Wearing a look that swore vengeance, she wrapped her legs around his waist in a grip strong enough to crush ribs, and then neatly smacked her forehead against his. Rearing his head back, he dropped a wrist and tentatively brought his hand to his forehead, checking for blood. In that split second Maggie grabbed her fallen weapon and hit him square across his cheek.
Loud muttering curses exploded from him in a deep accented voice. Before she could rear back he wrenched the book from her hand and threw it while still holding the other wrist. It ricocheted off the other books as he regained control of her. Books dug into her back but she barely noticed with her bare legs wrapped around his narrow hips and his chest pressing her body to the ground. Maggie stared him down with a look so menacing even the most insane of people would have released her, but the look he gave her in return was all heat.
Chapter Four
Arthur stared down into the enraged face of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her long brown hair was falling out of a bun and what had escaped fanned around her face. Her eyes were large, doe-like, yet they had a hard sheen of coldness he knew in no others except a soldier, a warrior who had faced down death and returned.
Her legs contracted around his body and her face shifted for the barest of seconds into a look of pain. He moved to come off her body; she opened her legs to allow him to get up. Still gripping her wrists and staring at her eyes in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, he shifted his legs forward and took the weight off her hips. He instantly saw a look of relief cloud her eyes before they cleared back to heated outrage.
“If I release you, will you stop trying to attack me with that damned book?” he asked her slowly, not sure if she would understand him. She continued to stare into his eyes, and flicked her gaze to his mouth for a second, and then back up.
“Yes, if you also get the hell off me.” Surprise rippled through Arthur at the sound of her voice. It was deep for a woman, and even though she sounded angry, he thought of whispers in the night.
Watching her, Arthur slowly released her wrists and jerked his body back from hers. She moved her hands down in front of her, still staring at him, daring him to move, and then moved her right hand briefly to her right hip.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Why did you attack me?” he asked, gesturing to the offending weapon.
“Well, for one, you’re naked. Two, you’re naked, and three, you climbed on top of me,” she said, pointing her finger at him.
The corner of his mouth curved up slyly.
“You were wielding that book at me before I pinned ye’, so clearly you were going to attack,” he said smugly, a hint of an accent leaking into his words.
“What the hell would you do if you found a naked man in your bookstore?” Her forehead wrinkled, her lips pursed, she looked ready for another fight.
He considered her words carefully. What would he do?
“I’d probably ask him where his clothes are.”
Maggie wrinkled her brow further and shook her head.
“That was a rhetorical question, dip-shit.”
“I don’t know what ‘dip-shit’ means.”
The statement hung in the air as they continued to stare at each other. Arthur shifted his weight so his bare butt sat on the linoleum and his knees jutted up in the air. He lazily braced his arms on his legs and continued to stare at her openly. After a time, he unlocked his gaze from her eyes and it traveled down her body. She was wearing a yellow dress, the color brightening her pale skin and deepening the darkness of her hair at the same time. She kept sneaking her hand down to her hip and the tight squeeze of guilt gripped Arthur’s chest.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, staring at the hand rubbing her hip.
“No,” she bit out between her clenched teeth, shifting to hide her hand. Crinkling his brow, he stared her down.
“You’re in pain.”
Letting out a harsh breath she pursed her lips and glanced down at the ground, red splotches starting to appear on her face.
“I need help getting up,” she whispered. So quietly he almost didn’t hear.
He stood up deftly and reached down to her but she flinched back. After a long moment, she held out her hand.
“You don’t need to touch me anymore than you already have.”
Reaching out both hands he pulled her to her feet. She wobbled and he remained ready to catch her should she fall, but she stayed upright. He took his hands away and watched her shake out her dress. There was a sheen of tears in her eyes but she never let one fall past what he could tell had fallen before their encounter. There were tiny clean trails through the grime along her cheekbones.
He kept himself in check, though he really wanted to jump up and down and scream in happiness that he was finally back in the real world. There seemed to be something missing. He glanced around the shop, which may or may not have been tidy before his arrival; there were no guns, no knives, no swords, and no soldiers. What was he here for?
“My lady, why am I here?”
She shook her dress one last time and finally met his eyes. The look on her face still threatened danger. He held his ground and waited for her to answer.
“What do you mean, why am I here?”
“Well, usually when I arrive it’s because I need to fight something, or someone, there is a task I must complete.”
Her mouth hung open as he finished his sentence. “Is this a joke? Did Sonya send you? Are you some sort of gigolo for hire?”
“I don’t know what a gigolo is.”
She inhaled a large breath and scratched the back of her head.
Having stared at him for a good minute, possibly judging his sincerity, she stepped out of the piles of books and headed toward the counter by the door. He watched her progress until she picked up a telephone. It had been a long time since he saw one, maybe seventy years, but it was unmistakable.
“Who are you phoning?”
