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Dragon Soul(12)

By:Katie MacAlister


"You know her better than I do," Mrs. P said, addressing him. "Is she refusing to admit the truth, or is she just ignorant?"

"Hey!" Sophea said, pausing in the act of buttering another roll. "Let's  keep the name calling to a minimum. And just for the record, Rowan does  not know me. We just met on the plane, remember?"

Rowan studied Sophea. He liked her face. It was what people referred to  as heart-shaped, but softened, so her chin didn't look pointy. Her eyes  were deep set, but with a little tilt that belied her mixed ancestry.  Her hair was a rich shade of brown that reminded him of the chocolate  they'd just been mentioning-it hung to her shoulders, a rippling curtain  of silk that drew him like no other woman's hair had.

For a moment, the idea of her straddling him, her hair teasing his naked  flesh, flashed through his head, but he quickly stifled such  inappropriate thoughts and tried to remember what the conversation was  about.

"Er …  do I have something on my face?" Sophea asked, becoming aware of his scrutiny.

"Eh? Ah, no. My apologies for staring. I was considering what I knew of  you and why you would try to make us think that Zeus wasn't a real  person."

She gawked at him, and it was so genuine, he had a niggle of suspicion  that she wasn't faking her reaction. "Oh, come on, now. You're not going  to start with that weird stuff that the others are doing, are you?"

"What weird stuff?"

She nodded toward Mrs. P. "She told me she knew who my husband was  despite the fact that Jian had only come to the U.S. once, and then he  was killed. And she said some pretty odd things about him. She said he  was a dragon." She gave a short laugh. "A dragon! Have you ever heard  anything that crazy? It's right up there with insisting that a mythical  Greek god is alive."

"The Greek pantheon are demigods, not full gods, I believe," Rowan  answered, wondering what she had to gain by refusing to admit the  obvious. She must know that he wasn't fooled. Perhaps if he made it  absolutely clear that he knew just who and what she was, she'd drop the  pretense. He had a feeling he'd like her a whole lot more if she stopped  pretending.

She snorted. "Right, of course they are. Because why wouldn't they be?"

"Just as you are a dragon's mate. A red dragon's mate, one whom the  silver wyvern says was not tainted by demons." He met her gaze squarely,  hoping she could read the sincerity in his eyes. "I understand what you  are doing, but you should know that the act isn't necessary. I have no  fight with the dragonkin …  quite the opposite, actually, since I've been  engaged to help them, not to mention my history with the First Dragon."

She stared at him for the count of eight, then gave a little shake of  her head. "And you look so very sane. Sadly, you're just as cracked as  the rest. Well, fine, be that way. If you guys want to insist that the  unreal is real, you go right ahead. But I'm just going to ignore it."

"Why are you … " He stopped, and looked at Mrs. P.

She shrugged. "She is as she is. I cannot change it."

"Are you saying she's telling the truth?"

"Hey!" Sophea said, indignation causing her lips to thin. "I'm sitting right here, you know."

"Possibly," Mrs. P said, just as if Sophea had not spoken. "It's difficult to tell, and really, I don't see that it matters."

"I have the horrible feeling that one of you is calling me a liar," Sophea said through apparently gritted teeth.

"If she is telling the truth … " Rowan fully considered this previous  suspicion. If that was the case, then it changed everything. Or did it?

"Yoo hoo!" Mrs. P, obviously tired of the conversation, dipped her  knobby fingers into her water glass, and flicked the water at a  middle-aged man sitting by himself at the table next to them. "You  there, in the blue. Yes, you. Do you like older women?"         

     



 

"You're about to get a swift kick to the shin, buster," Sophea told  Rowan. "How dare you imply I'd lie? I never lie! It's a personal policy  of mine, one that I started when I was a little girl at the orphanage  and had to be nice to people who might want to adopt me. Do you have any  idea the sorts of people who want to adopt plump half-Asian girls? Let  me tell you, they aren't the cream of the crop."

Mrs. P leaned out of her chair at a perilous angle, the better to speak  to the now-startled man at the next table. "You look like you have lots  of energy. Limber, too."

