Mikhail

by Lauren Smith

  After a minute he dried her hand with a soft cloth and examined the slightly reddened skin.

  “You will sleep with me tonight since you cannot seem to stay in your cage, little dove.”

  “I am not sleeping with you. You had your chance back in London before you decided to kidnap me! And why do you call me little dove?”

  “Your eyes. They are blue-gray, like the belly of a dove.” Mikhail didn’t bother pulling her back into his room; she came willingly because the bathroom was icy. But she wanted to make it crystal clear she was not going to sleep with him, even if the crazy side of her brain seemed fine with that. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the back of the chair by his fire. She gasped.

  A massive dark blue tattoo between his shoulder blades caught her eye. A dragon. Its wings were spread wide, the clawed tips arching over his shoulder blades, and it seemed to move when he moved his muscles. It was not unlike the dragons stitched on the dressing gown she wore. He must have an obsession with dragons. It was a bit odd, but who was she to talk when it came to obsessions? She loved old stones, and not because they were old or because they were sparkly or valuable, but because they were something pure and amazing that the earth had created.

  “Yes, you will sleep with me. Only sleep. You’re too tired for anything else, as am I.”

  She almost hissed at him. “Tired? It’s not because I’m tired. You’ve kidnapped me. You stole the Cheapside hoard, and you somehow got me to help you!” She jabbed his bare back with a finger. He turned and captured her wrists, pinning them against the bedpost. Startled, she didn’t fight when he retrieved a tie from the floor and tied her wrists to the post above her head. That sense of being entranced, of not being fully in control, had returned.

  Mikhail cupped her chin, and she parted her lips when he pressed his fingers gently against her cheek. Then he slipped another tie between her lips, gagging her. He tied it behind her head, and she growled at him when he stood back to admire his work. The spell broken, she let loose a string of curse words that would’ve shamed even him if they hadn’t been muffled into a series of unintelligible sounds.

  He trailed a fingertip down her throat, to the V-neck of the oversized black T-shirt she wore. “I find you bound and gagged a most arousing sight, little dove.”

  Piper tried to breathe past the panic, but the danger of her situation was hitting her hard again. She was tied up and gagged, completely vulnerable with a thief and kidnapper. Aside from how she’d ended up here, this was part of the fantasies she’d always imagined and been ashamed of. Surely he wouldn’t touch her. If he did, he’d know how aroused and embarrassed she was.

  Mikhail frowned. “You’re afraid.” He raised one brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “You need never fear me.”

  Piper stared at him, silently pleading with him for mercy, but not because she was afraid of him. She was afraid of her own dark desires because he could make them a reality.

  “I will tell you a secret that I haven’t told anyone besides Randolph Belishaw. The jewels we stole tonight are mine. They belong to my family. Elizabeth I stole them from my family. We received them from the Belishaw family as part of an ancient agreement. They don’t belong to the Crown or to England. I have letters dated from 1559 that prove the treaty, and they list the jewels included as payment. I am no thief. I was simply taking back what rightfully belongs to my family.”

  That was not what Piper had expected him to say. She was freaking out over what he might do to her, and now he was telling her he wasn’t a thief and he had proof with Elizabethan-era letters? She worked at the gag, finding it loose enough to spit out.

  “If you have the letters, then why didn’t you just show them to the authorities? Make your claim public?”

  A shadow flitted across his face. “It is not that simple. I can show you the letters, but not the world. Shedding light on my family’s past is…undesirable.”

  “Undesirable?” she pressed. She didn’t understand.

  “One day I will tell you, but not tonight.”

  She scowled at him. Having proof but not being able to go public with it? That had scam written all over it. “You’re really not giving me much reason to trust you. You’re just creating more questions than answers. And you’re scaring the hell out of me!” She jerked on her bound hands again.

