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CHAPTER EIGHT

W hat had he been thinking, yelling at her like that? When she unwittingly opened his mother’s door, he hadn’t thought, he’d just reacted. The look of absolute terror on Melora’s face haunted his thoughts.

He really was a monster.

He gnashed his sharp teeth together and flicked his tail. Well, what did you expect? an inner voice nagged. You are a terrifying dragon.

Had he been human, he wouldn’t have frightened her so. But then, he also wouldn’t have had the pleasure of her touch. A thrill went through him at the memory of her hand softly stroking his scales. It had been a very long time since he had been touched so gently, so casually. The last person he’d touched was his mother…

He shook that thought away. It wouldn’t do to dwell on unhappy thoughts. As a human he could never feel her touch, but at least she wouldn’t look at him with fear in her eyes. He wouldn’t be a monster. She’d seemed to take an interest in him when they first met. In any case, his incredible wealth couldn’t hurt.

Yes, he needed to shift out of his dragon form posthaste. The trouble was, his control over the shifts had lessened with time as the golden flame over his heart seemed to flicker and grow. In the first few months, he had shifted almost at will—but since his mother… Well, he was finding it more and more difficult to remain human. Fear of what the dragon’s spell was doing to him gnawed at his thoughts. But if he was honest with himself, he was losing any reason to remain human. He was grateful that he’d been able to shift long enough to meet the beautiful Melora in person even though his original mission to break the curse for his mother had proven fruitless.

Melora made everything worth it.

If only he could be human for her once again, no longer a terrifying beast to cower before. Shame ate at him. She’d been avoiding him all day long. Smoke curled out of his nostrils as he huffed. She obviously enjoyed staying at the exquisite castle. She just didn’t like him. He had only himself to blame.

Pacing his tower wasn’t helping. Perhaps what he needed was a change of scene. Besides, if he did manage to shift back, he would likely turn all of his blankets to gold again—the last thing he needed. Few enough comfortable things remained in the house as it was.

Unfurling his massive wings, he flew out the open window and descended into his mother’s rose garden, the only place that seemed to bring him comfort anymore. Breathing in the soothing scent of roses, he closed his eyes.

However, instead of his mother’s calming presence, a more beautiful face took her place in his mind—Melora.

He pictured the joy and wonder on her face as she’d spun in the middle of his home, enchanted. The way her smile had brought that adorable dimple into the middle of her cheek. He wanted to give her more reasons to smile and laugh. Would she find such a reason with his human self? He hoped so.

They had seemed to have a moment when their eyes first connected—until he’d offered her that blasted handkerchief! He chuckled to himself. He would not be so remiss when next they met.

As he pictured himself speaking to her once again, encouraging that captivating smile, his scalp tingled, the sensation moving down his spine into the rest of his body and all the way to the tip of his tail. He felt himself shrinking, his body pinching as the transformation took place—finally. Perhaps now he would have a chance to woo her properly.

* * *

S he was dealing with a volatile dragon! Since the glistening creature raged at her for opening the wrong door, she’d avoided him. While initially she had felt safe with him, she now knew there was no telling what he might do should she accidentally displease him again.

For that matter, she wasn’t at all certain how to be a guest in such a house. As a dragon, he had no clothing to wash or mend. Knowing little of dragon activities or diet, she was unqualified to attend or feed him. The only task that remained was polishing the gold. Surely he would need help with such a monumental task. But first, she would indulge in a bit of a walk. The day was warm and the sparkling gardens beckoned.

The golden foliage stood unnaturally still, as if frozen in time. While it glinted and glistened in the sunshine, it felt almost cold. Part of the garden seemed caught amid winter, the slender branches bare, while other parts of the garden seemed to be frozen in spring, full of leaves and flowers. What a strange juxtaposition, especially as she walked deeper into the garden, the ornamental foliage interspersed with the green of fresh new life. Spring was quickly turning into summer. Why were some plants golden while others were not? How had such a transformation occurred?

She had just been contemplating the oddity of the garden when she walked through an archway, entering a new area of the grounds. She inhaled the wonder of the gilded roses as they twinkled all around her, huge flowering blooms alongside delicate buds. The roses climbed trellises, tangling with each other, feeling somehow more alive than the normal flowers sprinkling the garden.

“Beautiful isn’t it? Roses were my mother’s favorite.”

She gasped and turned round to face a familiar man clad entirely in gold. “It’s you!” How did he manage to look so dignified without a jerkin? His fancy tunic did little to hide the well-defined muscle beneath. “What— What are you doing here?” she managed once her tongue no longer felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He grinned, making his deep-blue eyes dance. Rarely had she seen such striking eyes—they seemed to shine against his rich obsidian skin. It made her want to peer closer. Was it perhaps a trick of the light?

“Your eyes are blue.” She blurted without thinking.

He chuckled, making his eyes twinkle even more as he struck a pose. “Yes, they are. My mother always said they were my best feature.” He batted his lashes. Dramatically, making Melora laugh.

