by Rebecca York
“Come into my house and make yourself comfortable,” Rafe said.
As she studied the property, she struggled to remember as many details as possible. The entrance to the house was beautifully landscaped with bright flowers and fruit trees: lemons hung nearby. Also oranges and plums. Beyond the trees, a cheerful fountain bubbled.
This was no small estate. It was a luxury enclave that only a very rich man could afford.
“Come in,” he said again, gesturing for her to go inside. Beyond the doorway, a woman in a black dress and a formally attired man waited. Both looked to be in their fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair. The man was lean and tall. The woman was short and plump.
“This is Tessa Thalia,” he said to them. “Please make sure she has everything she needs.”
“Yes sir.”
“Tessa, these are Mr. and Mrs. Vincent.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tessa said politely.
“They take care of the house for me.”
“Um.” She smiled at the couple, and they smiled back. Were they being friendly? Or were they just doing what their master commanded? She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t have a chance to study them further.
“We’ll be on the patio. Please bring us some refreshments.” He looked at Tessa. “What would you like?”
She thought for a moment and dredged up something. “Iced tea.”
“And some of those wonderful sandwiches that cook makes,” Rafe added.
They walked through the large entrance hall. Off to the side Tessa saw a formal living room and dining room. He led the way to a large airy space that was set up like a Spanish courtyard with another fountain, pots of flowers, and comfortable wicker furniture.
He gestured to a small sofa under a wide awning, and she sat down, trying to take it all in.
Perhaps Rafe had called ahead, because the food and drink came almost immediately. Then the servants withdrew, leaving them alone.
She took a sip of tea, which was excellent, then picked up a sandwich quarter and nibbled. It was chicken salad. Also very good.
“You will be very comfortable here,” Rafe said.
He didn’t eat or drink—only watched her until she put down the glass with a shaky hand.
He stroked her arm. “Don’t be afraid of me.”
She swallowed. “You’re not what I expected.”
“Of course not. For almost two thousand years, the Ionians have been . . . prejudiced against the Minot. They wanted you to think I was dangerous. But it’s not true.”
“Then why did you have to kidnap me?”
“I explained that. It was the only way to get you alone, so we could get to know each other. You don’t think your sisters would have allowed me access to you at the spa, do you?”
“I guess that’s right.”
“Since we’re free to do what we want, let me show you what we can mean to each other.”
She should refuse, but when he reached for her, she let him pull her close.
She’d been deathly afraid of him. At this moment she felt safe in his strong arms. She’d had lovers, of course, but her loyalty had always been to her sisters. Suddenly, everything had shifted, as though she was in a speeding vehicle that had unaccountably changed directions.
When she eased back and tipped her face up, she found that her mouth was only inches from his. He looked down at her with an intensity that made her blood heat to boiling point, yet she told herself it wasn’t too late to pull away. Somewhere in her mind she knew she should pull away, but she stayed where she was for a breathless second and then another.
“Tessa.” He said her name with aching tenderness as he covered her mouth with his and moved his lips over hers. The kiss carried so many emotions. He was comforting and needy and, at the same time, sexy.
She closed her eyes, shutting out the world so that she could focus on the man who was weaving a magic spell around her.
Perhaps he was doing something to her mind as he brushed his mouth against her, angling his head and deepening the kiss. But no mind game could account for the seductive taste of him. The soft velvet of his lips. The heat radiating from his body.
She loved all that. Did she love the man as well?
Maybe not, but did that matter? In a gesture of surrender, she lifted her arms, circling his neck.
She felt him smile against her lips as they kissed. His hands came around her waist, gathering her closer as he turned his head first one way and then the other to change the angle of the kiss, then change it again.
Somewhere in her mind, doubt flickered. Everything she had been taught from childhood told her this was wrong. She shouldn’t be in his arms. She shouldn’t be kissing him. But it was impossible to hold on to that conviction when it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be close to him like this. As she nestled in his embrace, she could imagine what it would be like to share more than this kiss with him.
She made a small sound deep in her throat, telling him she liked what he was doing. When his tongue dipped further into her mouth, she felt hot, needy sensations swirling through her body.
His hands stroked up and down her ribs, against the sides of her breasts, and she wanted to beg for more. She’d forgotten where they were. Forgotten why she shouldn’t allow this man—above all others—such liberties.
SOPHIA felt a terrible pressure bearing down on her as though she were deep under the sea with tons of water squeezing the life from every cell of her body.
