Page 4 of Love of Dragons (Dragon Tails #10)

“If you don't believe in dragons/ It is curiously true/ That the dragons you disparage/ Choose to not believe in you.”

—Jack Prelutsky

“I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Winters. There was a mix up in your booking. Your original room block is no longer available,” the receptionist at the hotel was telling Lizzy as she stared bleary-eyed at the woman, trying to absorb what she was saying.

“Oh,” was all Lizzy could utter.

She was too exhausted to express more. If she had to wait for a shower and a room, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She’d roughed it in much tougher environments before. But she would like to lie down somewhere and blackout for a few hours. She never traveled long-distances well (a handicap in her field). She was hungry too, but that wasn’t the priority right now.

“I do have a deluxe suite available right now. It’s the only room left unfortunately,” the woman informed her.

“Would you be amenable to that? It has a King-sized bed, a separate living room and its own balcony that overlooks the river.”

Lizzy perked up a little.

“Of course. That would be great,” she hurried to say.

“That will be an extra $500 per night.”

“$500!” Lizzy squeaked.

And on top of the normal room charge? That would be an additional $2,500 over the five nights of the conference. What kind of luxury royal suite was this?

“If you would provide me your credit card for the additional charge, I can complete the deposit transaction.”

Lizzy didn’t have that kind of money just lying around. She could always charge it, of course, but her mother had drilled into her from an early age that she should never get in debt until she could afford to pay it off with absolute predictability, and only if it was worth the delay versus paying all up front.

Serena was Taiwanese, after all. East Asians, in general, were raised to save not to spend, and certainly not to stack up debt and interest and live beyond their means.

Nor would Lizzy choose to spend her money on this type of needless luxury if she did have it at her disposal. She was frugal by nature and needed only basic things. She liked to save her money to spend on her parents and friends. The only splurge thus far was her ragdolls, but in that case she was expanding her own little family and giving those beautiful felines a comfortable, loving home.

She could apply for the conference organizers to cover the cost, but they probably wouldn’t. Archeology wasn’t exactly a well-funded field versus some others. The fact that the attendees were booked at the Quarter Chaophraya was already a splurge by the committee.

But she was also exhausted and didn’t want to hop back in a cab to go to another hotel. There were a lot of events going on at the same time in Bangkok, and most of the hotels were sold out.

“Miss? What would you like to do? I have a waiting list on this room.”

Lizzy pushed the hair off her face, pulling a little at the root to wake herself up.

If she didn’t fork over her credit card in the next five seconds, the choice would be made for her. Maybe she could just do one night and tide herself over until tomorrow when she could hunt down another hotel. Or—

“Allow me to cover the extra fees on behalf of Dr. Winters,” someone said from behind Lizzy.

She whirled around at her savior in surprise.

And did a double take.

He was a gorgeous Asian man, tall and lean, with long black hair pulled into a low ponytail at the nape. He was so striking, movie stars would look like ogres next to him. His features seemed to be cut with diamond precision.

His eyes were a very dark brown, all but black. And maybe Lizzy was being too fanciful and awestruck, but they seemed to glow.

She realized that he’d called her “Dr. Winters.” Did he know her? She certainly would have remembered him if they’d ever met.

“Um…I…”

He was already reaching over her to hand the receptionist his card. The woman efficiently completed the transaction.

While she did so, the stranger held out his hand to Lizzy.

“Jing Bai, at your service. I am the Asia head of the conference committee. It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Dr. Winters. And very glad to see you’ve arrived safely.”

As she shook his hand in a daze, she absorbed the fact that he had a strong, solid handshake, which her father always said was a measure of a man’s mettle.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Bai,” she said belatedly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He held her hand for a couple moments longer than required, and when he let go, he seemed reluctant to do so. All the while, he stared at her with those hypnotic dark eyes.

She was strangely reminded of a mouse before a cobra.

But that was a poor analogy, surely. With all kinds of negative connotations that wasn’t fair to the gallant committee head.

