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“Morning, Red.”
The man’s voice was so deep, his overused, outdated greeting so easy and familiar that, for the first time in her life, Caitlin felt her face flush with embarrassment. “Where am I?”
“According to your directions, you’re home. If not, then we’ve invaded someone else’s privacy for the last three days.”
“Three days? What have I been doing?”
“If you don’t know, then I haven’t given it my all.” He sighed, then chuckled softly and drew a fingertip down her spine. “Feeding.”
For three days? She was in bed with a man who possessed the chiseled body and face of a Greek god and she couldn’t remember the feel of his body on, or in, hers?
“Who are you?”
“Ladies first.”
“Caitlin St. George.”
The man froze, his eyes widening for a split second before he moved away from her and shifted into the form of a smoky dragon before disappearing.
DENISE LYNN, an award-winning author, lives in the USA with her husband, son and numerous four-legged “kids.” Between the pages of romance novels she has traveled to lands and times filled with brave knights, courageous ladies and never-ending love. Now she can share with others her dream of telling tales of adventure and romance. You can write to her at PO Box 17, Monclova, OH 43542, USA, or visit her website, www.denise-lynn.com.
Dragon’s Promise
Denise Lynn
MILLS & BOON
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Braeden was for Brenda, Cameron for Cheryl…
And for my sister Sandy, I grant you Sean, along with all of his passion and his magick.
With much love, always.
Contents
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Ancient castle ruins on the east coast of Ireland—October 3. Two years ago
Candlelight flickered in the drafty cell, casting eerily dancing shadows on the wall behind the altar. Pacing before the altar, Nathan the Learned paused to stare into the undulating flames, before gazing down into a crystal bowl. The water filling the bowl had been blessed by the light of a full moon to lend more power to his scrying.
He scried not for hints of what the future held, because he knew that once his deeds this night were completed, his future would be secure. Instead, he wanted to see the past. Not just a hazy memory of days gone by, but a clear reckoning of what had brought him to this long-sought-after moment of greatness.
With one hand on the head of the naked, bound woman kneeling at his feet, he waved the other over the bowl. The water rippled outward from the center, as if disturbed by a falling pebble.
A wavering image of a medieval castle appeared. Mirabilus. The medieval stronghold where it all began so very long ago. The water stilled, permitting the reflection to become clearer. A cold breeze, not unlike the one he’d felt that fateful night, brushed across his cheek. The shape of an amethyst dragon formed over the image of the castle. It wavered as if trying to take flight and then it cracked, splintering into a million pieces, just as it had that fateful night. He then saw himself as a child hiding within the darkness of a curtained alcove as the High Druid, his uncle Aelthed, killed his own brother—Nathan’s father. The terror of the child flowed into the man he’d become, settling cold in his belly. He had vowed revenge that night and would soon taste the victory he’d craved for so long.
The image of childhood faded, permitting a new one to appear. Again Nathan saw himself, this time a man full grown, leaning over the High Druid Aelthed as he lay gasping his last breaths upon his bed. He cared not that the wizard suffered in his final moments. The man deserved whatever pain and agony plagued him—not just for killing Nathan’s father, but for also seeing to it that he had been laid to rest in an unhallowed grave, unable to ever attain life after death. Worse, when the time had come for Nathan to be named Dragon Lord of Mirabilus, the honor had