B00CGOH3US EBOK (31 page)

Jill snorted. "I sure hope I make a better mom than I do an aunt. Speed shopping for my niece's birthday present is what got me into this mess in the first place."

"Then should I ever meet your niece, I shall thank her. For if you had not come, I would still be in my cave with some poor weeping girl hiding in the shadows."

"Zoe would like you. She has a thing for dragons. They're about the only fairy tale characters she's interested in."

"Ah, fairy tales. A talking pig and a pumpkin carriage." She watched as he shook off the last vestiges of the little boy and eyed her with the skeptical gaze of the man. "Can such things truly happen in your world?"

She could tell the adult in him knew the truth, but the boy who'd sat captivated only moments before still wanted to believe in the possibility.

"Only in Walt Disney's world. It's just make-believe." She made a sound half-way between a snort and a laugh. "Then again, I never would've believed in time travel and look how I got here."

"When we first met, you said dragons did not exist, and yet here I am."

"Yes, you certainly are."

He stared at her, taking in every detail of her face, then his gaze rested on her mouth. "Would that, like in the story of the maiden with the apple, a single kiss could break my curse."

The wistfulness in his voice made her catch her breath.

"Maybe it can." Her reply sounded husky to her ears.
Did I really just say that?

"My lady?" He jerked, startled.

Jill shrugged, attempting to lighten the tension suddenly filling the air.
Are you out of your mind, flirting with a dragon?
"Couldn't hurt to try."

"You would kiss me?" Longing and disbelief ignited in the flame in his eyes.

Too late to go back now.
She cupped his cheek, the stubble tingling the sensitive skin of her palm, and she leaned in to touch her lips to his. It was a tender kiss. No tongue. No heavy breathing. No groping. Just a soft brush of the lips and no more—and yet it shook her to her core.

She eased back, surprised at how something so innocent could affect her so. With an single kiss, Baelin had just crossed the line from a ticket back home to something much more.

"Still a dragon?"

He nodded, but she wasn't certain he heard her. Silence stretched between them, his eyes searching her face for a happy ending to his own tale.

Her heart broke for him in that moment, because it was an ending she wasn't sure would come true.

The sound of Roderick trudging out of the woods startled her back to reality and she recognized the mistake for what it was. She didn't want to care about him, and she didn't want him to care about her. After all they had been through, she knew without a doubt that one of them was going to get hurt.

Before Baelin could say another word, she stood and walked away, the pull of his need too intense.

If Jill thought having two knights constantly trying to one up each other in displays of physical prowess and chivalrous deeds was annoying, she was wrong.

Apparently, there was nothing like a little fighting and bloodshed to promote male bonding, even if the enemy in question was a big, hairy, snaggletooth pig. Jill wasn't exactly sure what happened in the woods between the two men, but since then, the knights had done a complete about face and carried on as if they were the best of friends.

Now here they both sat, in a crowded, smoky inn in the middle of nowhere, well on their way to getting drunk.

She shook her head, amazed at how little had changed in eight centuries of male evolution. Put them in t-shirts and baseball caps in a sports bar and they would fit right in. All they lacked was a wide screen TV in every corner and a half dozen well-endowed waitresses in white tank tops and orange shorts two sizes too small.

Speaking of which, at this very moment Roderick was leering in open appreciation as the barmaid leaned over the table to deposit two more tankards of ale, her ample cleavage nearly falling out of the top of her gown. Baelin wasn't much better as he watched the girl saunter away with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

Jill stood corrected. Apparently they did have Hooters in medieval England after all.

She should be glad. At least they weren't at each other's throats anymore. But she wasn't entirely sure being in a public place in the company of the bosom buddies was any better.

They'd stumbled on the busy little inn at a muddy, wagon wheel-rutted crossroads only an hour before. It was the first time since her ill-fated excursion to the village that Jill had seen another building in their travels. Come to think of it, it was first time she'd seen anything resembling a road since then, too.

Delighted, Roderick had suggested they stop for the night. Jill had expected Baelin to say no. After all, the last two times she'd been anywhere near a large group of people, she ended up getting herself sacrificed to a dragon and burned with a hot poker. Not a very good track record, in her opinion. But to her surprise, Baelin had agreed. He'd told her to refuse the obvious comfort of the inn would've been odd and drawn suspicion from Roderick. It was probably not a good idea to have a dragonslayer—even one who now considered Baelin his new favorite drinking buddy—wondering if they had something to hide.

As dangerous as it was, the lone perk in stopping by the inn was waiting up stairs. Jill would have a bed to sleep in tonight. Baelin had procured her a room all to herself and she was looking forward to a peaceful night's sleep in a nice comfortable bed instead of out on the cold, hard ground surrounded by wild animals and snoring knights. She could hardly wait.

Poor Owen was out in the stables. It didn't seem fair to make the boy sleep outside in a smelly old barn like a flea-bitten dog. But Baelin told her it was part of his duties in his training to be a squire, to guard Roderick's horse and weapons throughout the night. Apparently, child labor laws were non-existent in the Middle Ages. At least they'd sent him off with a hot meal before they settled down to their beer guzzling.

Which was another thing that left her uncomfortable. What if Baelin got drunk and slipped up and somehow revealed himself?

Just then, his gaze caught hers and she realized he was nowhere near as buzzed as Roderick. Did being part dragon help him handle his alcohol better than a normal man? Maybe he was a walking flambé and the alcohol burned off the minute it hit his stomach? It didn't matter. She was just relieved at least one of them was sober and they didn't have to worry about driving home tonight.

