Dragon Hunts (4 page)

He took my hand and kissed it like a true gentleman. My heart fluttered. I felt like a princess.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told me. “Love your dress. It suits you very well.”

“Thank you.” My sleeveless, mid-calf dress had come from a clearance rack at Target. But hey, if Declan said I was beautiful, who was I to object, right?

He led me to the table and pulled out the chair for me. I settled in like a baroness. A waiter poured water into the crystal glasses. Another came in with a golden bottle buried in an ice bucket. He showed Declan the bottle’s label. Declan gave his approval. It was Louis Roederer 2004 Cristal Brut. The sommelier uncorked the champagne and poured it into tall, fluted glasses.

We toasted. I sipped the drink. The light amber liquid caressed my tongue like a long-lost lover, leaving an explosion of flavours, rich and dense with strong hints of sumptuous fruits. I didn’t have to guess that this shit must have cost a lot of money.

“Good evening, sir and madam. My name is Nyoman and I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Shall we start you with the appetisers?”

“Please,” Declan said.

“Excellent, sir.”

The chef and his sous-chef beamed at us and got busy with their knives. Five feet from our table, a long, rectangular butcher-block island had been converted into a portable kitchen. The pan sizzled with hot oil. Sharp blades flashed and chopped. The smell of shallots caramelised in olive oil wafted through the air. I craned my neck to see the magic being performed by professional chefs. I’d been used to eating microwaved food. I’d never had real chefs cook especially for me, in my presence.

They worked fast. I’d barely finished my champagne before the appetiser arrived. Nyoman brought beautiful dishes to our table. The food was almost too pretty to eat. Declan motioned for me to take a bite while Nyoman eloquently explained what was on our plates—toasted baguettes topped with thinly sliced seared bluefin tuna and shaved chives, drizzled with olive oil and the chef’s special butter sage and shallot vinaigrette.

Goodness. The tuna crostini were out of this world. The delicate taste of the bluefin nicely complemented the salty-crispiness of the baguette.

“I’ve never tasted anything this good.” I savoured the crostini to the last morsels. “I hope you won’t mind, but I’m going to be unladylike and totally pig out.”

It brought a small chuckle from Declan. “This is one of the many things I love about you. You’re unlike other women, who pretend to be something they aren’t just to impress their date.”

“You mean you like a fat gal who can’t resist the allure of good food?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Fat is such an ugly word. A real woman has curves and I like my women lush. There’s no fun in fucking skin and bones.”

I almost choked on my champagne.

Nyoman glided over to us. “Are we ready for the next course?”

“Yes, we are.” Declan let Nyoman clear the plates. “Compliments to the chef.”

The tuna crostini was one out of five courses of the ultra-romantic dinner Declan had arranged. Two more bottles of expensive wine filled in between the courses and by the time Nyoman announced it was time for dessert, I was tipsy.

“I think you’ve had enough drink.” Declan took away my glass and motioned for the waiter to bring me water instead. “I don’t want you to get drunk. The night is young and I still have plans.”

“Oh? What plans?”

“You’ll see.” Declan cast me an all-knowing, devilish-looking smirk. “Ah, here we go, dessert.”

Nyoman put a white, square plate before me. On it was a small sculpture of highly intricate sugar art perched on a brown rectangular cake. The plate was garnished with red and orange sauce, painstakingly drizzled as if the chef had been painting his masterpiece.

“Here we have black sesame pain de genes, paired with a sour cherry crème and praline tower, highlighted with cherry and passion fruit reduction,” Nyoman explained. “Enjoy.”

I didn’t know what the hell Nyoman was saying, but the whole thing tasted so damn good. I didn’t utter a word while I demolished the dessert. I would have licked the plate if I hadn’t thought it would embarrass Declan. Some other time, maybe.

“I finished my plate. Did I do good?” I teased Declan.

“Such a good girl. You deserve a prize.”

I grinned. “What kind of prize?”

“Hush, curious cat. Later.”

We moved to the other side of the patio, sitting near the pool while the staff cleared up the after-dinner mess. We were served coffee—no more booze—as we lounged on rattan daybeds under the clear night sky. As the last of the staff dismantled the table and hauled everything away, Declan got up and talked to Nyoman. He signed something and tipped him and the others.

Silence blanketed us as Nyoman quietly withdrew from the patio. Declan turned to me. His smile was ever so wicked. My heart quickened with a thrill. Declan never failed to do that to me each time he looked at me.

Standing almost seven feet tall, Declan looked like a young god of Asgard. His fair hair was cut very short and clean. I always saw him in immaculately formal suits so it was refreshing to see him dress casually. Tonight he was wrapped in a white cotton shirt and a pair of khakis. Very sexy. Of course, he could be clad in rags and still look breathtaking.

Declan took his smart phone out of his pocket and selected some music. Soft jazz tunes filled the air. Not too loud, but serenading intimately for us. He held out a hand to me. I got up from the daybed and went to him.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. He was such a gentleman.

He curled an arm around my waist and we danced cheek to cheek under the moonlight. For the first time since I’d met Lorenzo, I felt young again and carefree. All my worries melted away. I felt protected and secure. Cherished and loved. I’d never had a man do so much nor go to these lengths just to be with me. I felt flattered. Wanted. Worthy. My chest constricted with a thousand silent emotions.

Declan stroked my cheek with such tenderness. “Do you know, in our family we mate for life?”

“Your family doesn’t believe in divorce?”

“Divorce is an unknown word. An unacceptable concept. A Cairne man chooses his woman carefully. Once he soul bonds with her, they are inseparable till death do them part.”