“And thank you for taking care of that,” Lizzy added. “I’m very grateful.”

She probably should have offered to find another hotel, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to do it.

“Please, call me Jing,” he smiled warmly at her. “I hope to get to know you…much better over the duration of this event.”

Lizzy blinked at him, squinting a little.

Maybe something was broken inside her. Some chemistry chip. Because she was relatively certain that any other woman (or man, for that matter) would have melted at Mr. Bai’s feet already in a charmed, fawning puddle of goo. He was extraordinarily attractive and charismatic. She could objectively see this. And bonus points—he worked in her profession!

But Lizzy wasn’t even microscopically attracted.

She smiled politely back at him without acknowledging his invitation to more intimate interactions, then turned back to the receptionist to listen to her instructions about the hotel’s amenities and to receive the key cards to her room.

Mr. Bai was still there when she turned back around.

Hmm. How to extract herself without being rude?

“Well, thank you again for helping me with the accommodations,” she said. “See you around during the conference.”

He cocked his head a little, his gaze unblinkingly intense. As if he couldn’t quite figure her out.

He probably never met anyone who was immune to his draw, she supposed.

“Of course, Dr. Winters. Rest well.”

He inclined his head gracefully in a nod that was sort of a bow. Lizzy felt the urge to curtsy in response.

She stopped just short of it, though she bent her knees in a little dip.

Honestly, the man gave her the vibe of some foreign dignitary or royalty. She was definitely in the presence of someone important, who wielded a lot of wealth and power.

Trying not to hurry, she walked briskly to the elevators to go up to her room. Without looking back, she knew he was watching her. She couldn’t help but shiver at the impact of his dark, penetrating gaze.

When she got to her suite, she was suddenly rocked with a wave of dizziness. Everything seemed to shift and double before her eyes. She thought it might be the exhaustion (she inherited her mother’s vertigo, which was why she didn’t travel well sometimes), but it was more than that.

She felt like she’d been here before.

In particular, she’d stayed at this suite before. On this particular floor, in this particular hotel.

She looked at the door of the suite right next to hers. It looked somehow familiar, despite being just another door in this long hallway. But the numbers on both her door and her neighbor’s door resonated somehow.

How could that be? She’d never been to Bangkok, Thailand.

With equal parts wariness and anticipation, she opened her door.

The room was beautifully appointed, no luxury spared. The stack of thick embossed stationery on the marble-inlaid desk probably cost more than all of the contents in her purse just by itself.

She ran her fingertips over the slightly rough paper. Why did it feel so familiar? As if she knew what it felt like to write on it with a ballpoint pen. Maybe even the same expensive looking hotel pen right next to the sheafs of paper.

The bed looked achingly familiar, even if it wasn’t quite the same. It was where she expected it to be, and she could almost swear she knew what it felt like to sink into it.

By herself and in the arms of another. Entangled and locked together.

Goodness, she must really be in need of rest. She was clearly starting to hallucinate, maybe conflating the more erotic dreams she’d had with her staid, sexless reality. It was probably the exotic lushness of her surroundings.

Without further ado, Lizzy stripped off her travel clothes, showered quickly, pulled on an over-sized, well-worn T-shirt and cotton underwear and dove into the cloud-like, thickly cushioned bed.

She fell asleep within seconds, dead to the world.

Lizzy sat at the edge of a jutting rock platform at the mouth of a large cavern on a mountain peak so tall, she couldn’t see what lay beneath given the sea of clouds that surrounded her.

Other mountain peaks rose above the clouds like snow-capped islands. There were no other creatures up here; the only sound was the whistling of the wind.

A part of her wondered whether this was what the world looked like at the dawn of its creation. Everything looked so pristine and untouched. The air was bracing and crisp, and somehow far fresher than any air she’d ever breathed. Even the snow was blindingly bright, as if not even a single speck of dust was mixed within.

He emerged from the cave and came to sit beside her, close enough that she was comforted by his body heat, yet he didn’t touch her in any way.

Oh, how she wished he would touch her. But this was not one of those dreams.

