by Marina Myles
Giselle gave a shiver. “I’m glad you succeeded. Now hold me close.”
Lucian scooped her into his arms and took her to the bed. They scrambled under the coverlet and basked in a warm embrace.
“I hope Ileana never finds me,” Giselle said after a while.
“I, on the other hand, would love to meet her face-to-face.” He laughed. “It would give me the chance to change her into all sorts of bizarre things. Maybe a three-legged baboon. Or a blind snake . . .”
She managed a smile. “If she seeks me out, I suppose we’ll face her together.”
“Damn right we will.”
She let her head loll against his shoulder. Caressing his skin from the cove of his throat to the hard lines of his chest, she said, “I’m glad I melted the protective shell you built around your heart.”
Lucian lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “When I recognized you at the party, I could hardly breathe.”
Now he deserves teasing. “You could hardly breathe, but you managed to dance with that horrid Elisabeth.”
His eyes widened. “Were you jealous?”
“What do you think?”
He cocked a brow charmingly.
“We never got a chance to dance in public,” she went on. “Even after our wedding today.”
“I have an idea.” He sprang to his knees. “Let’s dance right now. A private wedding waltz, shall we say?”
“Dance? Here?”
Lucian nodded. “Look in the wardrobe.”
Giselle shot him a quizzical stare before she rushed to the walnut armoire and flung open its doors. There hung a row of lavish ball gowns, each more beautiful than the next.
“Try on the peach one. I bought it to complement your hair.”
“Oh, Lucian,” she gushed.
Giselle took several minutes in the dressing room, washing off and stepping carefully into the exquisite gown. When she emerged, she saw that Lucian had dressed in aristocratic finery. Her pulse leapt. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
Taking a glance around the bedchamber, she noticed that he’d moved the furniture aside to create space for a waltz.
“May I have this dance?” He extended his hand gallantly.
She curtsied in response. Then disappointment rose within her. “We don’t have any music.”
“Your singing will be the perfect accompaniment.”
Giselle began to hum a romantic aria by Verdi. As Lucian twirled her into his arms and a ray of sunlight settled a brilliant, gold shimmer on his ring, there was no doubt in Giselle’s mind that she’d found her forever home.
Outside the window, a bird landed on the narrow ledge. As it watched Lucian and Giselle swirl around the room exchanging loving looks, it tilted its feathery head to the side.
Then, blinking its eyes furiously, the bird bowed its beak in reverence.
How I wish I could talk, it thought. Curse that malicious Ileana Zpda!
Just as Giselle had been a young woman trapped in an old woman’s body, he was a thirteen-year-old boy trapped inside the bird’s body. Ileana had transformed him into a robin out of spite—and had controlled his fate ever since.
He, as a bird, hadn’t really died when Lucian attempted to reverse the spell. The enchantress had just made it look so.
Now that Lucian has succeeded in bringing the woman he loves back to normalcy, I intend to be human again.
The robin gave the newly-married couple another bow before it swooped away. But it planned to return.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I wrote this novella, loosely based on Peter Tchaikovsky’s fairy tale ballet, Swan Lake, I was inspired by the power of beauty and by the notion of opposites.
New love versus rekindled love.
A man ready to move on versus a woman who still loves him.
And of course, physical beauty versus inner ugliness.
I realize that difficulties can befall both beautiful and ugly people, but a young soul imprisoned inside an elderly body would encounter a whole new set of problems. In A Warlock’s Dance, Giselle Swenov must maneuver her way in an unforgiving world—and fight for her survival as a weak, old woman. For the first time, she gains an understanding of what it’s like to be disadvantaged. And her empathy makes her appreciate Lucian’s love in a whole new light.
There’s no doubt that falling for a warlock would come with loads of benefits, but I’m convinced that loving a man without paranormal powers can be great, too. At least my husband can’t turn me into a slimy slug when he gets mad at me!
