[excerpt]

by Editor

Almost as quickly as that thought came, it vanished. “I love saying your name Lucian...Looshaan. If we were to have a child, a little girl, we could name her Lucy.” Serina let the name roll off her tongue slowly in the same fashion she’d just done to his name.

  Lucian bent his head down to meet hers. With his nose pressed against hers he said, “No...”

  Serina pouted. “No children?”

  “Children, yes, all girls as beautiful as you, but no Lucys. M’lady, I must agree with you that bubbles have attacked you. Come with me, my wild rose. Do you want me to escort you inside or wait out here for you to return to my arms?”

  “I’ll be fine, but Lucian—really, who is that man? He’s been watching you all evening, and with not the friendliest of faces. He’s not right. He and Tess would get on together fine.”

  “I do not know him. I’ll ask around while you fix up something, although I can see nothing out of place on you. You’re stunning.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear!” Serina tapped her finger on the tip of his nose and disappeared.

  Having the powder room to herself, she stared into the looking glass with a silly grin plastered on her face lost within her thoughts until she heard two men talking. Lucian’s name mentioned more than once piqued her curiosity. She glanced upwards noting a small vent between the two rooms. Without realizing what she’d done, she climbed up on the counter to get closer to the opening, which she found tricky in an evening gown and heeled shoes. If anyone walked in now she realized she would have some explaining to do.

  With one ear pressed tight to the vent, her gut twisted hearing the men’s voices. An urgent sense to protect Lucian, to run fast and hide him away forever from everyone swarmed her senses. She’d heard one say, “I can’t believe it, Master. He should be covered in dirt today, yet here he is looking healthier than you and with a fiancé who no one’s ever had the pleasure of having. I wonder where Raven is. He’s never left her. Never! Maybe she didn’t survive. But don’t you worry, I’ll finish this. You can count on me.”

  Then Serina heard another voice, more like a low guttural growl that shot up the hairs on the back of her neck and pricked sharper than the thorns from her roses.

  “Raven had better survived, or I’ll lie back and personally watch my wolves shred you limb by limb. Am I perfectly clear?”

  “Yes sir, very clear.”

  A loud cracking noise followed whimpers. Having heard enough, she hopped down from the countertop and ran from the powder room directly into Lucian’s arms. Unable to control her trembling, she whispered, “We must leave immediately.”

  “What is it, what’s happened?” Lucian drew her to him hoping to quell her obvious fear.

  Serina squeezed her arms around his waist, as she walked him backwards toward the exit. She explained, “I overheard two men in the powder room talking about you and Raven. They said that you should be dead, but since you’re not, they’ll finish you. Lucian, we need to get out of here, get Raven and go somewhere safe. Egypt should be safe, plenty of sun! Those things don’t appreciate sun, right? Why do they want you dead? Why?” She felt anger build within her...not a good thing from where she stood. Her control and her powers didn’t quite mesh when she felt threatened.

  Serina’s first malignant thought passed through her head. From the day she took an oath to care for people proclaiming no malfeasance, she wondered now if she’d be able to live up to it. She could walk into that room and make the hearts that belonged to the voices cease to beat. She could will it so. The men would be dead. Lucian and Raven would be safe. Serina turned to walk back to the powder room when Lucian caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

  “You cannot do this, Serina. You are not like the animal that tried to kill Raven or myself. You could not live with yourself.”

  “I won’t live without you, Lucian.” Serina turned in his arms, never taking her tear-filled eyes off him.

  “You won’t live without me. Ever if I died, I would make my way back to your arms. Death cannot separate us, m’lady. Only time and circumstance.”

  “You’re not God, Lucian. You don’t get the luxury to pick how and when.”

  “God has naught to do with this, Serina. God does not have vampires for his disciples, rest assured. So yes, for now I shall pick my time and how and it won’t be at the hands of some bloody beast.” He rested his chin atop her head, catching his wits. He needed time to absorb their situation, but it seemed a luxury he was no longer afforded.

  “Did you see two men go into the restroom?”

  “Only one.”

  “Well, one is better than none. Did anyone know him?”

