How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 56
So Éibhear shrugged. “Figured why not?”
Her head tilted to the side. “Figured why not?”
“Yeah.”
And that’s when a book flew at him, slamming into his forehead. The power of it had him stumbling back against the table and he placed his hand where the book had met flesh and bone. He glanced down at the book and asked, “You threw The Ancient Philosophies of Seòras at me? Do you have any idea how old this book is? And why the hell are you throwing books at me anyway? What did I do?”
“You exist! I think you exist just to torment me.”
“You started this, Iseabail.”
“I started nothing. I asked you a simple question and you went all Éibhear the Terrified on me. As usual.” She stalked toward him. “And that’s when I decided, ‘Fine. I’m done with this.’ And in typical Éibhear fashion, that’s when you decide, ‘Eh. I might as well kiss her. Couldn’t ’urt.”
“First off, that’s not how I sound.” Gods! She made him sound like a bloody halfwit. “And second—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hear it. That’s all you bloody do. Talk!”
Seething now because he had no idea what he’d done, Éibhear growled out between clenched teeth, “You, of all beings in this universe, have the nerve of accusing me of talking too much?”
“At least I have something to say.”
“No, you don’t! You babble. Constantly! Until my bloody ears bleed!”
That’s when she swung on him. But this time, he was kind of expecting that move, so he caught her arm and flipped her back on the table. She kicked him in the jaw, and gods! The woman’s legs were damn powerful. If he were truly human, his head would have been separated from his neck from that blow.
Éibhear stepped back, black smoke swirling from his nostrils, a low growl rolling past his lips as he gripped his jaw and popped it back into place. By the time he was done, Izzy had placed her hands behind her and flipped her body backward so that she landed on the other side of the table.
“Running?” he couldn’t help but taunt. “The great general of Queen Annwyl’s armies?”
“You should know by now, Éibhear the Ridiculous, I don’t run.”
Then a wooden chair came flying at his head. Éibhear leaned back and the chair careened past him and into the far wall, breaking into pieces on contact.
“You’ll have to explain that bloody chair to Bram,” he told her.
“I’ll tell him it was your fault. He’ll believe me.” She grinned. “They all do.”
Their gazes locked and they watched each other, for how long, Éibhear didn’t know. But then he saw her eyes briefly stray to where they’d placed their weapons while they ate. At the same moment, they were both running, heading for those piles of weapons. Izzy was fast, her long legs getting her to the pile quickly. But he was fast, too, leaping over the table and slamming into her just as she reached out for an axe. His axe!
Éibhear lifted her off her feet and swung her around. He had her arms pinned, but her legs were free and the damn woman kicked like a psychotic mule. She brought her head back, ramming it into his chin, almost dislodging his jaw again.
Fed up, Éibhear spun Izzy around and slammed her into the wall, pinning her there with his body.
Panting, the pair stared at each other until Izzy asked, “Ready to kiss me now?”
The dragon’s silver eyes narrowed on her. “I see how you’ve come so far in the human armies, Iseabail. Because you’re completely insane.”
She laughed, her tongue reaching out and swiping up blood that leaked from her split lip. “I may have heard that accusation before, but I refuse to accept or acknowledge it. Now kiss me . . . or get the battle-fuck off me, Éibhear the Blue.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth and she saw his brain turning while he, as always, agonized over his decision. She imagined he couldn’t be like this in battle or even with other women. She just didn’t know why he insisted on being so obsessively concerned for her.
“Waiting,” she pushed, the one word no more than a snarl.
That’s when he released her, Izzy’s drop to the floor a little unsettling since he hadn’t even lifted her up all the way to eye level.
“And you can keep waiting,” he shot back seconds before he turned away from her and headed toward the stairs.
Smirking, Izzy watched him.
“Éibhear?”
Fed up, Éibhear spun around to face the unhinged female that he was trapped in this bloody castle with for the night.
“What is—” he just managed to get out before a piece of the broken chair rammed into his leg bone. The pain of it shocked him and he automatically dropped to one knee. Then Izzy was there, her strong hand gripping him by his jaw.
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she said.
Then she kissed him.
Not a silly, girlish kiss or even an angry, biting kiss. But a demanding, passionate kiss that tore the breath from his lungs and did to him exactly what he’d always feared. Tore any control or rational thought he’d believed himself to possess completely away from him.
Damn her!