Yet.

“I feel like I know this place, this age,” she murmured.

They always spoke as if they were in the middle of an ongoing conversation. As if this was her reality and the waking world was her dream.

“You do,” he said.

“You helped create it long ago.”

“And you?” she asked without looking his way.

She felt an almost irresistible compulsion to look at him, but she always restrained herself. Because whenever she tried to see his face and body, anything defining about him, the dream ended.

She didn’t ever want these dreams to end if he was in them.

“I was with you almost from the beginning,” he answered.

They’d talked of this before, but she wanted to hear his confirmations again and again. As if that made their bond more real, even in the dreamworld.

“Your magic created me, and my desire to be yours made me stay.”

She was silent for a while, absorbing his words, finding solace in them. Knowing, even unconsciously, that she was alone in the real world.

Without him.

“Why me?” she asked.

She always asked.

Because some part of her knew, deep down, that she hadn’t deserved his devotion. His unwavering trust and unconditional love. Strangely, despite the cruelty and selfishness she somehow knew she used to possess once upon a time, she’d loved him too, in her own way. Expressed inadequately or not expressed at all. Yet, somehow, he’d understood her heart.

Always.

He was thoughtful before he replied. She knew instinctively that his reasons were difficult to put into words. Perhaps because they were so very inexplicable.

On face value, feeling what she felt, knowing what she was, even without the specifics, why would anyone have ever loved her?

“What would you do if the sun burned too bright, blistering you with its heat and blinding you with its light?” he said softly.

“Would you shun it to live in a world of darkness?”

“Well,” Lizzy said, logically processing the question, even in her dreams, “one can’t live without the sun. I could always get some protective gear and slather myself in sunscreen.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his lips quirk in amusement.

“Just so,” he agreed.

“What would you do if the night was freezing cold, seemingly endless, bleak and despairing? Would you shun it to live only in the daylight?”

“Well, I’d never sleep if that’s case,” Lizzy said. “Darkness can be cool and soothing too. And I need it to anticipate the day. Without darkness, how can there be light?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“That’s how you were to me. Light and Darkness and all their extremes. But all their comforts too. Nourishing. Inspiring. You made me feel alive as nothing else ever could in the whole of the Universe. It was always my choice to love you; nothing compelled me. Love is the ultimate freedom and gift. Like any true gift, it doesn’t require reciprocation or reason. It simply was. I simply gave it.”

She took in the heavenly tableau before her, untouched by time and civilization. She must have done something right if she helped to create this, as he said. It was hard to believe that she could have ever accomplished something so stupendous.

Her.

Ordinary, nerdy, plain old Lizzy.

Never mind that she could ever have been loved by someone as extraordinary as him .

But this was a dream, and apparently she dreamed big.

“I hope I get the chance to love you right,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Hopefully, you’re not too out of my league and intimidating. Research shows that the couples who last the longest are the most well-matched in every way. Looks, education, background, experiences. Or if one of them spiked in certain areas, then it would be best if the other one spiked in other areas. Balance is key, you know?”

“So, you wouldn’t love me if you didn’t think we were well-matched in the ways that you define?” he quipped, humor in his tone.

“Well, I am extremely wary of anyone too good-looking,” she said, thinking through his question seriously.

“They tend to be playboys, which I absolutely despise. And anyone over six feet is probably too tall for me, as much as I admire height. It’s better just to admire the very tall ones from afar. Up close, I’d get a crick in my neck. I feel pretty secure in my intelligence, so at least there’s that. But people with too much money makes me uncomfortable. I want to pay my own way, which means we won’t be living in the type of luxury that someone rich might be used to.”

“What about chemistry?” he asked, his tone still teasing. “What if you can’t help but fall in lust with me?”

“Oh, I don’t believe in that at all,” she brushed aside immediately.

“I’m almost thirty years old and haven’t yet met anyone that gives me even the remotest hint of the ‘zing’ some people say exists. Not in real life, anyway.”