"Er … " the man said, glancing around as if for help, but the other few  people in the dining room were focused on their own affairs.

"Everyone lies at some point or other," Rowan told Sophea. He wasn't  sure what to believe about her now. Either she was a very good actress  or she was as innocent as she professed. But even if she was the latter,  would she stay that way for very long once she knew the truth about  what Mrs. P had in her possession?

"I don't," Sophea insisted.

"Not even a white lie to keep from hurting someone's feelings?"

"Not even then. I'd find some other way to get around being hurtful."

Mrs. P leaned so far out of her chair that Sophea had to grab her to  keep her from toppling to the floor. "What's your name, handsome?"

"Edvard," the man said in a pronounced Scandinavian accent. He scooted  his chair a little farther away from Mrs. P and tried to focus on his  meal.

"So you're telling me in all honesty-because you never prevaricate-that  you are not a red dragon?" Rowan asked, the twisting conversation making  him feel like he was a dog chasing its own tail.

"Edvard is a nice name. I bet a handsome, limber fellow like you would like to make a crisp, new American dollar, hmm?"

"Of course I'm not-" Mrs. P's words must have registered with Sophea  because she suddenly stopped speaking and gave an outraged, "Mrs. P! You  are not to solicit others. I thought we had that clear earlier at the  L.A. airport when you tried to sit on that young man's lap."

"My beau does not mind, if that is what you are thinking," Mrs. P said,  and pulled a dollar bill from her pocket, which she waggled at the  unfortunate Edvard. "He only cares about his world, not this one. I will  be faithful to him there, but here, anything goes."

Rowan couldn't help but admire the old woman's moxie as she waggled two tufted white cotton ball eyebrows at the unwary diner.

"Please, behave yourself," Sophea said, pulling Mrs. P's chair a bit  closer to her. "If you harass that poor man, we'll have to have dinner  in our room. It's much nicer to have it here with Rowan, even if he did  call me a big fat liar."

"I said nothing of the sort," Rowan protested. "I did not call you a big  fat anything-for the record, I happen to like women with curves, and in  fact, think you are quite attractive-and I didn't call you a liar. I  simply asked Mrs. P if she thought you were …  er … "

"Telling the truth," Sophea finished triumphantly. "Which is another way  of saying a liar. Well, I'm not, as I said. So you can just move on,  and Mrs. P, so help me, if I catch you trying to seduce anyone else, I  will march straight upstairs and take everything out of your luggage and  give the stuff back to their rightful owners."

Mrs. P stopped blowing kisses to Edvard and gave Sophea a sour look.  "You have no sense of fun. I hope your man takes care of your needs so  that you aren't so cranky all the time."

Sophea gaped at her for a few seconds before transferring her astounded expression to Rowan.

He gave her a smile, and without realizing it, said, "Let me know if you need cheering up."

"I …  you … " Her eyes narrowed. "Did you just proposition me?"

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Apparently I did. Or rather, my mouth  did. Wholly without permission, I should add. I'm desperately tired, you  see, and I think I'm at that stage where my brain has given up the  ghost and is allowing me to say whatever I want without consideration of  whether it's appropriate or not. I humbly apologize, and hope you will  forgive a sleep-deprived man for a careless thought."

Sophea, to his surprise, did not continue glaring at him, nor did she  read him the riot act that he deserved. Instead, a curious expression  crossed her face, part amusement and part a wistful something that  suddenly made him want to be heroic. "Apology accepted. I'm a bit  jet-laggy, myself, and I know how it can be when your mouth runs off  with you. And actually, you didn't say anything offensive. At least,  that part wasn't offensive. The whole thing about me lying is another  point."         

     



 

"You really don't know that you're a dragon's mate?" he couldn't help but ask.

"How can I be a dragon's mate when my husband wasn't a dragon?" Sophea  asked with another little shake of her head. She gestured toward  herself. "He was perfectly human-shaped. As am I. I know I'm not any  great shakes so far as looks go-thank you for the compliment, by the  way-but do I look like a giant scaly she-beast?"