“Well, I’ve heard that mothers do know best. Not that I would know much about that…” Her voice trailed off. Why had she said that? What was it about this man that made her simultaneously unable to speak and wanting to voice every thought at once? She shook herself. She’d never lost her head over a man before, and she refused to begin now.

He deftly snapped a large gilded rose off the nearest bush and bowed with an exaggerated flourish, pretending to flick out his nonexistent cape before holding out the offering. “A lovely flower for an enchanting lady.”

“Oh!” She covered her mouth and fought a giggle at the ridiculous picture he made. Melora never giggled. With her father constantly berating her, there was so rarely anything to laugh about. Her father… But that thought reminded her of the dragon’s anger.

Hadn’t she been sent here over a stolen rose? All levity fell away, and her eyes widened as she glanced about and backed up, as if the dragon might appear at any moment. “While I appreciate your thoughtful gesture, sir, you should put it back. You might not know this, but a dragon lives here, and he doesn’t appreciate people stealing his gold. Especially not the flowers.”

Her words abruptly cut off at the sound of his sputtering snicker. “I’m afraid it’s too late to put it back now.”

Her teeth ground together. Why was he making light of this? She stamped her foot. “This is no laughing matter. I merely meant to spare you from the wrath of a fearsome dragon!”

He choked back another laugh. “Fearsome? I hope not.”

Grunting in exasperation, she spun on her heel to leave. If he wouldn’t take her seriously, then let the dragon punish him for his own stupidity. She’d have no part in it.

“Please, Miss Melora, don’t leave. I promise to contain my mirth.”

She scowled. He was missing the entire point. Then realization sliced through her worry. “How do you know my name?” she demanded. Despite encountering him thrice now, she still had no inkling of who he was. She hated to be at such a disadvantage.

He had the decency to look bashful. “I can’t help but remember what that man called you.” He took a step closer, still holding the golden rose. “Melora is quite the beautiful name. It means golden apple, did you know?”

She pressed a hand against her rebelliously fluttering heart. “I’m still irritated with you. Don’t try to flatter me. I find myself at quite the disadvantage as I still don’t know who you are. It seems unfair that you know my name and I don’t know yours.”

“I do apologize. Lor— that is, Aurelius, at your service.” He gave a quick bow and again pointed to the rose. “I didn’t mean to anger you. I should have explained sooner. You see, this is my estate.” Spreading his arms, he indicated everything around them. “So you see, Dragon should not be angry at me for picking my own roses.”

“Your roses?” Heat rose in her cheeks. She folded her arms and looked away, hoping he didn’t notice the heightened color. “You should have told me that before I made a fool of myself instead of laughing at me.”

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It was just the thought of putting the rose back before Dragon terrorized me…” He coughed. “Regardless, you could not be a fool. You are far too pretty.” He flashed her a dazzling smile.

Pretty? She refrained from rolling her eyes. While she loved a compliment as much as the next woman, she'd learned long ago that men wielded praise of her beauty like a weapon. Behind the pretty mask they all wanted to see, a woman of substance and fire ached to be released. “Fools come in all shapes and sizes, pretty and ugly alike,” she snapped.

He batted his ridiculous lashes at her and moved closer, holding the rose out to her once again. “But you are clearly no fool. I see intelligence in those lovely eyes of yours.”

Her lips twitched, and her heart gave a flutter.

“Might I make it up to you with a golden flower?” That smile of his was irritatingly endearing. Especially along with his puppy-dog expression.

With a deep sigh, she reached for the rose. “I suppose it might make things better. Marginally.”

Except he couldn’t simply hand her the rose as a gentleman would. He flinched as her hand neared and awkwardly edged his hand up the stem, poking the end toward her hand. Making an entire production of giving her the rose without actually touching her.

She frowned, feeling a strange mix of hurt and resentment. “I don’t bite.”

“Of course not. I merely wanted to be sure you were safe from… the thorns.”

Had he wanted to do that he could have removed them! Part of her wanted to throw the rose back into his face, though at the same time she longed to keep it. Never had she owned something so exquisite. She fiddled with the delicate stem, avoiding his eyes. “I’m not as wealthy as you obviously are, but that doesn’t mean I’ll somehow sully you if you touch me.” She was embarrassed when her voice cracked.

“Oh no, I never said anything of the sort! I never meant?—”

“You didn’t have to.” Arms pressed tightly against her chest, she spun round and hurried back toward Everrose, trying to keep her tears at bay.

He chased after her. “Please, Miss Melora, that is not what I meant at all. I find you engaging and enchanting.”

Her feet marched onward and she refused to look back. “Your pompous attitude would suggest otherwise. First you laugh at me, then you are so careful not to touch me that it is painful.” She blinked furiously, banishing the tear hovering on her lashes.

“I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

She hastened her step. Hurt her? The gall! How stupid did he think she was? She would soon be inside, back in her room where he could no longer bother her. Part of her longed to escape this whole situation. She would keep her word to Dragon, but that didn’t mean she had to listen to this pompous jerk any longer.

He caught up to her just as she reached her temporary quarters. She twisted around to glare. “Congratulations, Aurelius, you did hurt me,” she said before closing her door in his bewildered face with a satisfying click.