chit reminding her of it. In her clumsy endeavor to use Bianca’s fear of the Rom as a convenient weapon, she had over looked the obvious. Heloise’s latest attempt at cruelty had backfired. Not even bothering to excuse herself, she turned on her heels and flounced away, making her way toward the head table and her husband.

  For a moment Bianca felt a bit guilty that her father would have to listen to Heloise’s insecurities, but then she reasoned that he was the one who married the woman. Let him deal with her bitter carping.

  It was bad enough that Bianca had not yet overcome her uncommon fear of Rom, but knowing that she had gypsy blood in her cut like a knife. Her dear, sweet mother had come from this band of Rom and to feel such fear of her own people, made Bianca feel like a traitor to her mother’s memory.

  With a sadness of heart, Bianca made her way up to her tower chamber, where she went to sit at her small writing desk, a small, solitary figure. She shivered as she opened the precio
us well of ink and picked up a long, sharpened quill. What she wished for above all else was to be held in the warm embrace of a certain magnificent warlord. It was the memory of their time together in his chambers that inspired her writing this night. With all her emotion running high, her quill glided across the parchment and her story built on itself until she had covered several pages. Her hopes and dreams came alive with the story of a magnificent knight in shining armor who rescued his ladylove from the horrible fire-breathing beast and in the end pledged his undying love for her, before carrying her away on his mighty black stallion to live happily ever after.

  When her candle had burned down to a nub and began to sputter, Bianca doused it and climbed into her cold, empty bed. As she lay in the dark, her mind was filled with thoughts of the man who was so close and yet so far away from being exactly what she had dreamed of her whole life. A deep craving for someone to love and cherish her filled her with such anguish that she could actually feel pain in her chest as if her heart were breaking. Tears squeezed their way from the corners of her closed eyes and trailed down her cheeks, as she lay alone in her bed. She took a deep, shuddering breath and turned on her side, determined to lose herself in sleep. Her last conscious thought was a prayer asking for the morrow to dawn bringing a better, brighter day.

  Chapter Six

  It took most of the morning for Bianca to catch up to Lord Draco. Although she did not think that he deliberately hid from her, it seemed that he had numerous duties that kept him always a few steps ahead of her. As she searched the castle, then the courtyard and the bailey, she found to her consternation that, though he had been in each place, she managed to miss him by just moments.

  It was Sir Renaldo who pointed her in the direction of the stables. He assured her that Lord Draco had gone in that direction to check on the care of his famous war horse, Inferno. It was not until after he had confided this information to her that the good knight realized his error. He had no notion that the lady intended to follow the warlord to the stables without an escort until she thanked him and turned to walk across the bailey in that direction. Sir Renaldo tried to use his usually glib tongue to dissuade her. But when he realized he was not going to change her mind, he came right out and suggested it might be in her best interest to find her way to the Lady’s Garden. There she could visit with the rest of the fair young ladies this morning. But she stubbornly ignored his suggestion and scooted around him to walk swiftly away, pretending that she could not hear him calling after her.