I hope you enjoyed A Warlock’s Dance. It was great fun expounding on the story of Giselle, who makes a brief appearance in the second Cursed Princes novel, Snow White and the Vampire.
Want to read more Marina Myles?
Don’t miss Beauty and the Wolf and Snow White and the
Vampire, now available wherever ebooks are sold.
Turn the page for a sneak peek at Sleeping Beauty and the Demon (The Cursed Princes #3)—A scintillating romance coming August 2014!
A mysterious illusionist has crossed oceans and continents to be with Rose Carlisle. Using magic offstage, he unlocks forbidden secrets from her past and draws out her darkest desires.
Is Rose curious enough to sacrifice everything for him? Even when she suspects him of murder? If she lets her guard down, curiosity might kill more than the cat. . . .
CHAPTER ONE
New York City
1912
A torrential downpour bounced off the sloping roof of the Sunshine Theatre. Inside the auditorium, an eager audience sat riveted by Dragomir Starkov’s onstage presence.
Dressed in black, he moved with confidence. With his hair slicked back from a widow’s peak and his eyes drawing the crowd into his mirage, he spoke in a heavy Romanian accent. “Ladies and gentlemen. I will now attempt something few magicians dare. I’ll try and bring a creature back to life.”
Turning to the rear of the stage, he hid his hands from view. When he faced the audience again, he presented the body of what appeared to be a dead kitten. The small animal hung limply across his open palm. Murmuring a low chant, he waved it from side to side. Then, with a flick of his white-gloved fingers, he urged the kitten back to life.
The small cat sat up erect and blinked with astonishment. As it let out a satisfied “meow,” it sprang to the floor.
The audience clapped wildly. In turn, Drago stepped forward. That’s when he spotted the woman he had willed to come to tonight’s show.
With an abundance of flaxen hair that swayed from a ponytail like wheat in a summer breeze and a flawless complexion that glowed against the stage’s low-lying gaslights, the young woman’s beauty imprisoned Drago like a padlock. In the sparkle of her violet eyes he saw something amazing—a unique essence of goodness that compelled him as he often compelled others.
She’s even more beautiful than she was in my vision.
The girl flashed him a smile—and when it illuminated his world of darkness like a spotlight, the need to protect and possess her rose within him. But it didn’t matter how he felt. He was here to banish a cruel curse that had been cast upon her when she was a baby. And if he wanted to cast his unique spell over her, he needed to hypnotize her now.
A hush fell over the theater. Clasping his hands behind his back, Drago paced the stage with a caged energy. “For my next trick, I need a female volunteer from the audience.”
Numerous hands went up. He ignored them. Once he unlaced his dark cape, he threw it into the wings. “I need a very special participant for this mystifying trick.”
Pressing his forefinger to his temple, he pretended to use his powers of telepathy. Just then, the beautiful blond girl left her seat, alongside her dark-haired friend. They scurried to the theatre’s center aisle, apparently averse to the thought of being called on to volunteer.
“You there!” Drago thundered.
The duo froze in their tracks and wheeled around.
Pulling on her thick,
blond ponytail, Rose—her name popped into Drago’s head suddenly—blushed.
“You, my dear.” He galloped halfway down the staircase at the side of the stage and extended his hand.
“Go on, Rose!” her friend encouraged.
Rose smoothed her gingham dress. She joined Drago on the shadowed staircase then took his hand. As Drago grasped hers, an alarming chill raced up his spine. And when her pink lips spread into another shy smile, he found himself completely enchanted.
Leading her to center stage he said, “Please tell the audience your name, Miss.”
“It’s Rose Carlisle.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell the spectators how old you are.”
“Very well,” she replied in a sweet, clear voice.
He cleared his throat. “Today is your birthday, and you are twenty years old.” The number surfaced in his mind as surely as he knew his own day of birth.
Rose’s jaw dropped open. She nodded vigorously. “How did you know?” Her friend, who had returned to her seat in the front row, mirrored her stunned expression.
