Ragnar: Dragon Lord of Wye Page 6
“Practical. It’s what you do when you work for a living.”
That disarming, cocky grin settled on his face. “You look lovely. The color suits you.”
Priya mumbled a thanks when she noticed his eyes settling on her feet. “What is it with you and my feet?”
“You painted your scales.”
“You mean my toenails? Yes.”
“And the scales on your fingers.” He lifted her hand, examining her nails.
“Fingernails.”
He tapped a nail with tip of his finger. “Ah. It is keratin, yes? My scales are made of similar material.”
“Well, we call them nails.”
“Wyer females rub a colored pigment into their scales. I find the color attractive on you.”
Priya yanked her hand away.
“Dinner?” he asked, undisturbed by her scowling.
Priya couldn't remember the last meal she had that wasn’t instant noodles. She really wanted a steak: thick, juicy and melt-in-your-mouth tender. That kind of meal was pricey and if Ragnar paid, it was another gift. How many gifts would he burden her with before trying to collect?
“This meal is freely given,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts.
“And the dress? The spa? I don’t like being in debt to anyone.”
“I’m not anyone. I’m your mate.”
Her fake mate. Their relationship wasn’t real. Still, she had to eat. She could be morally upright and have another bowl of bland noodles or bend a little and have a real meal with her pretend husband.
“Nothing too fancy,” she said.
“I scouted the finest dining establishment on this moon.”
Kyle Moon Base’s finest dining establishment was a bar and grill. The decor was twenty years out of fashion and the furnishings long in the tooth, but it was clean and the appetizing aroma of fresh food wafted through the air. Business at the bar was brisk and people enjoyed their meals at tables. Conversation and music filled the air. This was her kind of place.
The steak was everything she craved, tender and juicy. She didn’t care if it came from a cow or was grown in a lab. It was so perfect she had to close her eyes and savor the delectable taste.
Priya cracked open an eye and found Ragnar smirking. “What?”
“I enjoy watching you.”
“Knock it off. It’s creeping me out.” She waved a fork toward his untouched plate, indicating he should eat. “Stuff your gob or something.”
He cut off a bite of his own steak and nodded approval as he chewed. “Is all Terran protein from animals?”
“We get protein from plants, too. But that has to be grade A, lab-grown, cruelty free meat.” No way was genuine animal product affordable that far out on the IU fringe. “And there’s no way you didn’t know that. You’ve had Terran food before.”
“I am attempting to make conversation. Tell me about your family.”
Priya narrowed her eyes. Was that his game? Distract her with such a phenomenally bad question that his less-than-subtle interrogation seemed reasonable by comparison? Then again, they were to be married, fake or not. The male needed to know something about his future in-laws.
“My parents are farmers.”
“You said as much earlier.”
“My father had been a pilot in Earth’s military, then he went civilian flying transport shuttles. He taught me how to fly, by the way. I was really young when we left Earth for the colonies. Maybe five? Six? I barely remember it.” The memories she had were forged by photographs and the stories her mother told, tales of her own childhood and extended family. “Now it’s just Mom, Dad and the twins, Nisha and Nathaniel. We’re not that exciting. Nothing ever really happens.” Except for that whole indentured servitude thing.
Priya frowned, the meal turning to ash in her mouth.
“Why did your family leave your home world?” He sounded genuinely perplexed. His lordship was far from his home world but acted as if leaving to never returned was anathema to him.
“Why does anyone emigrate? Build a better life for your family. Fresh air. Fresh start. All that. What about your family?” It had to be all stuffy titles and snobbery.
Ragnar shrugged. “My mother has a minor title in small province. I am assured by my extended relations that the family was once much grander.”
“What happened?”
“Revolution. A new dynasty came to the throne and elevated those who supported that bloodline.”
“And punished those who opposed?”
“Ah, I see you have a natural understanding of politics.”
“It’s human nature,” she said, flushing when she realized her words. “Wyer nature? I mean, that’s the way people behave.”
He waved away her apology. “I have two older sisters from my mother’s first marriage. My father is the youngest son of the queen. I am close in age to my cousin, Prince Korven. We were educated together and served in the military together.”
“And now you guard him?”
“It is an interesting position. As the grandson of the queen, I have some importance and no place is forbidden to me. As the son of a minor house, I have a great deal of freedom of choice because my sisters bear the burden of responsibility.”
“Did you just legit say you have royal authority to be a spoiled brat?”
“No.” His eyes gleamed, green and reptilian. “People assume I have authority when, in fact, I have none. I shadow my cousin because I am expendable for my family but off-worlders mistakenly give me deference.”
Poor little rich boy.
Priya sighed, pushing away her plate. All this family talk soured her mood.
“What will your family do once they are free?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” She’d been so focused on rescue, she hadn’t considered what happened next. “We can’t go back to the farm. That’s Gracious’ property now. It’s probably already been sold to new owners.”
“They will live at Stoneledge House,” Ragnar said with a nod, decided.
“What? No.”
“Yes. I have a farm in need of farmers.”