Except two memories swirled in the back of her mind. One on the day she almost lost her tiger kite, and another on her first visit to NYC, riding in the subway.

“But you feel the zing here in our dreams, do you not?” he pressed gently.

“Well, that’s just fantasy,” she said stoutly. “I have an overactive imagination. I can do and be whatever I want in my dreams. I’m limitless here.”

He turned to her; she could feel it.

“And what do you want to do now, my Lizzy? If you could do and be whatever you want?”

She didn’t turn to face him, for she didn’t want him to disappear.

But she smiled wide at the sea of clouds and snow-capped mountains and said firmly:

“I want to do you , mystery man. And I want to be everything you could ever want…”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Lizzy woke up at five A.M. Bangkok time after a continuous twelve-hour rest.

Heaven!

Even better, she awoke to a toe-curling orgasm given the explicitly carnal nature of her euphoric dreams. Then, she proceeded to exercise Mr. Purple for the next two hours, putting him through his paces, clocking at an orgasm every five minutes or so, if not even more frequently. (Must be the moon or that time of the month or something—or the glorious inspiration from her dreams).

Loose and pleasantly tingly, she took a hot shower, moisturized and slathered on some sunscreen, put on a simple sundress, sandals and got ready to hunt down breakfast. She wore her sunglasses like a headband in her hair, pushing it back from her face, gathered up her purse and headed out.

But when she emerged from her room on a spritely step, a part of her brain reminded her that she forgot her key cards inside.

The other ninety percent of her brain completely drew a blank.

Because headed in her direction, only a few feet away was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

Hands down. Bar none. God bless. Amen.

As if she were in her own movie, she watched him approach in slow motion. All six and a half feet of him if he was an inch.

A golden lion of a man. With the most incredibly lustrous blond hair, though blond was too bland a word to describe it. Every shiny metallic hue was in his hair, tied back from his face in a simple knot, clearly long enough to reach his shoulders.

His skin was an all-over golden tan, like only people of Mediterranean heritage could achieve. She’d bet he had no tan lines, but she’d volunteer to check just to be sure.

His features were striking on their own, but together, they defied description. Perfectly arresting, yet imperfect too. A kind of male beauty beyond her ability to comprehend; so powerful, she fell back a step from its impact.

The lower half of his face was covered by a scruffy beard, the aggressive kind that men with an abundance of hair grew. He likely had a decent amount elsewhere on his body, though she could only see the golden dusting on his arms and legs, for he wore a simple T-shirt and shorts. Loose though his clothes were, they still molded to the hard contours of his body by a light sheen of sweat.

And gracious!

She could clearly see the outline of his pectorals, abs and…other bulges. The man should wear a shapeless potato sack in public. Surely, such a blatant display of masculinity should be illegal. Way too distracting for unsuspecting bystanders like herself.

But it was his gemstone blue-green eyes that enthralled her. They pierced right into her, held her immobile with one foot out of her room, and one foot still inside.

Those eyes were like laser beams, their intensity not the least softened by the thickets of lush, long, dark gold lashes that framed them.

Worst of all, the generous lips she could see within his beard started to spread in the most seductive, knowing, magnetic smile—

As if he was coming toward her with purpose.

As if he’d been waiting for her to appear.

Had waited for a very long time, in fact.

And now she was finally here.

And he was immeasurably happy to see her.

She shrank back a little at the power of that smile seemingly directed at her for some miraculous reason.

Maybe she was misinterpreting it. Maybe she woke up this morning with a third eye and didn’t see it when she looked in the mirror, and he was finding this anomaly extremely amusing, and that’s why he was smiling at her with the dazzling brightness of a newly born star.

(Though why anyone would find a third eye amusing instead of horrifying was beyond her.)

And then, finally, he was upon her.

Quite literally, for he crowded into her personal space, only a couple of inches separating them.

Lizzy panicked. There was no other word for it.

She spun around suddenly, trying to retreat into the safety of her room, only to bang her foot and knee into the door as it closed and locked in front of her.

Oh shit! She left her keys inside!