  “He is assumed a streetwalker in search of scraps. Speaking of scraps, let’s stop by the kitchen on the way out, and we can kill two birds with one stone. We can ask the chef if he knew who he gave food to, and we can pick up dessert for our misfits at home.”

  Hands on her hips, Serina asked, “Even in the midst of a life and death crisis you think of food. Men! Are all men as obdurate as you, or am I the only woman lucky enough to have a man think such things?”

  “A man’s gotta eat, luv, and then there’s dessert.” Lucian marched his fingers down her back to her bottom, patting her. “And then there’s dessert.” Lucian’s smile spoke of hours of nothing but the two of them together; romantic images and thoughts conjured within his head fast and furious, regardless of his situation.

  “Lucian!” Serina shoved at his chest, though for all her effort he stood unmoved. “Please, be serious for one moment.” She threw her hands into the air. “Would you stop? Get that image of me out of your thick head for the time being.”

  He offered an innocent smile.

  “I just overheard two men devising a plan to kill you and all you can think of is food and me. I believe the champagne did you in. For the love of God, what if they actually succeed? You came into my life like a tornado and blew my world wide open. I don’t want you sucked away leaving only death’s destruction behind. I won’t lose you, do you understand?” Serina crossed her arms under her chest, which by default, she realized accentuated her breasts even more but there wasn’t much she could do about it. They were what they were, buxom. She looked as stern as she possibly could, until she noticed his focus remained on the rise and fall of her chest. “I’m up here you daft sod.” She kicked at his ankle. She wasn’t budging until he started to take her seriously, and he had no idea of just how stubborn she could get. Serina leaned against one of the kitchen tables, fuming.

  Lucian approached, batting his big baby blues willing her to smile.

  Nothing.

  “I know you’re frightened, but I can’t go to the constable telling him of the past few days’ events. It would place you and Raven in danger, not to mention myself. I can’t tell him we were all but killed, and you saved us. Serina, they’d have the Sorcerers Squad knocking down your door before we returned home. Do you want that? Want those murderous scoundrels hanging you out to dry? I most assuredly don’t.”

  “I can take care of myself. You’re already in danger, Lucian. So is Raven. She’s two sets of marks on her neck to prove how much danger she’s in. Three sets and we’re all up to our necks in trouble. No pun intended. You need protection. I can save you as long as you’ve got a pulse, luv, but I cannot do the reanimation thing. I’m not Dr. Frankenstein.”

  She roughed up her hair frustrated. Then her pacing kicked in, getting her in the way of the head chef. She grabbed his coat in passing and read the embroidered name on his lapel aloud. “Nice name—ah, Payton.” She slapped his chest, and gave him a slight shove out of her way continuing with her rant.

  Payton gave Lucian a weary glance, one blond eyebrow arched. He watched patient, backing into corners when Serina neared. He had every right to kick them out of his kitchen, but then he may have been just a bit intimidated by this insane little woman who’d taken over his kitchen. He realized she meant business. Glancing at the King’s nephew, he looked amused and th
ere in lay the problem.

  “Lord St. James, begging me pardon for eavesdropping, although I don’t much have a choice, but, Sir, your lady...she makes sense. The man’s ne’er been here before this night. I’d liked to have been able to help you, but you clearly need to visit the constable, Sir.” Payton looked down at the floor, scared to face the man. He’d all but insulted royalty. Tomorrow, he knew he’d be looking for a new position as a pot scrubber somewhere if he still had a head atop his shoulders when he woke up...If he woke up!

  Serina decided then and there, she’d recruited an ally. She liked Payton and adored the way he’d called her Lucian’s lady. And more importantly, she was thankful that he sided with her.

  “Payton, your wisdom is worthy of someone taking heed. Hopefully Lord St. James will listen to not one, but the two of us.” She cast Lucian a reprimanding glance.

  “Serina, I will speak with the constable tomorrow. I promise.”

  Serina gave him the look.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die!”

  “Ah! Don’t say that. Hope to die? Do you have a death wish?”

  “Can we please go now?” He crossed his eyes as he walked past the chef. “Payton, I’ll take your words to heart. I appreciate your honesty. Most people treat me with kid gloves, always afraid to approach me. Thank you for treating me as a man, not some daft nephew of the Queen. ’Tis refreshing.”