“No. We can’t accept.” Another gift. It was too much.
“You speak for them now?”
“What are you doing? This is another gift we’ll never be able to pay you back for.”
“Once you see the state of Stoneledge House, you will realize this is not a gift,” he said with a smile.
“Can you be a little serious here? I’m not comfortable with all the gifts.” The dress, the meal...
“They are freely given.”
“No one gives anything away without expecting something.”
“True. I am trying to win your favor.”
Priya clenched her teeth at the lie Ragnar expected her to swallow. Win her favor? A man like him, wealthy and famous, could have anyone he wanted, had dated celebrities and the most beautiful women in the galaxy, and he was busting his hump to impress her? No. The situation didn’t add up.
He only picked her for the sham marriage because she was there, because he had dirt on her. If she broke their agreement, he could report his kidnapping. That had to be the real reason.
She scanned the bar. The after-dinner rush crowded up the floor space. Along the far back wall, she spotted the typical bar games: darts, a billiards table and a video game cabinet. Ragnar’s gaze followed her own.
“Perhaps a wager? A chance to win your family’s position?” He raised an eyebrow.
The video screen flickered, advertising ancient games. Priya had several on her tablet. Those games filled the long, empty hours while running deliveries.
“The stakes?” she asked.
“A game, your choice. If I win, you will allow me to offer the Barber family a place on our property.”
“And if I win?”
“Three months off our marriage.”
Priya sucked in her breath. Three months. She’d only have to spend nine months pretending to be his wife. “Deal.”
She selected a classic arcade game, Space Invader Defense, one of the first she ever played. Memories of sitting crossed-legged on the living room floor, controller in hand, riveted to the simple geometric shapes on the view screen were burned into her mind. She’d spent hundreds of hours playing this game. Ragnar was toast.
“Best of three?” The game moved fast. She could easily have three months of her life back in five minutes.
He nodded in agreement.
The first round, Priya worked out the rust and muscle memory came back stronger than ever. Ragnar won, but just barely. The second and third victories were hers without serious competition.
Arms held up in triumph, she did a quick dance, gloating. A good winner she was not.
“You cheated,” Ragnar said with a frown.
“I did not! You just suck.”
“You distracted me with your… your feminine charms. I could practically see down your top.”
Priya fought her instinct to clutch the collar of the dress. “You picked this out and stop looking, you perv.”
His arm went around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. Stars, he was hot, like a furnace. The tip of his nose touched hers, his lips a breath away from hers. Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t want him to kiss her but she also really wanted him to kiss her.
“No,” he said, releasing her with a swat on the butt. “You cannot prohibit me from admiring you.”
“Hey, don’t go looking down my top and then cry that I cheated with my boobs. I don’t complain that your ass distracts me.”
His eyes flashed. “You like my ass?”
“Stop it. You know you’re handsome.” Her blush took her over hot and fierce.
“How about another? Double or nothing?” He leaned on the arcade cabinet, his muscular bottom aimed in her direction. His wings fluttered in a way he must have thought flirty.
Priya couldn’t fight her laugh. “You must like losing, your lordship. I almost feel bad for taking advantage of you.”
“Almost but not enough to stop you?”
“Nope. Someone has to keep your ego in check.”
The second round went much as the first. In less than ten minutes, she shaved six months off the fake marriage.
“I can’t believe how bad you suck!” Still not a good winner.
“Another round. I have mastered this game now.”
“Oh no. I’m stopping while I’m ahead.” There was nothing Ragnar could offer her that would be worth risking six months.
“I want to win back my time.”
“Nope. Not interested.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re not willing to hear my wager?”
“You don’t have anything I need.”
“And your family? What if I wager the credit to set your family up anywhere they choose to settle?”
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere. Earth. Wye. Back to Blackborn. Avalon. Anywhere.”
“And when you say set them up…”
“If your parents wish to farm, I will purchase a farm. An apartment in a city. A ship. Anything they need to settle and start an occupation.”
The offer was huge. Beyond huge. The temptation to say yes was overwhelming.
And from the spark in his eyes, Ragnar knew it.
“And if I lose?” she asked.
“Our marriage is restored to one year.”
That seemed reasonable. Too reasonable.
Ragnar continued, “And you will give me a kiss. On the lips. Plus the panties you are wearing.”
There it was.
“You’re joking,” she sputtered. Her panties?
“This is very serious to me,” he said. He leaned in, mouth to her ear, breath hot against her face. “Will they be wet for me? Drenched in your sweet musk? I must know.”
Her face grew heated with a blush. How did he do that to her?
She nodded. “Fine. I agree to those terms. You set my family up or I spent a year with you.”
“And—”
“Yes, you’ll get them. Dirty boy.” Oh, he was filthy and Priya really liked that about him.
The machine came to life with another credit. Geometric alien invaders filled the screen and descended from the top slowly. Priya’s character at the bottom of the screen raced from side to side, destroying the advancing aliens. Gradually the speed increased and difficulty in hitting the targets correctly increased. She missed more and more. Her hands slapped the cabinet in frustration, trying to avoid glancing at Ragnar’s side of the screen where his character hit every target.
