B00CGOH3US EBOK (28 page)

She stopped, uneasy with her enthralled audience. "What?"

Kendale jumped to his feet and whisked his cloak from around his shoulders. "Come, Lady Jill, warm yourself by the fire. We would not want you to catch a chill."

How chivalrous of you.
Baelin cursed the knight's simple act of courtesy, angry that he could not do the same, but was forced to hide within the folds of his cloak to conceal what lay beneath.

He watched Kendale linger overly long as he draped the garment over her slender form and had to suppress the animalistic growl threatening to erupt from him.

Any affinity he'd begun to feel for the man disappeared. He wanted to shout at the other knight to get his hands off of her. But did he have a right? The dragon in him screamed
mine, mine, mine
. But she wasn't his. Or at least only his for the next sennight. After that, he would no longer have any claim on her.

Kendale led Lady Jill to a comfortable spot by the fire, and then sat near her. Though a respectable distance separated them, Baelin still considered him to be far too close to her.

France would be too close at this point.

Lady Jill had been correct. There was no danger lurking in the lake. As he watched the knight wield his charm like a spider weaves its web, he realized there was another sort of danger all too close. Where at first he'd feared only a risk to himself and the discovery of his secret, now he felt a greater threat. The threat was to Lady Jill.

Kendale wanted her. He could smell the lust on the man. If the knight had half the dragon sense Baelin had, he would probably smell a similar scent on him, too.

As he watched them converse with relaxed ease on the other side of the fire, Baelin wanted nothing more than to toss the other knight on his horse and see him on his way. He'd even help him pack up his supplies if he thought it would get rid of him faster.

The knight stood and bowed over Lady Jill's hand. "My lady, now that I see how refreshed you are from your bath, methinks I shall partake of the waters myself. My only regret is I must take leave of your company to do so."

"No, methinks your only regret will be when you get in the water." She pulled her hand away and tugged his cloak tighter about her. "The lake is freezing."

"Worry not for me. A bit of cool water will not harm me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

He nodded to her and then turned to the boy. "Come, Owen. Let us be off to our bath."

"Me?" Owen gulped, horrified.

"Especially you," Lady Jill said. "You're the filthiest one of us all."

Muttering under his breath, the boy collected fresh clothing and stomped off for the lake behind the knight.

Once they were gone, Baelin made his way around the fire. He looked down on Lady Jill, wrapped up in the dragonslayer's voluminous cloak, his gaze hot enough to set the garment aflame.

"Are you warm enough, my lady?"

She smiled at him, oblivious to his discontent. "Yes, thank you."

Out of the darkness came two splashes, then a loud yelp, followed by a string of curses.

Lady Jill laughed. "I told them it was cold."

"Perhaps it will cool Sir Roderick's
amour
."

"You mean his flirting? Oh, I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it."

"On the contrary, I think he means a great deal by it."

Cocking her head to the side, she batted her lashes at him. "Why, Sir Baelin. Are you jealous?"

"Of course not."

He detected a flicker in her eyes. Was it hurt or disbelief? Probably the latter, for he had a hard time believing the words he uttered himself.

Baelin took Kendale's place beside her and tossed a stick into the fire.

By the saints, how was it one slip of a woman had the power to turn him into knots? After their near embrace this morn and her playful banter this eve, he was more confused than ever. Had he detected some affection for him? Or was it wishful thinking on his part? All those years in the cave left him ill-prepared to deal with the maidens sacrificed to him. But this one… This one he wondered if even a man such as Kendale could handle.

Or could he?

"Should I be?" he asked.

"What?"

"Jealous."

Lady Jill paused in finger combing her damp hair, her penetrating gaze making him uncomfortable. "No."

"Good." And it was. He had no idea what a sense of relief it was to hear her say it until the feeling washed over him.

He plucked at the grass by his foot, unsure what next to say. Even when he'd been human, he'd not been a courtier like Kendale, easy with words to turn a lady's head. So he said the only thing a battle-hardened, dragon-knight could think of to fill the silence between them.

"Aye, 'tis good. Because 'twould not be wise to lose sight of our goal. We need no such distractions in our quest."

She chuckled. "Oh, Roderick is hardly a distrac—"

The knight chose that moment to step out of the shadows, wearing naught but his breeches. Young Owen was quick on his heels, carrying the bulk of their travel-worn clothing which, by any sense of decency, should be covering his master's half-naked body.

Kendale came to stand by the warmth of the fire. Using a cloth Owen handed him, the knight swiped at the remaining droplets of water trickling down his chest and stomach before they disappeared in the turned waist of his breeches. Then he tossed his head back, shaking the damp hair from his face like a wet wolfhound.

Now it was Lady Jill who stared.

"Preening peacock. He might as well be a woman," Baelin grumbled under his breath.

Lady Jill sighed. "Hmm…a strong, chiseled chin with just the right amount of five o'clock stubble. Caribbean blue eyes a girl could drown in. A set of washboard abs an
Abercrombie & Fitch
model would die for. Not a bad looking peacock, if I do say so myself."

Kendale caught her gaze and grinned, revealing even, white teeth. Damn the man. Even his teeth were pretty.

Lady Jill returned his smile, her cheeks flushing pink before she looked away and returned to combing her hair. The smug glance of triumph the knight sent Baelin's way did little to lighten his foul mood.

I would not be so vainglorious, my friend. If I were in my dragon form, I could eat you for dinner and you would be dragon droppings by the morrow. She would not find you so handsome and charming then.