She gasped, sagging against Jason, who kept his arms around her, holding her up.
“You have betrayed us,” Cynthia said. “You are no better than he is.”
Jason raised his head, and she knew he was making a tremendous effort to speak. “Let her go. She only wanted to help me get away.”
“She made her own choices and sealed her own fate.”
Sophia clung to Jason to stay on her feet. Fighting the force around her with every ounce of power she possessed, she spoke to her sisters.
“This happened because I came to Cynthia about Tessa, but she refused to help me find my sister. I pleaded with her to discuss it with everyone, but she said that the Ionians were not a democracy and the decision was hers alone.” She paused to drag in a breath and let it out. “But I can’t just let Tessa go. Cynthia says she’s lost to us. How can any of you accept that? And how can you deny me the chance to find her—with Jason’s help.”
She heard voices babbling around her as the sisters all began to speak at once.
“Silence,” someone called out.
It wasn’t Cynthia. It was Eugenia.
In the sudden quiet, she addressed the high priestess. “Is that true?”
Cynthia gave her an angry look. “Yes.”
“Abandoning Tessa is not your decision alone.”
Cynthia raised her chin. “I am the high priestess, and I think it is. She left the spa on her own. Nobody kidnapped her.”
“We must not act so hastily,” Eugenia answered. “We are few in numbers, and every one of us is precious to the order. We have fewer daughters now than when Tessa was born.”
Suddenly, Sophia felt some of the pressure on her body ease, and she dragged in a grateful breath. “Thank you, Eugenia,” she whispered.
“What else can you tell us?” the older woman asked.
“Cynthia said that because the Minot had what he wanted, the rest of us were safe. But we don’t even know if that’s true,” Sophia protested.
“There’s something else you need to understand,” Jason said in a strong voice that had them all switching their attention to him. “Something important you don’t know about the Minot.”
Sophia heard more than his words. She caught what was in his mind, and it jolted her.
You wanted to get close to me to lift a curse?
Not just that!
Had he spoken aloud? She wasn’t sure above the roaring in her ears.
The betrayal slammed into her. The shock was too much for her sy
stem, and she would have fallen, but Jason caught her in his strong arms and cradled her against his body.
“Sophia! No.”
He was too strong for her to break from his grasp. But she had to get away from him, and her only refuge was unconsciousness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JASON CRADLED SOPHIA in his arms.
“What have you done to her?” the one named Eugenia asked. Like the rest of the Ionians, she looked young, but he sensed that she was much older than Sophia.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’”
“She was hearing my thoughts. She thinks that I got close to her to lift a curse.”
“Did you?”
He swallowed. “That was part of it.”
The woman made a rough sound. “So much for your integrity.”
“I think you’ll want to hear my explanation. Where can I lay her down?”
After a short hesitation, she answered, “The guest lounge.”
He walked along with the women, carrying Sophia, feeling strange to be surrounded by her sisters.
But they weren’t his focus. Sophia was his main concern.
As he cradled her in his arms, he spoke silently to her.
It’s not what you think. The curse is only part of it. I wanted to bond with you, the way my parents bonded. I wanted the joy they created together. I knew I could only find that with an Ionian. And from the first moment we met, I knew that was you.
He kept speaking to her urgently, saying the same thing over and over. Praying that he was getting through to her.
Did she stir?
“Sophia?”
She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t speak to him or reach for his hand.
When he saw the others watching them, he stared straight ahead, wishing he and Sophia could be alone.
He had said he would lay her down, but he simply couldn’t turn her loose. As he cradled her in his lap, she opened her eyes and stared at him, and he felt the breath freeze in his chest.
TESSA pressed her hands against Rafe’s chest, pushing him away.
A moment ago she’d been under his spell. Then a bolt of strong sensation had made her realize she was walking down a dangerous path.
Well, not just a bolt from the blue. She was sure it had something to do with Sophia—calling out a warning across the miles that separated them. A warning about this man? Or all Minot?
She didn’t know. But it had jolted her from her sensual fog.
She opened her eyes to see Rafe Garrison looking at her questioningly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.
“I don’t know.” She blinked at him. “We shouldn’t be . . . making love.”
He gave her a regretful look. “Of course. I don’t mean to push you too fast. You need to rest. Let me show you to your room.”
To her relief, he stood up.
She also got to her feet and swayed for a moment on shaky legs. He reached out to steady her, then dropped his hand when she made a little motion to warn him away.