She spun back around, clutching her purse, ready to flee to the front desk to get new cards issued, but his heated muscular body was blocking her way like a stone wall. And at some point during her scramble he’d boxed her in with one long arm braced on the door behind her, the rest of him curving around her like a cage made of muscles and flesh.

Tantalizing flesh.

Obsession-inducing muscles.

Lizzy’s eyes widened as far as they could go as she stared up, up , at him.

She was average height, five-five on a good day. And he was over a foot taller. But it was the sheer physicality of him that dwarfed her. She felt literally like a small morsel of rabbit before a mighty lion.

“Hello, neighbor.”

Lizzy shivered with the seismic impact of a low-grade earthquake at the husky, smoky, sinful baritone of his voice. She didn’t so much as hear his words as feel them, strumming down her spine like calloused, capable fingertips.

She gulped, hastily swallowing saliva that had pooled in her mouth, and squeaked out, “Hi.”

For whatever reason, her timid response amused him even more, for his brilliant eyes crinkled at the corners, the aquamarine orbs sparkling even brighter.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He said that as if he fully expected to meet her here. Which was extremely confusing to Lizzy because she would never in her life have expected to meet someone like him.

She hadn’t even dreamed that someone like him existed!

Well…if she dreamed big and went for broke, she might wish her mystery man looked like him, now that she’d seen him and confirmed with her own eyes that such earth-shattering masculine beauty could be real.

“Yeah,” was her inane response.

But she rallied a little as her brain protested her deplorable display of intelligence, so easily brought low by a handsome form.

She was better than this. Superficial wrappings should have no effect on her. It was the heart and soul of a person that mattered.

“Given that we’re right next door to each other, I imagine the chances of us meeting is greater than most,” she managed to articulate, even if her voice was still a little reedy.

A lot needy.

“Mmm,” he hummed.

Or was it purred?

She felt his vocal vibration down to her toes. It made her pleasantly tingly all over, like the aftermath of those morning orgasms.

Heavens, Lizzy! Get a hold of yourself!

“Well, it’s nice running into you, mystery man,” she said as she scooted sideways to weave around the cage of his body.

Before his delicious male musk drugged her into a stupor, she must make her escape.

He didn’t try to block her way, simply watching her with that relentless intensity, tracking her movements like a predator with prey.

Prey that he was deciding if he would let loose to hunt down another day. Or if he would pounce again and bring back under his powerful paw.

Honestly, her body wouldn’t mind at all if he pounced.

But…

Extraordinarily magnificent males like him weren’t meant for ordinary females like Lizzy. She was practical to the bone. They simply weren’t well-matched.

Based on a quick mental calculation, in no universe did any of her “spikes” compensate for his. Maybe if he had the mental capacity of an amoeba, she’d have a chance. But somehow, she didn’t think that was the case. His eyes were too sharp for that.

And he was too tall.

And his hair was too golden.

She preferred dark-haired men, she reminded herself. Lean, scholarly, relatively hairless men in general.

There. Her trusty relationship algorithm spat out the one-thousand-percent incompatibility prognosis within a millisecond. She would just treat him the way she treated any gorgeous scenery or art—with objective admiration from afar.

“Gotta go,” she said, stepping around him.

“Have a nice day!”

Trying not to hurry and seem as if she was running away, she walked purposefully down the hall, away from him.

“The elevator is in the other direction,” he called out, voice practically brimming with humor.

“Roger that!” she cheerfully replied, executing a precise about-face and strode past him again, this time rosy-faced with embarrassment.

She could swear she heard the low rumbles of his chuckles following her all the way to the elevator.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

When Ben got inside his suite, he immediately leaned back against the door before his knees gave out.

That was her!

Elizabeth Rose Winters.

His soulmate.

His one .

He’d recognize her anywhere, anytime. Every part of him, down to the molecular level, felt the rightness of it.

His body practically screamed for him to take her. Own her. Fill her with his flesh, his seed, his heart, his soul.

Gods! It had been so long.