  “You were never in danger tonight. Nor were you ever truly in control, and for that I apologize. I have ways of making people compliant. It’s a talent I was born with. I didn’t want to use it on you, but I needed to make sure you stayed quiet and helped me retrieve what was rightfully mine. I won’t use that little trick on you again unless I have to. We have chemistry, you and I, and I want to explore it, if you’re willing.”

  “And if I’m not willing?” she challenged with a fiery glare.

  Mikhail crooked a brow and smirked. “Tell me you aren’t. Speak the truth and I will let you go.”

  Again that weird sensation that she had no control came over her, but this time, she knew that her words as they left her lips were true, not lies that he put there to satisfy his male pride or his lust. She spoke a truth she couldn’t even fully admit to herself.

  “I…I do want you, and…” She growled in frustration, hating that he’d somehow made her admit that much. “Dammit, stop that! Stop whatever you’re doing to me!”

  “We both needed to hear you tell the truth. You want me. So you will stay, then, won’t you?”

  She glared at him, less afraid now, not that she could explain why. “I’ll stay. For a day, but after that, if I want to leave, I’m leaving.”

  “If after a day you still wish to leave, then you will be free to do so.” He then came back to her and touched her lips. “Now, you wish to ask me questions, and I will answer them.” He stroked his fingertips down her throat, then pulled them away and gave her space again.

  Piper sagged in relief. She drew several calming breaths before she finally spoke. “Why did you kidnap me? I was totally ready to go out with you tonight, you know. I was waiting for you to come back, and I thought we could go grab a drink or something. But then you went all hypnotic jewel thief on me.” And ruined the night she’d been hoping to have, one where she and Mikhail ended up in bed together.

  Mikhail grinned. “I am from the old country, little dove. You showed me your desire, and I wanted you as well. It’s a custom in my family for a male to take a female away to his lair and seduce her there. I would never force you to my bed, but I sensed that you might like a bit of fire and power in your partner.” He reached up to her wrists and stroked a hand down her arms as he leaned in. “And I can give it to you, but you must be ready to admit you want it. You cannot deny it, not after you told me the truth just now. You want me.”

  She started to say she didn’t, even if it was a lie, but he covered her lips with his finger.

  “You don’t have to argue with me to prove your strength, Piper. I know you are strong. Strong females, not weak ones, need a strong male, and I am here for you when you decide you are ready. So tonight we sleep, and you will sleep beside me.”

  “Why do you want me to sleep with you?” she asked. What did he get out of her just sleeping next to him if it wasn’t for sex?

  He was still leaning close, his body heat warming hers. “Because it is a cold, old house, and you will want the heat my body can provide.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip, then feathered a hot, slow, seemingly innocent kiss on her lips.

  “And if I don’t want to?”

  He reached a hand above her head and freed her wrists. The silk tie slid against her skin and dropped away. She lowered her wrists, touching them, but she wasn’t bruised or tender at all. Just as he’d promised.

  “The door is that way. You know where your room is.” He turned his back on her, and she had another glorious view of the dragon tattoo on his skin. For a second, in the dim light of the fire and the half-lit lamps, she swore the dragon moved.

  Mikhail walked b
ack into his bathroom, disappearing from view. Piper heard the water begin to run. He’d said he was going to make her sleep with him, but then he hadn’t even done that. She really did have a say in what would happen between them. That gave her more reassurance tonight than she could have hoped for. She took the chance to flee his room and go back to her own.

  Her bed was ice-cold, even with the fire roaring in the fireplace. She burrowed deep into the covers, shivering. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend the sheets weren’t like layers of ice against her skin. As she lay in the dark, Piper made a vow to install heaters if she ever had to live in a house like this.

  Everything would be better in the morning. She’d find a way back to London, and then she’d call the police and explain everything to them. It would be fine. It had to be.

  She drifted toward the dark realm of sleep. As her mind eased its control, her thoughts wandered more freely. She wished she hadn’t been afraid of her desire for Mikhail tonight, because being under his control like that, at least in a sexual way, had been unbelievably stimulating.

