“It just…” She cleared her throat. “It took me by surprise is all. I thought you’d be Briec the Silver like Éibhear is ‘the Blue’.”

“I was Briec the Silver. When I was much younger. But once you make a name for yourself that usually changes.”

“And what about Briec the Arrogant? That seems much more fitting.”

“It’s Briec the Mighty, little witch.”

“Mighty, huh? Did you give yourself that name?”

“No,” he practically spat in slow, measured tones. “I did not.”

“I was just asking. No need to get testy.”

He was glad to finally see her smile, he simply didn’t appreciate it was at his expense.

“Talaith, understand, I didn’t ask your name because—”

She turned suddenly in her chair to face him. “Are you physically unable to say you’re sorry?”

That stopped him cold. “Pardon?”

“The words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Are you unable to speak them?”

Briec thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.” He thought a moment longer, then shook his head. “No. I’ve never said it before.”

“Isn’t it time you started? Just tell me you’re sorry instead of making all these excuses.”

He looked down into that beautiful face, torn between wanting the return of the cowering female paralyzed by dragonfear and this sarcastic, argumentative female he had the feeling he’d never recover from. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.”

He bent his neck to the side and heard the bones crack.

“Here, Briec the Mighty, try it with me.” She leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

Suddenly Briec couldn’t look away from those eyes. They snared him as sure as a war party’s nets. When he finally said the words, he nearly whispered them, unable to find his voice. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

She blinked in surprise, most likely guessing she’d never get him to say it. She tried to pull away, but he slipped his hand behind the back of her neck and tugged her closer while he leaned over the chair between them.

“Briec?”

“Sssh.”

He had to kiss her. Simply had to. He moved in closer, nearing his goal.

“So what’s to eat?”

Briec’s head snapped up at the sound of Gwenvael’s voice. And before he could consider the consequences of his actions, he sent a ball of flame that shoved the dragon’s human form completely out of the chamber.

As soon as he did it, he knew his mistake. He turned around, black smoke still curling from his nostrils, to find Talaith staring at him. Her eyes wide, her mouth open.

“Talaith—”

She shook her head. “No. No. Everything’s fine.” Of course, she said that as she pried his fingers off her neck and leaned away from him.

Talaith no longer had the dragonfear, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wary. She went back to her fruit and cheese as Briec desperately worked to control his human body.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Um, so, how long you think this weather will last then?”

Accepting his defeat for the moment, Briec shrugged. “I don’t know. But hopefully not long.”

Hopefully not long at all. His desire for this strange female was beginning to affect his normally logical mind.

And he didn’t like it one damn bit.

* * *

Talaith stood at the mouth of the alcove and stared. “This is amazing,” she murmured.

“Dragons like water. One of my brothers has a lake in his den.”

She nodded as she examined the steaming hot springs. There were eight in varying sizes, replenished from an outside water supply according to Gwenvael. He’d bragged about them all through the delicious lamb dinner Éibhear made. The more he talked about it, the more she wanted to try them out. She hadn’t had a bath since the dragon dunked her in the lake after she’d vomited.

“You going to get in or just stand there with your mouth open…drool coming out.”

She glared at him. “Very funny.” Talaith stepped inside, letting the light fragrant steam wrap around her. It was warm but not uncomfortably hot. Crouching down, she tested the water with her finger, relieved to discover it was hot but not searing—with dragons you could never be too sure, their idea of uncomfortably hot differing from most. With renewed eagerness, her fingers went to the ribbon tying her bodice together, quickly undoing it. But as she started to strip off her dress, Talaith realized Briec leaned back against the wall and watched her.

“Could you excuse me?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Will you not let me enjoy anything?”

“That’s a bit unfair.” He grinned. “I merely thought we could enjoy it together.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Briec sighed. “Do you really dislike me that much, little witch?”

“It isn’t that I dislike you so much, big, fat dragon. It’s that I don’t like you enough.”

“You’re cruel.” And she knew he teased.

“Aye. So I’ve been told. Too cruel for you.” She put her hands on his chest and tried her best to shove the big ox from the chamber. “Find yourself a willing woman. A dragoness perhaps. Someone who actually finds you charming.”