She pulled away first, stepping back, a triumphant smile on her face. “There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Her head tilted to the side. “Figured why not?”
“Yeah.”
And that’s when a book flew at him, slamming into his forehead. The power of it had him stumbling back against the table and he placed his hand where the book had met flesh and bone. He glanced down at the book and asked, “You threw The Ancient Philosophies of Seòras at me? Do you have any idea how old this book is? And why the hell are you throwing books at me anyway? What did I do?”
“You exist! I think you exist just to torment me.”
“You started this, Iseabail.”
“I started nothing. I asked you a simple question and you went all Éibhear the Terrified on me. As usual.” She stalked toward him. “And that’s when I decided, ‘Fine. I’m done with this.’ And in typical Éibhear fashion, that’s when you decide, ‘Eh. I might as well kiss her. Couldn’t ’urt.”
“First off, that’s not how I sound.” Gods! She made him sound like a bloody halfwit. “And second—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hear it. That’s all you bloody do. Talk!”
Seething now because he had no idea what he’d done, Éibhear growled out between clenched teeth, “You, of all beings in this universe, have the nerve of accusing me of talking too much?”
“At least I have something to say.”
“No, you don’t! You babble. Constantly! Until my bloody ears bleed!”
That’s when she swung on him. But this time, he was kind of expecting that move, so he caught her arm and flipped her back on the table. She kicked him in the jaw, and gods! The woman’s legs were damn powerful. If he were truly human, his head would have been separated from his neck from that blow.
Éibhear stepped back, black smoke swirling from his nostrils, a low growl rolling past his lips as he gripped his jaw and popped it back into place. By the time he was done, Izzy had placed her hands behind her and flipped her body backward so that she landed on the other side of the table.
“Running?” he couldn’t help but taunt. “The great general of Queen Annwyl’s armies?”
“You should know by now, Éibhear the Ridiculous, I don’t run.”
Then a wooden chair came flying at his head. Éibhear leaned back and the chair careened past him and into the far wall, breaking into pieces on contact.
“You’ll have to explain that bloody chair to Bram,” he told her.
“I’ll tell him it was your fault. He’ll believe me.” She grinned. “They all do.”
Their gazes locked and they watched each other, for how long, Éibhear didn’t know. But then he saw her eyes briefly stray to where they’d placed their weapons while they ate. At the same moment, they were both running, heading for those piles of weapons. Izzy was fast, her long legs getting her to the pile quickly. But he was fast, too, leaping over the table and slamming into her just as she reached out for an axe. His axe!
Éibhear lifted her off her feet and swung her around. He had her arms pinned, but her legs were free and the damn woman kicked like a psychotic mule. She brought her head back, ramming it into his chin, almost dislodging his jaw again.
Fed up, Éibhear spun Izzy around and slammed her into the wall, pinning her there with his body.
Panting, the pair stared at each other until Izzy asked, “Ready to kiss me now?”
The dragon’s silver eyes narrowed on her. “I see how you’ve come so far in the human armies, Iseabail. Because you’re completely insane.”
She laughed, her tongue reaching out and swiping up blood that leaked from her split lip. “I may have heard that accusation before, but I refuse to accept or acknowledge it. Now kiss me . . . or get the battle-fuck off me, Éibhear the Blue.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth and she saw his brain turning while he, as always, agonized over his decision. She imagined he couldn’t be like this in battle or even with other women. She just didn’t know why he insisted on being so obsessively concerned for her.
“Waiting,” she pushed, the one word no more than a snarl.
That’s when he released her, Izzy’s drop to the floor a little unsettling since he hadn’t even lifted her up all the way to eye level.
“And you can keep waiting,” he shot back seconds before he turned away from her and headed toward the stairs.
Smirking, Izzy watched him.
“Éibhear?”
Fed up, Éibhear spun around to face the unhinged female that he was trapped in this bloody castle with for the night.
“What is—” he just managed to get out before a piece of the broken chair rammed into his leg bone. The pain of it shocked him and he automatically dropped to one knee. Then Izzy was there, her strong hand gripping him by his jaw.
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she said.
Then she kissed him.
Not a silly, girlish kiss or even an angry, biting kiss. But a demanding, passionate kiss that tore the breath from his lungs and did to him exactly what he’d always feared. Tore any control or rational thought he’d believed himself to possess completely away from him.
Damn her!
She pulled away first, stepping back, a triumphant smile on her face. “There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
