Page 12 of Eliza's Cursed Dragon

He cocked his head to the side. “That makes it a bit harder to get to know you, but not impossible.”

I still stood frozen to the spot, craning my neck up, pressing the gas canister to my chest, listening to the deep sound of his voice. Never had I met a more fascinating man than him and with all my heart I wished I could give him my name, talk to him. But the cursed curse stopped me.

The curse!

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay, couldn’t get to know this man.

With more effort than the little canister required, I lifted it up to him, nodded my thanks, and placed it into the cart. I forced my left hand to grip the handle and my right to wave with a final smile, before I turned, feeling his stare at my back.

“Elizabeth,” he called behind me.

The closeness of him coming to almost guess my real name made me stop and turn. I threw another smile at him, shaking my head before I determinedly pivoted and walked out of the aisle.

Edward

Running into her at the minimarket had been a stroke of luck. Seeing her needing help even more so.

Up close she was far more beautiful than how she appeared at night and through my dragon eyes. Her eyes were the most brilliant aquamarine and so deep, I could have stared into them for hours without tiring.

She was also much smaller than I had expected her to be after seeing her last night. Small and delicate, with a fine bone structure that made her seem even more fragile. In a way, she reminded me of the swans she hung out with. The white in her hair was the same color, just a tad more silver. She moved with the grace of those birds as well. For a moment I even thought she would take flight to reach the canister on the upper shelf. That was nonsense of course, but considering, stranger things had happened.

Never before had I wanted to get to know somebody as badly as I wanted to get to know her. And it wasn’t all lasciviousness that drove me, there was a strange vulnerability about her that made me want to pull her into my arms and assure her that everything would be alright, that I would protect her.

Watching her walk away from me was hard no matter how much I admired the way she moved, and yes, her luscious curves and inviting ass. Those curves! Despite her seeming frailty, she was generously curved where it mattered the most.

Judging by how the other men in the market stared at her, I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Which awakened another emotion in me that I had never before experienced before, and it wasn’t born from protectiveness. This one came from deeper inside me, a sense of proprietary. She was mine!

Along with it, more urges rose to the surface, violent urges. My hands balled into fists, ready to slam into these men for staring at her. That realization stunned me enough not to run after her. Instead, I rushed out of the store without buying any of the things I came in for, worried some deep-buried inner demon would crawl out from the depths of my soul and take over, allowing my fists to fly like they wanted to, beating every single man to a pulp for just looking at her. Worse yet, my skin was itching as if my dragon was ready to take over, despite the fact that it was daytime.

The possibility of that happening had me running for my truck and jumping into the seat, slamming the door as if the hounds of hell were after me.

My heart was racing so fast, I feared I might succumb to a heart attack. What in the name of hell was happening to me?

When my breathing and heart rate finally slowed down enough that I regained some semblance of self-control, I turned the motor on, ready to return to the jobsite.

At least until my eyes caught sight of black and silvery hair coming out of the store, carrying bags that seemed way too heavy for her.

I pulled the truck around and next to her. “Hey again.”

Surprised, she looked up.

“I can give you a ride, that looks heavy,” I offered.

Her eyes darted in the direction of the graveyard and I sensed she would decline even before she shook her head. She didn’t want me to know her destination.

“Let me at least help you carry all that stuff,” I couldn’t stop from offering next.

She lifted the bags playfully, as if they weighed nothing, which was a lie, because I glimpsed at least six bottles of water. She did make it seem effortless though, and I wondered if she was stronger than she appeared. She had to be.

Her fingers wiggled in a futile wave between the shopping bag handles and she walked off. Without acting like a stalker I would have to let her go, I decided reluctantly. Unable to let her just be though, I put the truck in neutral and watched her lone figure cross the road toward the woods. I kept an eye on her until she vanished between the trees and I was sure nobody else was following her. At least I knew her destination. I would see her again tonight and I would make a point to visit the minimarket more often in hopes of catching her there again.

The day wore on and started wreaking havoc on my nerves. I was unable to concentrate on anything and worried about the decision I made. Even Jack looked at me funny and asked me a few times if I was alright.

Against my nature, I pulled out from the construction side earlier than anybody else to head home, even though there was nothing to distract me from my desire to see her again either.

Instead of reading my emails, I found myself on a website that taught sign language. I doubted she knew it, she hadn’t made any attempts to articulate with her hands, besides the obvious gestures. Still, it gave me something to do, something that connected me to her.

Who was she?

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