  But she couldn’t forget how she’d gotten here. Even though he hadn’t harmed her, he had still stolen a fortune in jewels, had her help him do it, and then kidnapped her. That wasn’t okay. She wasn’t going to be some silly fool who let Stockholm syndrome get the better of her. No matter how sexy he looked without a shirt, how green his eyes were, or how much she wanted to trace the outline of the dragon tattoo on his back…

  Mikhail stood outside the door to Piper’s bedroom for a long while, listening to her shift and toss under her sheets. When he heard the faint chattering of her teeth, he’d had enough. He eased the door open and peered cautiously inside. She was asleep but still cold, despite the mountain of blankets on her bed.

  With a growl of frustration, he approached the bed and carefully slipped her out from under the blankets and into his arms. Her chattering teeth stilled, and she murmured something fretful in her sleep before she nuzzled his chest and sighed.

  Unable to stop a cocky grin from spreading across his face, he carried her back to his room and settled her beneath his blankets before he turned out the lights and joined her under them. Her feet were like ice, and her hands were just as cold. He tucked her body close to his and placed her feet on his shins. Soon she’d warm up. A dragon gave off more body heat than a human, one of the perks of being a shifter, such as being able to extinguish or start a fire with a wave of his hands. Both had come in handy tonight. Mikhail curled an arm around Piper’s waist and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.

  “You have nothing to fear from me, little dove.” He whispered the words, hoping she would hear them in her dreams and know what he said was true. “I vow on my life and my brothers’ that you are safe.”

  He wanted her desperately, but he would wait as long as it took to earn her trust. Because she is my mate. It was a thought he’d been afraid to embrace before now, but it was harder and harder to deny how he and his dragon felt about this fiery beauty.

  The only problem was that she was human…like Elizabeth. When dragons mated, they tied their lifespan to that of their mate. If he mated a dragoness—an admittedly unlikely prospect—he would live another five thousand years, but if he mated a human? He would draw his last breath mere hours or days after she did. Unless he found a way to change her.

  Being a dragon shifter meant his life and his body were controlled by ancient magic. Ever since he was a child, he’d heard legends of humans who had, after great sacrifices, earned the right to join their ranks. They lived immortal lives alongside their dragon mates. He remembered his mother telling him stories about the first dragons, how they had been creatures of magic and how the early humans had bonded with them, combining the dragon’s soul with the human’s body. Those had been the first dragons. The later generations had been born rather than made. Those first dragons had come from another realm by virtue of special gemstones, ones which held great magic. But no one had done this in a long time, longer than he had been alive. The knowledge of how to do it had been lost, even in the oldest of his people’s memories.

  Mikhail didn’t like the idea of Piper having to make any great sacrifice, so he would not ask her to change for him. He closed his eyes, holding his precious human close. If he only had another sixty years with her, it would be enough. Every moment would be a treasure. He didn’t want to make another mistake, not like he had with Elizabeth.

  That was why he had taken Piper tonight. He had to be in control at first, until she could decide if she wanted him. If she did not, he would let her go, but not before he was certain he could trust her with the truth of who he was and, more importantly, what he could become.

  Five hundred years ago, being a dragon had been dangerous enough. He could’ve been captured and killed. But now? In the digital age where cameras were everywhere and scientists were eager to dissect creatures like him? Not to mention the damned Brotherhood of the Blood Moon, who had a stronghold in every major city these days, always watching and waiting for one of his kind to make a false step. It was crucial for himself and his race to stay hidden in the shadows.

  His hold tightened on Piper, and he settled deeper into his bed. He had been alone for five centuries. It felt so good to have a woman in his arms again, even if he had to face letting her go when the morning came. Until then, he would dream as he hadn’t done in years, of his gray-blue-eyed dove and the hoard of jewels hidden in the cellar of his house.

  A smile curved his lips as he slipped into the realm of a dragon’s dreams.

  8

  Those who build walls are their own prisoners.