  Serina’s jaw hit the ground for a second time. Payton held the same pose.

  “If you ever tire of the work here you are welcome at my manor as chef. I’ve enjoyed many of your meals. Lord knows my sister and Duncan can’t cook.” Lucian added, “We’re at a loss. Come by tomorrow if you would like to look about. But you better hurry up before ‘they’ kill me and you lose your offer.” Lucian tried to make light of the situation, but his smile faded fast. “Come, Serina.” He held his hand to her.

  “Excuse me—did you just say the King’s nephew? Oh, bloody hell,” Serina muttered. “These are the Queen’s gems aren’t they?”

  “Actually, I said the daft nephew of the Queen. There is no blood that binds me to the King Consort.”

  “I’m marrying an almost prince?” Serina said dreamy-eyed. “How did I miss that?”

  “Lord St. James,” Payton called, snapping Serina out of her mini trance. “Would you be so kind as to give these to your sister? I know how she fancies them. I hope she is well.” Payton handed Lucian a bag of the mint Pattie cakes.

  Lucian nodded. A knowing glance passed between the two men. He fast realized Payton would indeed be stopping by tomorrow to acquire the position in his manor, just as long as his new position wasn’t atop his sister, he’d be fine.

  Having said their farewells and blowing Tess a quick kiss, Serina headed home, her fiancé safely tucked by her side. From the carriage, she watched people strolling the sidewalks, holding hands, some in intimate chatter cuddling, others laughing and enjoying the cool night air. It left her ripe with jealousy.

  “This isn’t fair, Lucian. We’ve just met. I can’t believe someone would kill you just because you’ve royal blood running through you. It makes no sense.” Angry little tears blurred her vision. She scooted closer on the seat, needing to feel him beside her.

  “It makes absolute sense, Serina. For centuries people have killed and been killed to wear the illustrious crown of jewels, to be placed upon a pedestal and told you are worthy of treatment that does not befit the rest of your countrymen? No man is above another. We are all equal in the eyes of the Lord. I realize this goes against every social class and moral I’ve been raised by but ’tis what I believe. Most days it, the crown, reminds me of Jesus’ thorned headpiece. Power, freedom, glory, servants at your beck and call, never having to apologize or have a worry, well, other than the obvious—losing your last breath to some scoundrel. This life is believed to be Utopia by many. It has been this way since the dawn of time. Cleopatra, Julius Caesar, Queen Mary...We take the good with the bad with a stiff upper lip. Ha! I have ne’er wanted the responsibility. I will not place my family in harm’s way, ever.”

  Finished with his rant, Lucian slowed the carriage as they passed a small lake. With the full moon glowing and a light breeze, shimmering waves sailed across the water, Lucian pulled the reins on the horses and the carriage rolled to a stop. He hopped off.

  “Come with me? This is one of my favorite hideaways. No one ever bothers me here.” Lucian helped Serina down.

  After spreading a blanket under a tree, Serina snuggled between Lucian’s legs and leaned back. They relaxed by the water for quite some time without speaking, both content. “Are you warm enough?” he asked as he rubbed her arms.

  “It’s beautiful here. I’m fine.” Serina bent her head back to see Lucian’s face. That small movement sent her hair falling down over her shoulder and into her face. Lucian swept it back, tucking it behind her ear.

  “Would you look at the manor on the opposite side of this lake? By the goddess, it’s fit for the Queen. Wonder who lives there?”

  To tell her or not to tell her the home was his? Surprise won out. “I am so sorry I’ve dragged you into my personal wars with would-be assassins. I should have told you I live with this threat every day of my life. There are seven of us that still have this hanging over our heads like a guillotine; the Queen, her three daughters—best to avoid them if you can, and our cousin, André. He resides in Paris. Once in a blue moon if we’re lucky we hear from him. My mother and her twin, Chyna, are the Queen’s younger sisters. My parents were murdered, and my aunt Chyna went missing just before their death and ne’er resurfaced. The Queen has naught to do with Raven or myself. Hasn’t for eons. I believe she’s responsible for my parents’ execution. She knows this so she won’t come near myself, as she fears for her own life. I’ve cared for Raven for the past eight years now.”

