He roared in the face of his enemies. Spit flew from his lips, landing on the horned helm of the nearest dwarf. Drawing upon his power, he focused his call on the lava. A headache blurred his vision with the effort. Spilling the liquid stone across the room from the stream, he encased the closest of the living intruders in molten heat. Their magical armor would survive, but not their exposed flesh. The dwarf screamed and flung himself through the gate.
Ishi sucked in a deep breath and blinked his vision back into focus. Had he given himself an aneurysm?
The scent of roasted dwarf filled the air. Maybe Urgle was hungry?
Something would have to be done about the dwarven colony usurping the goblin hoards. He didn’t care for either race, but the goblins were stupid and easier to manage.
Breathing heavy, Sandra clung to the rock wall. She stared with wide eyes at the cooling glob by the gate. “You fight like this all the time?”
Shrugging, he stepped forward and blocked her view. “This was a small skirmish.” He tilted his head as he watched the color drain from her face. “I’m a gatekeeper. It’s my job.” He stood in a shallow pool of lava, his scales designed for this hot liquid. “Careful.” A small drop would sizzle right through her delicate body.
He had almost sent the flood of lava into his treasure room where he had left her. Fool. He could have killed her.
An aftershock shook the room. Stumbling forward, she wheeled her arms, trying to maintain her precarious balance.
Time slowed as his searing heart froze. As if having a mind of its own, his tail snaked out to catch her, but it dragged with the weight of an impaled dead dwarf still stuck on the barbed end.
The lava wasn’t deep; however, it would sizzle the flesh off her bones.
She let out a high-pitched shriek and tumbled forward.
His lungs seized as he stretched forward, doing a belly flop, to have her land on his face, his mouth, anything else but the lava.
He heard nothing and opened his eyes, surprised to find they were closed.
Sandra hovered over the liquid fire. A thick green arm was wrapped around her waist.
Ishi’s gaze met Urgle’s.
The goblin set her back on her feet, far from the ledge. “I do good?”
The dragon nodded, still sprawled across the receding lava pool. “You did great!”
The goblin grinned. “Okay.”
“Give me time to think of a good reward for you.” He rose to his feet and brushed off his dignity. He was a dragon, not some lounging hound dog.
“Okay.” His pet ambled back toward the work area where he had set him up to work on wind chimes.
Ishi eyed Sandra. “Did any land on you?” He couldn’t touch her like he wanted while still covered in the molten stone. “A drop splash on you?”
“I–I’m fine. Just shaken.” She reached for his snout.
“Don’t. I’m still too hot.”
She jerked away, but a secret smile pulled at her lips.
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You were worried about me.”
His grin matched hers. “I know. Who would have guessed?”
Not her.
With her soul leaping and whooping at Ishi’s statement, Sandra struggled to keep from grinning like a grade school girl. He cared about her. She had traveled halfway around the world, ready to battle a dragon if need be, and instead, he’d swept her off her feet.
Her heart throbbed with a dull ache. She’d almost forgotten what happy felt like.
“Urgle.” He called down the hallway after the goblin who had just saved her life. “Before you go, I need a hand with this.” He plunked his tail onto the ground next to where she stood. A dead, half-charred person was impaled on the tip.
Her tender heart took a nosedive into her stomach, sending a back splash up her throat. She pivoted, falling to her knees, and gagged on her last meal. Oh God, when did she cross over to the Twilight Zone? Dragon lover? Goblin savior? Roasted dwarf? Finally, nothing was left in her stomach and only dry heaves remained.
She listened to Urgle’s grunt as if he struggled with something heavy, but she refused to glance over her shoulder. Could someone theoretically vomit their stomach out? It sure seemed like she was close.
Something wet plopped on the ground and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Pull the axe out of my shoulder now,” Ishi instructed his pet. More grunting, followed by the ping of metal hitting stone. He sighed. “That’s better. Take away the body. I don’t care what you do with it, but keep it out of her sight.” She sensed Ishi kneeling next to her before he brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m as bad as the goblins. Isolation tends to make manners unnecessary.” He gathered her into his human arms, the skin of his bare chest still heated from the lava.
“I’m okay. I’m just not used to–to…” She glanced around the gateroom with the cooling lava on the floor already turning into stone. “This.” Plopping her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “Don’t you ever get tired of fighting?”
“No.” He stared at her as if she’d grown an extra eye in her forehead.
“Afraid?”
He grunted. “Of what?” He scooped her in his arms and carried her toward his bedroom.
“Nothing frightens you?”
His step faltered. “It scared me when you almost fell.” The intensity of his stare weighed heavy upon her. “You need to stay away from this room. The need to protect you makes me sloppy.” He gestured with his chin at his shoulder.
With her hand, she explored the spot and found it slick with something wet. She glared at the blood on her fingertips. “You’re hurt.” She wiggled in his arms. “Put me down.”
“I’m trying. Stop squirming.”
She half fell, half landed on her feet, but none of that mattered. Skirting around him, she saw the wound on his back, close to his shoulder blade. “Oh dear, you need stitches.”
He twisted his back so he could get a better view. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine. Little bugger almost clipped my wing, though. That would have pissed me off.” Rubbing his stomach, he turned to face her. “Nothing like a good fight to make a dragon hungry.”
She made a face. “There’s charred dwarf.”
“Too chewy.” He took her hands in his. “I promised you sushi.”
She made a worse face. Raw fish was for cats. “That’s a promise I could bear to be broken.”
His grin grew wider and his eyelids heavier as he drew closer. “What if I promise to feed you by hand?”
“As long as you wash them.”
He burst into laughter. “Done. First, a shower.” He eyed her I Dream of Jeannie outfit and gave a sad sigh. “You should change.”
She nodded and strode into his bedroom. Her jeans were still wet, so she returned to his trunk of clothes. What would she find next?
Strong hands snaked around her waist, spinning her to face him. “Before you change, make them chime for me again.” He stared at the metal disks hanging from her breasts, and ran his hands along her sides. The carnal hunger in his gaze placed her nipples on the hard setting. If his smolder grew any hotter, she’d melt in his arms.
She was pathetic.
But happy.
She chimed her boobs with a good shake and couldn’t help but laugh as a smug grin spread across his face. “They’re not toys.”
He snorted with an accent of a dragon. “Says you.” He cupped them with a firm grip. “I could play all day. On second thought, maybe we should get take-out.”
“That sounds nice.” She leaned into his touch. “Before we devolve into grunting animals, I need to use the phone.”
“I like grunting.” He pinched her nipple, sending a hot streak of desire straight to her core.