Page 20 of A Matter of Dragons

I dropped Doshir’s arm and pulled back into the shadows, my heart in my throat. By the King’s blessed mother, if Eadberh had to bail me out of the Cairncliff prison in the morning, I’d never hear the end of it.

“There is one very old cook who lives in the house,” Doshir answered, totally nonplussed.

But he followed me into the shadows, his fingers gently brushing my arm. A shiver raced through my skin at the brief contact between our bodies.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered, pointing through the trees. “And don’t worry. The cook can’t hear worth a damn.”

I opened my mouth to ask how in the Kingdom he’d know something like that and then decided I didn’t want that question answered. I didn’t want to know if he was just making this all up as he went along. Silently, I followed Doshir further along the path. The cozy little house faded behind a row of stately pine trees. Their needles whispered as we walked beneath, and the jagged black peaks of the Knife’s Edge rose behind them.

“And, here,” Doshir said, gesturing to the path before him as though he were inviting me into a grand ballroom.

I followed the path past Doshir and around the last pine tree. And then I stopped, struck dumb for once in my life.

Doshir hadn’t been kidding. All of Cairncliff lay below me, spread out like gems on black velvet. Noble’s Hill tilted away beneath us, ringed with streetlights and the orange flicker of lamps and fires through distant windows. Snatches of music drifted up through the night air along with the occasional cry of surprise or laughter. I could even smell food, some kind of rich, roasting meat, carried in erratic gusts and mingled with the distant brine of the slowly undulating ocean.

Gravel crunched behind me as Doshir came to stand next to me. His hand very gently brushed the small of my back. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but words abandoned me entirely. Doshir raised his arm.

“That’s the harbor, of course,” he said, pointing to the ocean. “The pleasure boats moor on the southern end, near the beach. There’s a breakwater along the northern edge, and that’s where most of the actual work takes place. And the crime, too, of course.”

I nodded mutely, following the path Doshir was tracing across the sprawling splendor of Cairncliff. He had nice hands, I thought, with long, delicate fingers.

“The city walls come all the way to the ocean, but of course there’s a gap for the Spirit Wood,” he continued. The distant moon gave his face a faint silver cast, and for a moment I felt like he could almost be a painting, with his high cheekbones, full lips, and dark, tousled hair.

“The Spirit Wood curves through town, hugging the ten hills of Cairncliff,” he continued, oblivious to the way my gaze had drifted from the view before me to the man standing beside me. “And there’s my shop, just below Noble’s Hill.”

He turned toward me. I realized with a jolt of heat just how close we were. He’d walked beside me, and I’d leaned in to follow where he was pointing, and now we were so close that his scent swirled in the air between us.

“It— It’s—” I stammered, trying to grasp the right words.

I gave up. I kissed him instead.

CHAPTER NINE

Doshir

I had just long enough to think she couldn’t possibly kiss before Rayne's lips touched mine and my world exploded. That burst of lightning that had seared my skin when I’d grabbed her arm on the front steps of my shop raced through my body again, this time bringing a delirious flush of pleasure. I felt like I was drunk, blissfully, hopelessly drunk and dancing beneath the full summer moon. I leaned forward, wanting more, but Rayne pulled back.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the space between us.

She was smiling up at me with an expression that was almost shy, as though she’d just come back to her senses.

“I— You’re welcome,” I replied. “You’re quite welcome.”

Her gaze seemed to catch on something over my shoulder, and the ghost of a frown played across her lips. “Are those the Knife’s Edge mountains?”

I turned, following the path of her eyes. “Yes. Those are the Knife’s Edge. The only roads in or out of Cairncliff go over those mountains.”

And I really needed to get my ass over there and talk to Mad Scarlett, I thought, as guilt turned over unpleasantly in my gut.

“Oh.” Rayne stepped closer to me. Her skirt enveloped my legs. “They look dangerous.”

“Yes, they can be,” I agreed, trying to ignore the way my cock was starting to pulse with a low, needy throb. “The roads are pretty safe, but the mountains themselves are full of all kinds of nasty things. Goblins, criminals.”

“Dragons?” she asked.

Her eyes sparkled, and her voice sounded almost teasing. She moved just a touch closer; her hand seemed to wind itself around my waist of its own accord, like a vine creeping up a rough stone wall.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I replied, attempting to ignore the soft pressure of her arm against my body. “There is a dragon in those mountains.”