  —Ursula K. Le Guin

  Piper woke slowly, in that hazy way one does on a winter weekend when one has snuggled deep into the blankets. Bright, clear sunlight bathed the room and bed in stark pale colors, washing everything out and making it feel surreal.

  She blinked and studied the bed hangings and the dying fire in the fireplace. Where was she? Bit by bit, memories of last night came back to her. She winced as she realized it hadn’t been a wild and fantastical dream. She was really in Mikhail Barinov’s house in Cornwall and had been forced into helping him steal the Cheapside treasure trove.

  It took her a few seconds longer to realize she was in a warm bed, but not the bed she’d gone to sleep in. She whipped her head up as soon as she recognized where she was: Mikhail’s bedroom.

  How had she gotten here? Surely he hadn’t… She lifted the sheets and breathed a sigh of relief. She was still clothed. Nothing had happened last night, as far she could tell. But why had he brought her back here after she’d been given the freedom to choose where she slept?

  Frowning, she slipped out of bed. A pair of jeans and a sweater lay beside her on a chair, along with boots and thick woolen socks. There was a small note propped up beside them.

  Piper,

  Belishaw brought your clothes down from London this morning. Your suitcase is in the other bedroom. Feel free to freshen up and shower. Come down to the kitchen when you are hungry.

  —M.

  Belishaw? How had he gotten into her hotel room? Scratch that—given what they’d pulled off last night, breaking into a hotel room couldn’t have been difficult.

  She set the note down and glanced at the bathroom. She really could use a shower. She had to start her day feeling clean or else she got cranky, and that was the last thing she needed if she was going to escape.

  The bathroom was stunning, with smooth marble surfaces and expensive faucets. She’d been too busy focusing on the scalding wax last night to appreciate it. The shower was a massive glass box against one wall. There was a heated floor tile switch, which she experimented with when she got in and turned on the water. So much of the house she’d seen so far hadn’t been modern, yet this bathroom certainly was. It seemed Mikhail had kept the renovations to just the rooms he lived in most.

  The rest of the house might have been cold, but not this room. The water warmed her chilled sk
in, and the heated tiles made her feel as cozy as a kid by a roaring fire in a pile of blankets. She got out, dried her hair, and got dressed. Then she returned to her bedroom to check her luggage. But there was only so long she could put off the inevitable and face Mikhail.

  She followed the heady scents of eggs and bacon down the stairs into the kitchen. Mikhail stood in front of the stove, wearing jeans and a button-up white shirt, holding a cast-iron skillet over a blue flame.

  “Good morning.” He offered her one of those sexy smiles that hit her right behind her knees.

  How could he always make her want to forget that she was supposed to be resisting him, trying to get away? It was so hard to ignore the “Fuck me, baby” vibes that rolled off him in waves. It gave her way too many wild ideas, like curling her arms around his body from behind and breathing in that woodsy pine scent of his.

  Get a grip. Piper gave herself a little shake and placed the stovetop island between herself and the sexy Russian jewel thief.

  “How do you like your eggs?” he asked as he scooped a helping of scrambled eggs onto a plate.

  She couldn’t help but lick her lips. “Er, scrambled is fine.”

  He added shredded cheese to the eggs, just like her mom did. “And bacon, I assume?” He raised a gloved hand with a second skillet where several fat, thick strips sizzled.

  “Yes, please.” She held back a moan as he plucked the strips from the pan with a fork and set them on the plate next to the eggs.

  Mikhail turned to the fridge. “Coffee, tea, or juice?”

  “Orange juice, if you have it,” she replied. She picked up a spare fork on the counter and sat down at the nook table with the plate.

  A tall glass of orange juice was soon sitting in front of her. When she finished eating, she looked up to see Mikhail leaning against the counter, watching her with open amusement. She chose to ignore him. She didn’t want to know what was making him smile. It was likely at her expense. Having breakfast with a jewel thief was something she’d never thought she’d experience in her life, yet he acted so casually and put her at such ease that she could almost forget how she’d ended up here.