Dragon's Confession: Lords of the Dragon Islands, #1

Dragon’s Confession ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2017

ISBN: 9781386720775

Dragon’s Treasure: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

Dragon’s Successor: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2016

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author, Isadora Montrose.

Warning: These books contain sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

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SEXY SNEAK PEEK

Victor metamorphosed swiftly. He was showing off for her. But he was justly proud of his hard won and rapid changes. Of course, a sword bearer confined to barracks when not on duty, had a lot of extra time to polish his transformations.

His real skill was in accomplishing his metamorphosis in the blink of an eye, while retaining more than ninety percent of his energy in mortal or in dragon. Changes were an enormous energy suck. Already he was ravenous, but he had lots of stamina left – in case they were attacked by sand fleas or burrowing crabs. Or she needed his services.

Ingrid’s mewls had changed to outraged bellows. He looked over his shoulder. She was still huddled on the sand. Her head remained in dragon as did her feet. The rest was human. She looked pissed. And she smelled scared. She was obviously in pain.

He bent over her murmuring encouragement. You can do this, sweetheart. You are almost done. Imagine your hair streaming over your shoulders.

She tried to bite him. His reflexes took over and he leaped six feet in the air. Cut that out, he ordered when he landed.

Strong he might be, but driven by her powerful jaws, those needle sharp teeth would puncture his skin and slice through muscle like a hot knife through butter. Ingrid was cute, but she was no kitten.

With a last roar, she returned to human. The narrow line of triangular bumps gradually merged into the satiny bumps of her human spine. She was sweaty. Her braid was gone and in its place she had a tangle of damp and salty curls.

She was more lovely than she had been at sixteen. Her hips were fuller, her bottom lusher. Her breasts more generous. Her bush had darkened from platinum to gold. He gawked.

Get me a towel, she snapped.

How’s your ankle?

She was squatting on both feet. Fine, I guess.

Was it worth the agony of turning?

I suppose. How come it doesn’t hurt you?

I’ve had years to get over the growing pains. He kept his tones businesslike even though his pits were damp and his skin prickled just looking at her. To say nothing of his boner. I’m going to take you straight to your room. We should evaluate that joint before you put more stress on it.

You could have gotten a towel first, she grumbled when he had her balanced in his arms. She put her right hand over his tat. It’s hot, she said in surprise.

Hmm.

Half-way up the staircase she asked, So do all dragons have that double dong action?

Note to the Reader

Welcome to the exotic, international world of my romantic, billionaire Lords of the Dragon Islands. No matter where in the series you start, I promise you a smoking hot read with a complete adventure and a guaranteed HEA and no cliffhangers.

To connect with me, send me an email to: i[email protected] or sign up for my newsletter at isadoramontrose.com/newletter for notification of upcoming works and new releases.

There is a complete list of my books at the end of this book, after the preview chapters.

You are about to burn up with delight! Enjoy!

Isadora

DRAGON’S CONFESSION

BOOK 1

LORDS OF THE DRAGON ISLANDS

by

Isadora Montrose

CHAPTER ONE

Six years earlier, Chateau Lind, Loire du Bois

He pulled her behind the door where no one could see them and planted an inexpert kiss on her lips. Ingrid von Schwalm wound her arms around Victor’s neck and kissed him back. When his tongue asked for entrance, she opened her mouth and tasted him.

It wasn’t her first kiss. Not even her first French kiss. But apparently it was Victor Lindorm’s first. But he made up for his lack of skill with husky murmurs and brute enthusiasm. When he raised his head his eyes were unfocused. She wasn’t a giggler, but she giggled.

He placed her hand over his heart. You are the one, he declared.

Ingrid peeked up at him through her lashes. He was so intense. In the last two days this blond giant had tugged her into a dozen of the alcoves and niches that formed part of this sixteenth century castle. Each time he had uttered versions of the same desperate phrase.

Her trouble was that she was beginning to believe him. Could fate intend her to find her one true love already? Was she destined to marry a dragon after all? To become a dragoness? Her father would be ecstatic. She needed to be careful of this handsome boy.

Victor’s phone beeped. He turned scarlet and answered it promptly. He spoke rapidly and respectfully into it before turning it off. I’m sorry, Ingrid. I have duties. Forgive me. Do you know the way to where you were going?

She nodded. The Chateau Lind is a big place, but no larger than the Schloss Schwalm. I’ll be fine.

He bowed as if she were a princess. Pressed a hard kiss on her lips. Later. He was gone before she had her eyes open.

That evening after dinner when the house guests were gathered in Lady Lindorm’s music room for an impromptu recital, Victor sang a credible accompaniment to one of his aunts’ piano playing. He executed the lyrics in flawless German. It was an old love song, but he sang it for her, in the language of her homeland. At least that’s what her heart thought.

Vater nudged her when the song was over and a laughing group of giant Lindorms were arranging themselves into a chorus. Would you fetch my reading glasses, please? he asked.

Of course. She glanced at the front of the room. Victor was already gone. He kept telling her that he had duties. And it seemed to be true. He was always vanishing. She smiled as she slipped past the rest of the audience and went for her father’s glasses.

Victor followed her up the curving staircase. Where are you headed? This isn’t the way to your room.

My father needs his glasses.

I will come with you.

Don’t you have duties?

He shrugged. I have to play the violin later. Do you know where your father’s room is?

She grinned at him. Lady Lindorm put him in the Chinese room.

His brows rose. Obviously he had recognized that the Graf von Schwalm was a highly honored guest. I know a shortcut.

Of course he did. Why would I want to rush? she teased.

He let her pick up Vater’s spectacle case and start back to the music room. On the second floor landing, he tugged her behind the drawn curtains of the bay windows. The gold satin lining enclosed a tiny space with the windowpanes forming the three other walls. Victor’s big hands pulled her against him. He brushed kisses all over her face. Tender, exploratory, reverent kisses.

He stopped with a huge sigh of regret. We need to get you back, before they notice.

Who?

My family. Your father. Your brother. He sounded cross. Don’t play games, Ingrid.

I’ll go to bed early. Come to my room. We’ll…talk.

His smile made her feel feminine, powerful, grown up.

* * *

Ingrid had cocooned herself in the top sheet. She huddled sobbing and trembling on the edge of the bed. With each shudder, her pearly shoulders peeped tantalizingly through the pale hair that cascaded over them.

Victor stared helplessly at his mate. Her tears made his heart cramp. The harder Ingrid cried, the faster her tears trickled down her face and tinkled onto the floor in a flood of tiny crystals. He had no idea how to make her stop.

He rolled out of bed and grabbed his pants, stuffing his legs into them commando style. He rounded the ornate footboard to sit beside his mate. It’ll be all right, he said as comfortingly as he knew how.

If anything, Ingrid cried harder. Her tears made a small and musical backdrop to her sniffling. He edged closer to try and put his arm around her and trod on a great pile of them.

Damn. His mild expletive frightened Ingrid. She shrank further away.

This was dreadful. He had not expected her to be so frightened and sad. He knelt before her and tried to take her hands. She clutched the sheet and shook her head. Blonde waves bounced. The diamonds, for she was weeping diamonds, cascaded faster. They bounced off her lap and puddled on the carpet.

Victor tried again.