The speed continued to increase. Finally, the alien invaders reached her character. The game ended. Her score was just as high as the previous games but Ragnar’s score was double.
He hustled her.
Ragnar
Victory was sweet but not as sweet as his mate and the way her chest heaved with anticipation. Or anger. Both emotions looked appealing on her expressive face. He particularly enjoyed the way her eyes went wide and her mouth moved but no sound came out. Very amusing.
“My winnings?”
The pink blush came back. She looked around them quickly. “I’m not going to take them off here.”
“And yet I refuse to leave without them.” He took a step forward and she took an reflexive step back. He kept pushing forward and she kept retreating until her back pressed against the arcade cabinet. With wings flexed, his bulk blocked his mate from the sight of others.
Good. The dragon in him chuffed, pleased that no one else could gaze upon his treasure. His. Especially now that his hand skimmed up the back of her long, perfect legs and under the short skirt, cupping her ass. By the Eye of the Mother, he’d been staring at her legs all night. He wanted those legs around his waist. Around his face. The females in the shop did well with his vague description and command to dress his mate in something that demanded to be removed immediately.
As pleasing as the red dress was against Priya’s olive complexion, he wanted to rip it off her luscious figure. Now.
His fingers hooked over the top of her panties and gave a slight tug, rolling down the fabric.
“Someone will see,” she protested.
His thumb brushed along the gusset of her panties, finding the fabric soaked. “I think you want someone to see,” he whispered low enough for only her to hear. “I think you protest but your sweet cunt is wet for me.” Another stroke and she visibly shivered. “I think if I dropped to my knees, you’d feed me your pussy.”
Her hips jerked at his words. Yes, she liked that idea.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” she managed to say.
“I won a kiss,” he said, fingers now between the fabric and her damp curls. He stroked her swollen lower lips, brushing gently against her clit. Her hips jerked in response. “On the lips.”
“We didn’t say which lips,” she said, talking herself into it.
“It’s dark. We’re in a corner. No one will see. That is, if you keep quiet. Can you keep quiet, sweet one?” He knelt, both hands now under the dress and only a thin layer of fabric from paradise.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do that. Not here. Not with people watching.”
Disappointment flared briefly. His female was bold but not that bold. “Understood. I will take no more than you are willing to give.” His hands hooked back around her panties and slid them all the way down to her ankles. Ivory. “But I will be taking these.”
“Perv,” she ground out, half moan, half accusation.
“Winner. The word you’re looking for is winner.” He tucked the panties into his trouser pockets. “My other prize?”
Priya lifted her chin, determination setting in. “Fine. It’s not like this means anything.” She closed her eyes, waiting.
Ragnar placed a hand behind her neck, cradling her. His thumb ghosted over her soft, pink lips, parting them with the slightest prod. Her lashes fluttered open, spying on him. She mig
ht act resentful, but excitement vibrated in her body.
“This means everything.”
He claimed her lips, and she opened to him, giving him entrance. His tongue entwined with hers. She moaned into him. How could she think this meant nothing?
He’d have to show her.
Chapter Eight
Priya
The early Terran colony of Blackborn met with tragedy when aggressive and unknown alien race called Edder attacked the original colony. There were no survivors. Fields went fallow and buildings sat empty for a century while humanity expanded to new, less haunted planets. Pirates and smugglers used the abandoned colony as a way point. Settlers returned because the planet was green and hospitable. Viable planets were too few and far in between for a perfectly good one to go to waste because of superstition. When the settlers did return, the Blackborn failed to rejoin the Interstellar Union. As a result, the colony had no policing force and regarded laws as helpful suggestions.
It was a green and pleasant, if lawless, place.
Back on Blackborn, Gracious’ compound rested in the center of a northern city. The Dashing Canard docked without issue.
The Barber homestead was on the northern continent but not near Gracious’ city. Priya had no idea what compelled her father to take a loan from the such an obvious criminal. Certainly, there were closer loan sharks. Maybe that was the point. Hamish made an untenable deal far away from home, reducing the chance his family would find out.
Fat lot of good that did.
Ragnar moved to exit the ship with her.
“I need you to stay,” she said. “I have to do this alone.”
“It’s too dangerous.” He huffed, chest expanding and wings flexing.
“Calm down, big guy,” Priya said, patting him on the shoulder. “I need you to keep the engines running in case we need to make a quick exit.”
His nostrils flared, not happy. “This is logical but I do not like it. You should not be alone with… with…”
“Gracious just wants his credit. I’ll be fine.” She hoped.
Priya weighed the bag of credits in her hand. Physical credit was the preferred currency in Gracious’ circle and the credits opened every door. Henchmen escorted her through the house and out the back, through the garden to the back lawn. There Gracious lounged in a reclining chair, nude as the day he was born with a drink in hand. The creamy tan of his coat gleamed in the sun. The vivid red tattoos highlighted a fit, lean form. Young kits splashed and shouted in the pool. It was almost tranquil.