Lady Jill jabbed him in the ribs. "Did you just growl?"

Had he made a noise? He didn't know and didn't care.

Baelin turned his pique on her and glowered.

She had the temerity to laugh at him. "Oh, come on. There's no harm in looking."

Baelin rose and stomped off toward the lake to take his own bath. The cold water would probably do him good.

"…and I fell six Turks armed with scimitars with a single log from the fire."

Somewhere behind her, Baelin grunted. It was becoming his go to reply to the multitude of the Roderick's boasts. She started counting the seconds it would take before he came up with a tale of knightly bravery to top this last one the dragonslayer had just gone on and on about.

"Only eight? Why I had not yet earned my spurs when…"

She shook her head. The male egos around here were taking on a life of their own and poor Owen was hanging on every word. First, it started out with tales of valor and bravery, each one exaggerated farther outside the realm of believability from the last. Then it moved onto demonstrations—who could hit the farthest target with an arrow, who could pound the other to a pulp in mace practice, or who could draw their sword from its sheath the fastest.

It was a medieval pissing contest if she ever saw one.

She suppressed the urge to shout at them to grow up, but knew it would do no good because obviously things hadn't changed much in the past eight centuries. Men had an innate competitive streak that wouldn't let them be outdone by another male within fifty miles and no amount of common sense was going to change that.

"This looks a good place to pass the night," Baelin announced.

"Thank God," Jill groaned as she pulled Owen's pony to a halt and slid from its back. She and the boy had started taking turns riding the sturdy animal and today had been her lucky day in the saddle. Her numb rear-end disagreed profusely while her rubbery legs nearly gave out underneath her. Would she ever get used to the non-stop riding? Her beat-up Isuzu never looked so good.

"Are you feeling poorly, my lady?" Roderick's deep voice spoke from right behind her.

She rested her forehead against the pony's sweaty flank. "Just waiting to regain the feeling in the lower half of my body."

"And a most pleasant lower half it is."

"Will you stop?"

He sighed dramatically. "I cannot seem to help myself."

She chuckled. "You are so bad."

"Aye, that I am," he said, his handsome face breaking into a heart-stopping grin. Lordy, his smile could stop traffic on Rodeo Drive. The false scowl she sent his way did little to deter him. He moved a step closer. "Care to find out how bad?" he whispered.

"No!" She shoved him away, failing to hold back her laughter at his antics as she did so.

"Is aught amiss, my lady?"

Like clockwork, Baelin was at her side. Her very own bat-winged watch dog, never allowing Roderick too much time alone with her, as if the man's very proximity was a threat to her maidenly virtue.

"No problems here. Sir Roderick was just leaving to go polish his armor or sharpen his sword or do whatever dragonslayers do when there isn't a dragon around to slay."

"I shall take my leave of you, then." Roderick bowed his head. "My lady. Gosforth."

As the knight sauntered away, Owen's tired pony in tow, Baelin glared at his back. If his eyes could spit fireballs, Roderick would be a walking torch right about now.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" Baelin turned his attention to her.

"Stop behaving like hormonal teenage boys with testosterone gone wild. You'd think I was the only woman left on Earth."

His brow furrowed as he pondered her words, then he nodded, as if comprehending the truth in them. "Until we happen upon another maid, you are—and a very beautiful one at that."

"Now don't you start. Roderick's too far away to hear us, so you don't have to waste your breath with the false flattery."

"My compliments are not false and I do not consider the words wasted, not when they bring such a becoming blush to your cheeks."

"Stop!" But Jill couldn't stop the flush as it radiating all the way down to her toes. "I'm tired of you two constantly trying to one-up each other. If it's not tales of gruesome battles, it's who has the longest sword or who can spout the most god-awful ode to my big toe. You might as well pee on every tree to stake your territory. It would be just as appealing."

"I would never dare such a thing in front of a lady," he said, affronted.

"I know you wouldn't." She blew a curl out of her face. "It's just that you've been spending so much time with Sir Flirts-a-lot, you're starting to act like him and it's driving me crazy."

"Then how would you have me act?"

"Well, for starters, how about treating me like you did before he came along?"

"Ah." He nodded in understanding, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Then you would prefer I growl at you and blow fireballs through my nose."

"No, of course not. Since he showed up, you both treat me like a prize to be won. I've seen his type. He's a player. It's all a game to him and I don't take him seriously. But with you, I'm not sure where the competitive knight ends and the real Baelin begins anymore."

"Can they not be one and the same?"

Jill took in the earnest expression on his face. He was no longer joking with her, but very serious about her answer. "No. Just like you can't be a dragon and a man. One is
what
you are on the outside and the other is
who
you are on the inside."

He shifted his gaze from her, frustration evident in the tension of his jaw. "Forgive me. I have been too long a dragon in a cave. I will strive to act more human around you in the future."

Jill took pity on him. He was trying so hard. She supposed if she were isolated from people for decades on end, she would latch onto anyone who was near, bad influence or not.

"You are a fine human being, Baelin. Believe it or not, I like you just the way you are."

At his surprised look, she left him and went to where Owen had started piling wood for their fire. She dropped to her knees and rummaged around in their dwindling supply satchel, pulling out their last loaf of rock-hard bread and some dried meat that looked as if it'd been hacked off Roderick's saddle. Though she was starving after another long day of travel, her stomach recoiled in protest. She'd just as soon never see another piece of beef jerky again as long as she lived.

She glanced up and caught Owen watching her.