The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(54)

As soon as Rhona and Vigholf reached the town, they separated. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t ask. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Vigholf had kissed her. He didn’t seem angry, which she appreciated, but she never saw that kiss coming. And when it did, it took her completely by surprise. So she’d ended up just sitting there, feeling confused and foolish and annoyingly warm. But . . . what else could she do? For five years the dragon had done nothing but obsess over her spear and get in her way. Now he was kissing her—while on horseback. Acting as if he meant that kiss. As if kissing her was the most important thing in the entire world . . .

No, no, no! She didn’t want to think about this. She was hungry and had things to do. So she went and replenished their supplies and eventual y settled down at a busy pub for that hot meal.

A few bowls of stew later, the Northlander arrived. He wore the hood of his cape pul ed down far on his head, hiding his purple hair. But he couldn’t hide his size. The males instantly fel into an uneasy silence and the women . . . wel , no matter the species, Rhona could see lust miles away.

He sat down on the wood bench across from her and motioned to a barmaid. “Ale and stew. Some bread, too.” The woman smiled sweetly at him before turning to Rhona. “More food for you?” Rhona sucked her tongue against her teeth in warning and the barmaid walked off.

“Get what we need?” Vigholf asked, and she was quite relieved that he was final y talking to her.

“I got enough to last me at least two weeks. But with you along, I’m guessing we’l need more food in another day or two.” He shrugged and began eating the bread she had left.

“What have you been up to?”

“Tel you later,” he muttered, leaning back as food was placed in front of him.

“Al right, but I was thinking we could—” Another bowl of stew was dropped in front of Rhona and it was fil ed to the brim.

“You seem so hungry,” the barmaid said by way of explanation.

Rhona’s eyes narrowed onto the bitchy little service worker, but Vigholf made her smile a little when he said around a mouthful of food, “I like a female with an appetite.”

Once the barmaid had gone off, Rhona asked, “Want me to get us a couple of rooms for the night? They have space upstairs.”

“No,” he replied, completely focused on his food.

“No?”

“No.”

“You want to spend another night outside when we have a perfectly acceptable pub? Why?”

“Because you’d rather sleep under the stars.”

“What?”

“You’re just as happy on the ground, looking up at the sky. Right?”

It took a moment for Rhona to understand what he was talking about, but then she laughed. “You’re throwing my drunken words back at me?”

“Only when I like them. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at al .” Rhona had never real y liked staying in pubs or inns. She always felt trapped by the wal s, but her kin had always felt completely different on that point.

Rhona watched the dragon eat. Although it was more like inhaling than an actual act of putting food in one’s mouth and chewing. Yet it seemed to work for him. And, knowing that one serving would never satisfy Vigholf, Rhona pushed her bowl of stew across the table and let him devour that as wel .

Once Vigholf finished eating, they headed back to where they had left the horses. Separating from Rhona for a bit had been a good idea. It had al owed him to get his reason back. Although he didn’t regret kissing Rhona, he now realized he’d have to handle this with much more finesse.

Something he knew he could manage . . . with a lot of effort. But, stil . . . manageable.

“So what did you do in town?” Rhona asked once they were wel on the road.

“Got information,” he said, final y able to pul the hood of his cape off his head. It had begun to annoy him.

“Information? I thought you’d never been to this town before.”

“I haven’t, but you can always find out information. You just need to know the kind of places to go and the kind of people to ask.”

“I’m impressed. I always seem to be the last one anyone sends out for information.”

“Because you’re such a soldier that you can’t help but look like you’re interrogating someone.” She laughed. “Thank you very much!”

He bumped her with his elbow. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You didn’t mean that I’m a vil ainous soldier that terrifies the poor townsfolk with my intimidating demeanor?”

“Wel . . . you’re not vil ainous.”

“So what did you find out?” she asked, surprised that hadn’t been the first question out of her mouth. Gods, who knew the Northlander could be so bloody distracting? Especial y when al she wanted to do was demand to know what the hel s that kiss had been about.

“We’re on the right track. Three females were seen coming through town, dressed as travelers, on foot, but they sounded so large and wel armed, they had to be Annwyl, Izzy, and Branwen.”

She laughed. “When the Cadwaladrs don’t breed them big, they mate with the big ones. Usual y.” She adjusted the pack she carried. “How long since they went through?”