The barmaid returned with three servings of stew served in hollowed out loaves of bread. It smelled good, although Jill avoided asking exactly what was in it. She probably didn't want to know and she ate it anyway. It was a welcome change from the dried meat and hard bread they'd survived on before killing the boar. And after eating nothing yesterday but roast pig for breakfast, lunch and dinner, she was beginning to hate pork, too. The warm ale was a shock to her American taste buds. She would have killed for an ice cold Bud Light, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

She dug in, not coming up for air until the bread bowl was empty. Blissfully full, her exhaustion and the warm air of the common room threatened to lull her into sleep where she sat, but she was not about to snooze on the hard table when she had a soft, cozy bed to curl up in.

"Well, since you two are no longer in danger of slitting each other's throats without me to play referee, I think I will go to bed."

Roderick stood, steadier on his feet than she thought he'd be. "Allow me to escort you to your chamber, my lady."

Baelin stood, too. His hand already on her elbow, he lifted her from the bench. "Nay, I shall see the lady to her room."

"Ah, and will you be staying there?" Roderick grinned, a knowing gleam in his eye.

Baelin tensed at her side, his fingers biting into her arm. If he wasn't gripping her with his right hand, she was certain he would have drawn his sword on the other knight.

Jill shook her head. "So much for the friendly truce."

Roderick lifted his hands in mock surrender. "I meant no insult. I was merely asking if you intend to seek out your bed also or if you will return for a bit more refreshment."

"I see." Baelin rubbed the side of his face and chuckled. Just as quickly as his anxiety flared, it was gone. Guess having a friend after so long took a little getting used to. "Aye, I shall return. 'Tis obvious it is not safe to leave you to your own devices. The next man may not be so understanding and you might very well lose your head."

"I would appreciate that." Roderick grinned. "Makes it terribly difficult to keep my helm on without it."

She looked back and forth between the two men. "Please don't kill each other after I'm gone."

"We will make every effort not to." The knight laughed as he sat back down and turned his attention to the barmaid.

Baelin guided her through the maze of tables filled with people. There was an interesting mixture of lords and ladies, merchants and peasants alike. So different and yet so similar to what she would expect to see in the lobby of a modern hotel. She smiled as they passed by a family with several small children. The youngest had fallen asleep with his head on the table, his little hand cupping the half eaten bowl of stew as if afraid someone would take it from him while he slept. Too cute.

They made their way to the stairs where a young boy about Owen's age waited with a rushlight to lead customers down the dark hallways to their rooms. What do you know? A medieval bellhop.

She eyed the extreme vertical slant of the steps, more a ladder than a staircase. The boy went first, then Jill, with Baelin following discreetly behind her. About half way up, she glanced back to see he was keeping his eyes on the narrow steps and not attempting to look up her skirt like most men would have done if they were in his position.

Always the chivalrous knight to the very end.

They reached the second floor and made their way down a narrow hallway, the single light the boy carried doing little to dispel the shadows. Entering a dark room at the end of the hall, light flared as the boy lit a candle on the bedside table.

Jill was surprised when Baelin motioned for her to wait and entered the room before her. What happened to ladies first? Wasn't that part of chivalry? Jill followed, the meager flame of the candle casting a pool of light across the floor of the small room.

Whatever she'd been expecting, she was disappointed. The Ritz Carlton it was not. The room was tiny and cramped. The narrow bed, tucked under one of the eaves, looked more like a cot. She doubted even Owen could stand straight without bumping his head on the slanted ceiling.

Baelin tossed the lad a coin and he scurried out the door, leaving them alone in the tiny box of a room. Since the kiss two nights ago, they hadn't had one moment alone without either Roderick or Owen nearby. The awkward we've-shared-a-kiss-now-what-do-we-do situation had been easy to ignore. But without the medieval bellhop to act as pseudo-chaperone, the room felt too close, too confined, too intimate.

A look passed over Baelin's face as if he felt it too, and he busied himself with searching the shadows in the eaves and behind the door.

"What are you looking for?"

"One never knows what dangers lurk in unfamiliar places."

"Oh. Aren't you going to check under the bed for the boogie man, too?"

His brow creased in confusion as yet another modern anachronism flew right over his head. Even so, he knelt to peer under the bed. Apparently satisfied the room was intruder-free, he rose and walked to the door.

"Bolt the door. Open it for no one but me."

"I'm a big girl, Baelin. I'll be fine."

He regarded her for a long, pulse-quickening moment. What was he thinking?

"Aye, you are brave, my lady. But you are no match against a man bent on lascivious intent. More than one has been known to drink too much at an inn and confuse one room for another. Do not make the mistake of opening the door for anyone but me."

Jill couldn't resist. "Not even for Sir Roderick?" she said innocently.

Baelin growled. "Especially not Sir Roderick."

She laughed. Guess their newfound friendship only went so far. "I'm just kidding. I'm going to bed and don't intend to crawl out of it until morning. You go baby-sit Casanova before he gets himself in trouble."

"I will not over long. My room is next to yours. Tap on the wall should you need anything during the night."

"Why, Sir Baelin, is that an invitation?" She made a
tsking
sound. "And here you were warning me about wandering drunken strangers when it sounds like I should be wary of your intentions. Shame on you."

His shocked expression was almost comical, somewhere between insulted and embarrassed at having his words misconstrued.

She shoved him out into the hallway. "Relax. I know my virtue is quite safe in your hands."

Grinning, she closed the door in his bewildered face, shaking her head at his overprotective nature as she bolted the door.

Her smile faded with the sound of Baelin's retreating footsteps down the hall. What had come over her? Had she actually been flirting? And what had she expected in return, a goodnight kiss?