She finished pressing the numbers before putting the phone to her ear as she stared at him. He was still very much naked but that didn’t bother him. He would get armor soon enough. There had never been a woman present on his returns and was glad to see a modern one so perfectly formed. Hopefully he would see more on this trip than the last one. It was all mud and rain in his last foray into modern civilization.
“There is a naked man in my store. Does he belong to you?”
Her voice shocked him back to the present. That explained it; she must not have been the one to call him forth. He smiled as he approached the counter but she backed away, shaking her head as he progressed.
“Why would I make that up? There is a man in my store. He’s about 6’4”, wide, tan, buzzcut, and very fucking naked.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear to speak only into the receiver at the last part. He watched her in rapt fascination. She looked so fragile yet she fought and spoke like a man. There was no explanation, and for the first time in his life he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.
Chapter Five
Maggie hit the talk button on her cell phone a little harder than was probably necessary while she took a deep calming breath. Her therapist said she might have anger issues as a result of her PTSD but right now she was over the top. This man looked like he had no clue and the only person she knew had no idea he was here, but offered to take him off her hands if she didn’t want him. Hence, the hang up.
“I’m going to make this easy. Who are you and why are you here?” She sat the phone on the counter and moved back around so she could look up into his eyes. If he tried anything, she was ready to take him down, even if he was hot as hell.
“I’m Arthur.” She waited for him to elaborate but he just stared at her, like he wasn’t sure if she was female or male.
“Good start. You’re Arthur. Now, what do you want? Why are you here and why are you naked?”
He glanced away. He better not lie to her. She moved her head, forcing him to retain eye contact. Stare
them down, they always break. That’s what she’d been taught about training soldiers once upon a time.
“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m here. I am naked because that is how I always arrive, never really questioned why. I’m usually put to work right away.”
She glanced down his body. There were many glorious things she could imagine him working on. She shook herself back to the present: crazy man in store. She sighed and put her hands on her hips, still staring up at him.
“My guess is you escaped from a mental institution and somehow came in here while I was in the shower and then destroyed everything.” She was now staring behind him at the mess on the floor, the shelves, the books; it made her heart ache to see them in such a state.
“My lady, if it is your wish, I can fix the shelves and the books for you.” He bowed at the waist as he spoke. Definitely took a little dignity off when it was done naked. She waved her hands at him.
“Go, fix. I’ll call whatever nut house you escaped from to come and pick you up.” He wrinkled his forehead but turned around. The moment she caught sight of his tight bare ass she stopped and stared, way longer than would be seemly.
“I’m going to get you clothes first.”
The stairs hurt more than usual since her body was recovering from their brief scuffle. She finally made it to the top and took a deep breath to steady her breathing and heartbeat. She was shaking slightly from the shock of everything. It would be her luck, to find the crazy attractive.
Shaking her head, she dug around her old uniform box for some sweat pants and took them back downstairs. Arthur accepted them with a bow and she rolled her eyes as she moved behind the cash register to bring up the yellow pages on her computer. The closest mental facilities were in Washington, D.C.She stared down at the screen in disbelief. There weren’t any facilities in her area, and the closest was over ten miles away. There was no way he could have walked from there to her store naked, without the police being called.
Drumming her fingers on the counter, she looked back at the man. He was bending down picking up books, and she found herself staring at his rear-end yet again. She shook herself back to the present situation. Why was this man’s presence making her so scatterbrained?
“Arthur, come here.”
He loped over, all muscles and long limbs, and smiled at her. His smile was one of those that could knock a girl on her butt. Luckily, she had a tiny bit more sense.
“Did you go to high school?”
He shook his head.
“College?”
Again, negative.
“Do you have any skills or trades, something that can tell me who you are?
His brow wrinkled. “I already told you, I’m Arthur.”
“Do you have a last name?”
“Some people call me Pendragon, or son of the Pendragon.”
The moment the words left his lips, Maggie doubled over in laughter. This man was a complete lunatic, or he had spiteful parents. She straightened back up, swiping at the wetness that formed at the corner of her eye.
“Pendragon, that’s what you’re going with?”
She took a breath and leaned on the counter, ensuring she had his attention. She pronounced each syllable slowly and precisely.
“Where did you come from?”
He leaned in close to her, only a breath away from her lips. He smelled like apples and warm rain. He mocked her tone and pronounced his sentence with painstaking slowness.
“I don’t know where I came from. You called me here.”
She was done playing games. She put her arms up to shove him back but before her hands made contact with his bare chest he grasped her wrists and held them in his hands. Not hard but enough to keep hold of her.
“Let me go,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“Will you stop trying to fight with me?”
“Violence is in my nature.” She moved her hips to come around the counter, her wrists still trapped in his closed grip. He allowed her movement but she could tell he watched her warily. She slipped her foot and caught him behind the shin, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward. She thought he would release her; she didn’t count on him taking her down with him. They landed in a heap, hard lines of man pressed along her body. She pulled her legs up so she straddled his hips, trying to pry her hands free.