Thirty years might be just the blink of an eye for an Immortal, but he’d been born human. Thirty years was half his lifetime. He’d been waiting for half his life to find her again.

And she was everything he could have hoped for:

A unique combination of Asian and Western features. Tousled, choppy, dark brown hair that glanced her shoulder blades. Almond-shaped light gray eyes with striations of silver, gold and green. Angled brows that arched over them like eagle wings. A small, straight nose. And lush, full lips.

He’d been close enough to see the straight spikes of her lashes. They created particularly dramatic shadows on her lower lid, making it look as if she lined her eyes with kohl. But her face was clear of any makeup, just a slight dewy sheen from the sunscreen and cherry lip gloss he could smell.

She was beautiful.

So beautiful to him, his heart hurt with a glorious pain.

But it was her aura, her presence, the joyfulness of her soul that mesmerized and enslaved him.

This Lizzy was happy . So wondrously happy.

She clearly knew who she was, what she wanted in life, and projected the innate security in herself that only a humble, well-loved person could have.

And not necessarily loved by others. No. She loved her self . She was comfortable and confident in her own skin.

In all of her incarnations, he’d never seen this peace and contentment within her, making her glow from the inside out. That’s what made her so irresistibly beautiful to him.

The most beautiful soul in the universe.

He probably should have given her more space, but his body demanded that he demonstrate his need, the way a virile male herded a female in heat. He’d been hard from the moment he saw her, his thickening cock threatening to jut past the waistband of his running shorts.

He was just returning from his morning jog around the river, thinking about the dragon eggs, Dark politics, trying not to give in to the temptation to think about her .

But then, there she was! Coming out of her room right next to his, just like before, with a bouncy spring in her step.

He couldn’t help it. His whole body lit up at the sight of her. His vision narrowed to only her, and his lips spread of their own volition into the dopiest of smiles.

He got in front of her so fast, she stumbled back, her eyes going big like a frightened doe.

Ben knew what he was doing as he was doing it, but he couldn’t stop. He’d never crowded a woman before, never intruded into another’s personal space unless it was martial in nature.

He’d never felt this kind of primitive, primal, sexual aggression. In their previous incarnations, she’d always been the one to pursue him, command him. Ever since he grew a soul to love her.

She’d been a god , for fuck’s sake.

It had been a mutual push and pull when they were both human in the last life, but clearly, the balance had tipped in this one. In ways he’d never known he could feel and behave.

Now, he pulled the waistband of his shorts low enough to free the swollen, pulsing, drooling head of his cock, to give it that minute relief. He wrapped his fist around the sensitive crown and squeezed, pulling on it the way he imagined her mouth might, sucking tight around him, her tongue teasing his slit.

He ran his thumb over it to imitate that imagined motion, spreading his dew over himself, slicking the way. He closed his eyes as he leaned his shoulder blades against the door, hips pumping slowly into his fist, in time with the calloused squeezes that sent sparks of pleasure to his heavy scrotum.

Lizzy …

He called out to her in his mind. Chanted her name.

My Lizzy…

His hips rocked harder. His cock thrust deeper. His fist squeezed tighter. His heart pounded faster.

Until he came on a muted roar. Erupted in wave after wave of scalding cream. Drenching his hand, his shirt and shorts, splattering thickly onto the floor.

He continued to work his sensitive sex until his climax wound down to aching, seed-less pulses, but his erection didn’t fade. It stood proud and turgid against his stomach, as if protesting this pale imitation to the real thing that it was just made to endure.

He swatted the still swollen head in frustration and grunted at the pain he inflicted upon himself.

Lizzy clearly didn’t know who he was. She didn’t remember him. If he saw lust in her eyes, it was no different than the way other people looked at him.

She didn’t see him .

Not the way he saw her.

He had to be patient. She wasn’t his yet.

But make no mistake—he was going to pursue her, win her, make her his.

He pushed away from the door and shed his clothes, whistling as he made his way to the shower.

He was immensely looking forward to the most important pursuit of his life.