What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(22)

After putting the puppy outside, he’d explained to her as if she were some servant girl, “First comb it for me, love. Carefully. Don’t want you to pull any hairs out, simply get out the tangles.” But he didn’t stop there. “Then three hundred strokes of the brush—each side gets a hundred and then one hundred for the back.”

After he’d explained all that, he’d relaxed in the chair with a fur casually tossed over his naked lap, appearing as if it could and would drop off at any second.

It briefly crossed Dagmar’s mind to use the eating knife she kept tucked in her leather girdle to cut his throat, but that would not be in the best interest of her people. And, more importantly, her. So, instead, she took the ivory comb her father brought back from one of his raids and began to carefully untangle the dragon’s hair. It reached to the floor, so this was no easy task.

Even worse, he never shut up.

Dagmar didn’t know any being on the planet could talk as much as this one dragon. He talked and talked and then talked some more.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have minded so much if he actually said something of interest. The spark of hope she’d had when he mentioned knowing Aoibhell was quickly extinguished. How had the great philosopher that Dagmar based most of her belief system on tolerated an entire dinner with this … this … dragon? He seemed only to manage inane babble about all the women he’d known, which apparently were many!

Eventually Dagmar exchanged the comb for her brush, and that’s when the groaning started and, tragically, did not stop.

“That feels wonderful,” he’d sighed out at one point. “Have you thought of doing this for a living? You’re very good.”

Dagmar kept silent and went through the first one hundred strokes. When she started on the second side, she didn’t think the dragon would notice if she’d brushed fifty times or fifteen hundred. She was wrong.

“That was only seventy-five, love,” he’d told her when she started to move to the back. “Another twenty-five and you’ll be done with that. Then you can do the back.”

Again, she considered killing him but thought better of it.

Three hundred strokes later, Dagmar slammed the brush down. Now to the task of braiding all this hair!

Dagmar began braiding it and was halfway down his back when she said, “It would help with the rest if you’d stand.”

“All right.”

He stood, and Dagmar was greeted with that naked ass. That magnificent naked ass, if she did say so herself. His front had been exquisite, but his back was … reason help her.

“Think you could wrap the fur around you completely?” She feared she may start petting his ass the way she’d petted the puppy’s head.

“I could. But isn’t your question more of a ‘do I want to’?”

“You do know that I and my eating knife have access to much back here and—”

She didn’t even have to finish before he quickly wrapped the fur completely around his hips.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said sweetly.

“Welcome,” he grumbled back.

It took her a bit, but eventually she finished braiding all that golden hair and tied a leather thong to the end. When Dagmar stood, her fingers ached from the task, and the dragon turned to find her flexing her fingers.

He reached for her hand. “Need help with that?”

“No,” she told him, pulling her hand away before he could grasp it. “There are clothes for you—in your room. Evening meal is in another hour. Until then, stay away from the dogs.”

“I will.” He took a step toward her. “This has all been very kind of you, my lady. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Another step. “Perhaps you could come to my room and help me dress.”

She pressed one finger against his chest and the dragon stopped in midstride. “What are you doing?”

His smile was shameless. “What I always do.”

“Well, don’t do it with me.”

“Are you sure? I’m known for my skills.”

“And I’m sure that’s the only skill you possess. But in the Northland, women, including the servant girls, are given proper respect. Do not think because of how their husbands may treat them that anyone, especially an outsider, may do the same.”

“I have no plans to harm you, my lady.”

“I’m sure you don’t. But don’t think because you’re a dragon my brothers will show you any fear. So if you hope for your manhood to stay intact, you’d best watch your step.”

His grin, the absolute beauty of it, lit up the room. “What are you trying to tell me, my lady?”

“I’m telling you to keep your c**k in your pants and your hands to yourself.” She walked to the door and pulled it open, a tense Canute jumping to his large feet, ready to defend her honor. “Take it as a friendly warning.”

“Did you just tell me to keep my c**k in my pants?”

Dagmar ignored him and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She was halfway down the hall when she turned right around and walked back. She knocked, and the dragon opened the door.

“It’s my room you’re in,” she snarled.

His laughter made her jaw clench. “I was wondering when you were going to notice.”