Chapter Six
That’s how he found them. The bell on the shop door jingled as he stepped into a massive mess and the two people he had been seeking for centuries piled on top of each other. The woman was the first to recover.
“Can I help you with something?” She removed her arms from the man’s hands and moved to get to her feet.
“Don’t let me interrupt.”
The boy held out his hand to her, which she shook. He glanced at the man slowly getting up from the floor.
“I’m Mel. I came for him.”
They both stared at the boy, identical expressions of confusion on their faces.
“Thank goodness. He’s been here for like five minutes, he destroyed my store, attacked me, and he’s a jackass,” she said, as she crossed her arms under her breasts.
“Oh, sorry,” she spoke again, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
He knew what they saw, a scrawny teenage boy with sandy blond hair and headphones.
“Don’t worry about it; I’m older than I look.”
“Well, there he is, take him. I need to fix the mess he made.” She turned her back to them and headed toward the pile of books in the back.
“Arthur, you sure made a mess of things,” Mel said.
“Do I know you?”
“After all the time we spent together I figured you would recognize me anywhere, no matter the form I took.” He moved closer to Arthur and slapped him on the back of the head, hard. Arthur sputtered forward and then froze in place.
“Merlyn?”
“You always were a smart boy; now go help that nice young lady out.” Merlyn shook his head; he taught that man more manners than that. He also needed to find the book and figure out why and how Arthur was back.
“Oh, Miss, can I ask your help for a moment?” She looked over at the boy’s raised voice and scooted out of the way as Arthur resumed his cleaning.
“What, he won’t go? He likes me that much already?” She put her hands on her hips.
“No, it’s not that. I think that I need your help. You see, this may sound kind of crazy.”
“Crazier than that man thinking he’s a legendary war-lord?” she said, interrupting him.
“Actually, precisely that sort of crazy. You see, he is the legendary leader, King Arthur, and you my dear, have some sort of family tie to mine in order to bring him forth.”
She blinked a few times, sputtered slightly, then closed her mouth and continued to blink.
“So you’re both crazy.”
Merlyn shook his head and moved toward Arthur. He said a few words into the air, flicked his wrist and instantly Arthur was decked in finely wrought steel armor, complete with sword.
Merlyn looked back at the girl. She sat down on the nearby chair, hard, causing it to bounce back. She stared at her hands, and then back at Arthur.
“Maybe I’m crazy,” she whispered.
“A little warning would have been nice,” Arthur said through the layers of metal.
Merlyn approached the girl and sat down on the floor in front of her.
“I know I gave you a shock but I need your help.”
“What do you need from me?”
“For one you have my book, it’s what you used to bring him forward. Two, I need you to keep him safe.”
She started taking rapid breaths in and out, trying to calm her nerves.
“Keep him safe from what?”
“Himself. He doesn’t know this time. The last time my magic activated Arthur was in Europe, probably in World War II, and I couldn’t get to him before he was gravely injured and pulled back to Avalon.”
S
he started to rock back and forth in slow movements, still taking deep breaths.
“Let me get this straight. He’s King Arthur and I somehow called him from Avalon and you need my help to keep him safe?”
“Precisely.” Merlyn beamed at her.
“Who are you?” she asked, clearly battling with everything he told her so far.
He stood up and bowed at the waist.
“My apologies, Miss, I’m Merlyn.”
Chapter Seven
Arthur pulled the helm from his head, shuddering under the weight of the armor. How had he forgotten how heavy armor was?
“A little help here?” he called to Merlyn, who was still standing in front of his now much calmer hostess.
“Oh, sorry,” he murmured, still in discussion with Maggie. He snapped his fingers and the metal disappeared, leaving Arthur in the pants he was previously given. He missed his converse. Stretching his shoulders he went back to rearranging the books and the shelves.
A moment later Maggie and Merlyn approached him from behind. He turned toward them and waited.
“Arthur, would you be willing to stay with Maggie while I figure out the current situation?”
Arthur looked at her. She was all of five and a half feet but she packed a punch, and to be honest, she frightened him a little bit. He had never in his life met a woman like her.
“If she promises not to hit me again,” Arthur said.
She smirked at him and he looked back at Merlyn.
“What am I getting out of this? Besides his obviously stimulating company?” she interrupted.
“What do you want?” Merlyn looked at her like a science experiment out of an Oscar Wilde novel, with decadence and awe.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Of course.”
She pursed her lips and brought her hand up to rub her chin. She then bit her lip and stared at Arthur for a moment.
“I want him to fix the damage he did to my store as well as make other improvements that need to be done. Helping me around the shop until it’s time for him to go.”
“Done,” Merlyn said, reaching out to shake her hand. They shook and Arthur stood between them, staring at their clasped hands. Didn’t he have a say in this?
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