Drago felt his affinity for the doe-eyed beauty grow. Yet he urged himself to be careful—and to make her feel as comfortable with him as possible.
“It doesn’t take a magician to see that you’ve attended this show without your parents’ permission,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Miss Carlisle?”
The crowd chuckled lightly at the joke. Rose looked stunned. “I haven’t seen my parents since I was a baby. But my adoptive parents don’t know I’m here.”
“I see,” Drago remarked lightheartedly. But when he saw Rose clutching her hands together nervously, he sensed her pain ran deep.
“Have you ever been a magician’s assistant?”
“No,” Rose replied. “In fact, this is my first magic show.”
“We’ll have to make it one you’ll never forget.”
Her small, velvet hand trembled inside his at the suggestion.
“Promise me you won’t be anxious,” he said. “I would never allow harm to come to you.”
She slid a glance his way—and they locked eyes for what felt like an eternity.
“I’ll try not to be nervous,” she finally promised. “What do I have to do?”
“Absolutely nothing. Just close your lovely eyes and remain in one spot.”
Rose did as she was told. Drago took the chance to study her high cheekbones, dainty mouth, and hourglass figure. Though she was tall, her demeanor lent her a fragile air. She seemed to him a porcelain doll which could be broken easily if handled improperly.
While Rose kept her eyes closed, he massaged the air in front of him with his fingertips. As he murmured something inaudible, Rose’s feet lifted slowly away from the ground.
It appeared as if someone were pulling her legs out from under her. Eventually, her torso, limbs, and head reached a plane parallel to the stage floor and she was levitating in space.
The crowd gasped as Drago reached for a large silver hoop. He proceeded to pass the circle back and forth around Rose’s stiff body. When he twisted and turned it in every direction, the audience gasped again. The trick, which he’d performed only once, proved it had the power to intrigue.
“Are you doing all right, Rose?” Drago asked in a gentle voice.
She nodded. Her ponytail swung toward the wooden floor.
“Excellent.” Drago passed the silver hoop to his auburn-haired assistant, Katherine. “Ladies and gentlemen. I have a confession to make. The second half of this trick is new even to me. However, it’s something I feel bold enough to try with Miss Carlisle’s help.”
Drago’s official assistant cast him an angry look. He continued on anyway. “Katherine, would you hand me that red silk drape?”
Clearly irritated, Katherine moved to the tiny prop table in the corner. Once she passed a large cloth to Drago, he unfolded it and draped it over the length of Rose’s levitating body.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a low tone. “Making a woman hover in mid-air is one thing. But what if I made her . . . disappear?”
Drago whipped off the red drape and exposed nothing but empty space. Men in pinstriped suits leapt to their feet and women uttered cries of astonishment.
When the audience’s enthusiastic clapping subsided, Drago removed his gloves. “Now I’ll make our lovely Rose reappear. Just . . . like . . . that.”
Snapping his fingers loudly he moved to a cabinet in the middle of the stage. He opened the cabinet’s door with an exaggerated gesture, and there stood a pale-faced Rose. Grinning, Drago took her hand and helped her out. Together they walked to the front of the stage and were greeted by thunderous applause.
As he took one step away from Rose, Drago bowed to her as well. Her cheeks regained their color—and she looked at him as though he were the most wonderful man in the world.
Although leaving her was the last thing he desired to do, he had no choice. Drago came closer to her and pressed something into her hand. Then he mouthed the haunting words, “Wear this and come back to me.”
Rose’s hand closed around the item the handsome magician had placed in her palm. The curtain closed with a dramatic whoosh—and as she stumbled up the aisle, she unfurled her hand and stared at the object. It was a beautiful amulet on a silver chain that bore mysterious Egyptian engravings.
eKENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
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New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 by Marina Myles
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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First Electronic Edition: May 2014
ISBN: 978-1-6018-3285-6