  “Lucian, I’m sorry your life has borne witness to such tragedies.” She reached up and touched her lips to the tip of his nose. “To new beginnings.”

  “Cheers, m’lady.” Lucian bent forward and found her lips soft, warm and inviting. His heart heavy with the knowledge she feared for him, it upset him that the magic of their first evening together had been ruined, that he couldn’t promise her the fairy tale would last forever. He couldn’t have promised her that even if he wasn’t royal.

  “You are the spark to my flame, Serina. You ignite my very soul. You are a cool and gentle breeze, calming and tranquil, and you most assuredly are the eye of a storm. Everything about you radiates an untamed spirit. I want to lie here with you for the rest of this night and watch the sun grace every sensuous curve of your body in the morrow. Would you do this for me?” Lucian pulled her onto his lap and moved his hands to her face. He whispered, “I love you, Serina Spencer, and I’ve ne’er loved another.” He kissed her again, finding her tongue, deepening his kiss, and memorizing her sweet essence as if it were their last kiss.

  “Just promise me one thing, St. James.”

  Lucian held his breath waiting...expecting any second that she would bring up the constable, and he didn’t want get into that discussion again. Choking out each word he said, “Whatever m’lady wants, it is so.”

  “You’re a lousy liar, Lord,” she teased. “Don’t let any spiders crawl on me. I really loathe them. They’ll send me running in ten different directions. And about the constable...We’re still on for that trip in the morning.” Serina kissed him before he could protest. “You forget my powers, silly man.”

  Torn between going home and staying right where he was, Lucian made a quick mental check on his sister.

  Raven, is all well?

  We are fine; all for our sweet tooth still has cravings. You at the lake?

  How did you know?

  Lucian, I’m in your head more than you most days, sweetie. Speaking of which?

  I’ve your mint cakes, little one, although if you continue to eat them I’ll no longer be calling you little one. As long as you’re fine, we’ll see you in
the morn. Good night. Sweet dreams, Ray.

  Good night, my imbecile.

  Lucian enjoyed the evening, talking, laughing and eating all the treats they were supposed to bring home to Raven. With Serina asleep, entwined within his arms, he nodded off not long after her.

  Lucian awoke dodging acorns as squirrels dropped the tiny bombs while ravaging the tree for nuts. He glanced over his lady. She lay comfortably on her side with him spooned perfectly to her back.

  He pushed Serina’s hair away from her neck and kissed her, then nibbled. His lips traveled over her shoulder, over her collarbone and made their way back to her neck.

  His arm had other plans. By its own design, it began a slow descent around the front of her dress finding the firm swell of her bosom. Her breasts felt soft and smooth under the satin and silk fabrics. Yet with the slightest caress, he found they awoke hungry for his attention. Her reactions instigated his body’s reaction. He hardened in mere seconds.

  “Good morning, my wild rose. Can you think of anything, anything at all that you might possibly want or need this beautiful morning that I, Lucian St. James, may personally take care of for you?”

  Serina attempted to whip her head around to face him but only made it half way. The damned grin upon his lips was irresistible, his disheveled morning hair as untamed as he. Her heart flip-flopped. “Only one thing comes to mind, my lover.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re on my hair. I’m tied down.” Serina pointed to the locks under his arm.

  “One of my other fantasies!”

  Lucian’s eyebrows shifted. Serina recognized the non-prim, non-proper suggestion, and she bit at the smirk forming on her lips. Wasn’t a bad fantasy at all as long as it involved silky restraints and a promise of passion. “Of course one other thing does come to mind.”

  He shifted to free her hair. “Please don’t say the constable.”

  “We’ll discuss him, but not until you’ve taken me in your arms and had your way with me. Fair enough?”

  Lucian wasted no time and crawled to her feet. “Fair enough.” He sorted through the layers of fabric her dress held until he found flesh. “My, what delicate feet you have. All the better to…” He popped her toe in his mouth and sucked on it through her giggles. After kissing each little digit he ran a nail down the center of her sole. Serina laughed, bucked and squirmed trying to break his grip but he tightened his hold.