I wanted to say ‘No shit’, but that would have ruined the mood. So I settled for something neutral. “Really?” I found his statement rather odd, with the ‘soul bonding’ and the ‘till death do us part’ thing. Maybe I’d had too much to drink. But who would do that in this day and age? Everybody I knew had either gone through a divorce or changed spouses like they changed underwear.

Falling in love was easy. Staying in love was hard.

“When I first saw you walking through my office door,” Declan continued, “I knew you were the one.”

“That was just your cock doing the thinking,” I joked.

“Maybe.” His lips quirked into a grin. The arm on my waist tightened. “But I’m a man who knows what I want.”

“How did you know? That sounded so clichéd.”

“Because I’m a Cairne and that’s how is it is done in our family.”

“Your parents, too?”

“Yes.”

“Your uncles, aunts, nephews and nieces?”

“Cairnes always sire boys. Our line has been unbroken for seventeen generations.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Always boys?”

“Always boys. One mate for life.”

I was dizzy. I blamed it on the champagne.

“I know you don’t entirely believe what I’ve just said. Trust me. You’re the only woman I wanted. Not because of the way you looked—though I found you incredibly sexy. But because you’re you. You’re gentle, sweet, nurturing and humble. You aren’t vain like other women I’ve met. You always put your family before yourself. You’re someone I could picture myself settling down with for the rest of my life.”

Whoa. Has this just happened or is it a hallucination from the booze?

“I love you, Jessica. And I love Bobby, too. If you give me a chance, I would love to be part of your lives. Be part of your future.”

I shook off my trance. Yep. It must be a hallucination from too much alcohol. Men never considered me sweet or sexy. Fuckable—yes. They were more into the size of my breasts than my personality. As for my son, most men looked at Bobby as a burden. No single man wanted to commit to a struggling mother and her bastard son. And when Lorenzo had come back into our lives, he’d always belittled me and condescended to me about every little thing I did. For years, he’d had me believing that I was as worthless as he made me out to be.

I blinked. This must be a joke right? Declan’s joke? To get into my pants? But I was willing anyway, without him having to do all this.

“Jessie.” Declan stopped abruptly.

I accidentally stepped on his foot.

He tugged my face up, searching my eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

I didn’t know what to say. What he had confided to me sounded too good to be true.

“I’m a patient man, Jessica. I’m sure you’ll be willing to accept me sooner or later.”

He lowered his head and kissed me. It was as sweet and tender as his words. With each stroke of his tongue, I found myself melting in his arms until I was nothing but a puddle of goo. He held me when my knees suddenly became too weak for me to stand on my own.

“Wow.” I unconsciously touched my lips. “Am I dreaming?”

“I assure you you’re not.”

He kissed me again while his hand strayed to my back. I heard an unzipping sound. My dress slid to my waist.

“Outside? Are you nuts?”

“Who’s going to see us?” Declan looked deliciously wicked. “I picked this place because it’s private.”

“I’m not that adventurous.”

“You just don’t know it yet, babe.” He pulled down the rest of my dress. It pooled around my ankles. “I’ll get you inside”—his eyes skated towards the large bed in the villa—“later.”

Declan removed my bra. My panties met the same fate. “You want to christen every room in the villa, do you?”

He laughed. “We’ll start with the pool. Have you ever skinny-dipped before?”

“I told you—I’m not that adventurous.”

“Then I shall teach you to become so.”

I felt awkward standing on the patio in my birthday suit, so I slipped off my shoes and jumped into the pool while Declan started to undress. The water splashed. The temperature of the pool was perfect for a night swim. When I floated to the surface, I saw a flash of leathery wings at the corner of my vision. I rubbed my eyes. Declan was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t be in the villa. He’d been there just a moment ago. His clothes were scattered by the poolside. Declan was gone.

I jumped when something brushed against my back. A pair of strong arms wrapped me in an embrace. It was Declan. He nuzzled the shell of my ear and nipped on my earlobe.

“Gotcha,” he whispered.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what? My Houdini trick?”

“Yeah. How did you disappear like that?”

“A good magician never tells his secrets.”

Declan swam to the edge, dragging me along with him. He propped me against the wall and enclosed me in his arms against his hard, perfect body. I gasped. I could feel his cock hardening on my belly. I instinctively grabbed it. He was as enormous as I remembered. His length was alarming. He hissed as I squeezed him. His thick cock pulsed in spasms.

“Christ.” A low groan curled out of his masculine throat. “Harder.” His plea was a combination of a gasp and a demand.

With both hands, I clasped his shaft and massaged his erection upwards. Declan started to pant, murmuring in a low voice, urging me to stroke him harder and faster. I was only too happy to oblige him. My nipples pebbled at his reaction. My pussy clenched and thrummed. Heat pulsed, lulling me into burning desire. I wanted to be filled. To be fucked.

To be loved.

Declan licked my lips. The tip of his tongue traced the inner line of my mouth. I nibbled him back. We kissed as the lust branded us both, scorching. I felt like I was going to faint. Each stroke of his tongue was treacherously dangerous, pulling me into a deeper, madder need.

He kneaded my breasts as he swept his tongue over the roof of my mouth, marking everything as his. All rational thought evaporated from my alcohol-laden brain. My primal instincts took over. All I knew was that I needed this man as badly as I needed my next breath.

Declan broke the kiss. He kissed the side of my jaw. My neck. He bit me, marking my flesh as his. I shivered. Each nick and suck sent exquisite pleasure straight down to my pussy.

“Declan…”

“Mmm?”

I gulped hard. “Please…”

“Please what?” His tone was controlled and precise.

I’d never begged any man to take me. I wasn’t usually big on sex and had rarely reached an orgasm at the hands of any man I’d slept with. But Declan had changed that. His touch seared my lust. His kiss burnt my sanity to cinders.

“Please, fuck me.” My face heated with embarrassment as I uttered my plea.