He looked at her with concern and pressed his lips together. When she was standing more firmly, he said, “This way.”
He led her back into the main part of the house, then down another hallway to what must be the bedroom wing. When he opened a door and gestured for her to step inside, she found herself in a room that was like something out of a seventeenth-century French château, with white and gold furniture, an heirloom Oriental rug, and a painting of cherubs and clouds on the ceiling. The bed was wide, with a brocade spread that matched the padded headboard and the drapes.
He crossed the patterned rug and opened another door, revealing a large dressing area with women’s clothing hanging on either side and a luxurious bath beyond.
As she eyed the wardrobe, he smiled. “I knew your size—and taste.”
“Oh,” she managed to say, wondering exactly how he had gotten the information and when he had done the ordering.
He stepped back into the bedroom and neatly folded down the spread. “You should lie down and rest. I’ll be in my office when you get up. It’s right down the hall from my bedroom, which is the next room over.”
Before she could comment, he left her alone, quietly closing the door.
She rushed over and made sure it wasn’t locked from the outside. Then she turned the knob on the inside, before walking to one of the windows and raising the sash, sighing with relief when she determined that she could easily get out of the room and that it was only a short drop to the ground.
But then what? In the car, she’d traveled through mile upon mile of brown hills with no sign of habitation. Where would she go if she could get off the estate?
RAFE stood outside the bedroom door burning for the woman beyond the barrier. He’d heard her lock the door, but a flimsy lock wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to get inside.
If he went in, he was sure he could persuade her to continue where they’d left off.
Too bad he knew in his heart that it was still the wrong course of action. He had to let her regain her strength, then make her think she was reaching out to him.
But it didn’t have to be entirely real. He knew how to make that happen.
Meanwhile, he could have the pleasure of crowing about his progress. Down the hall in his office, he picked up the phone, and dialed a familiar number.
“Hello,” a voice said on the other end of the line. The man was another Minot. Although Minot rarely worked together in the modern world, Rafe had decided he needed an ally if he was going to bring his plans to fruition. After checking out scores of his brethren, he’d decided that this guy was his best bet. He was older than Rafe, experienced in the ways of the world and also a sworn enemy of the Ionians because he believed they had ruined his life.
“It’s Rafe Garrison.”
“Why are you calling?” came the sharp retort.
Rafe ignored the annoyance in the other man’s voice. “As I told you I would, I have captured one of the Ionians.”
“Okay. You’ve managed that much.”
Although Rafe wanted this man’s help, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You don’t sound too impressed.”
There was only silence on the other end of the line.
Rafe tried another approach. “You want to get even with them—for what they did to you.”
The response was instantaneous. “Yes.”
“Then come to my estate. I’m sure we can work out a plan to make the rest of them wish they’d never screwed with you.”
“I’ve stayed away from them for years. Why do you want to help me now?”
“Because I have a plan that will interest you.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We can’t discuss it over the phone.”
“You really think you can just walk into their compound and do anything you want? They have safeguards you haven’t even thought about.”
“I got a man in there.”
“And the fire put them on guard.”
“You know about that?”
“Of course.”
“So you’re keeping track of them.”
“I don’t have to talk to you about my activities.”
Rafe sensed he was losing control of the conversation and felt his composure slipping. He’d better get off the phone before he said something he regretted. “Just give it some consideration and get back to me.”
“TELL us what you’ve been hiding about yourself,” Sophia said in a hard voice.
Jason had already tried to tell her silently as he’d carried her inside. Hadn’t she heard any of it? He’d have to say it all over again. In front of her sisters.
It wasn’t the way he wanted to have this conversation with her, but he knew he had no options.
When she moved off his lap, he clenched his fist. But she stayed on the couch near him.
Tension coursed through him, and not just because everybody in the room was watching t
hem. He’d boldly said he would tell them about the curse, but now his mouth had turned dry.
He looked at the women staring at him. This was it. Either they believed what he had to say, or . . .
He didn’t want to examine the alternative, so he said, “You’ve forgotten a lot of things about us. And we’ve forgotten the same things about ourselves.”
“Are you implying you alone know something the rest of them don’t?” Eugenia asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because my parents dared to explore their heritage. Working together, they were able to uncover secrets that no one remembered. An Ionian and a Minot who can join forces have more power than either of them has alone.”
“Or you think they have,” Cynthia snapped.
Knowing he had to give them more information, Jason began to speak again. “The reason the Minot are so focused on the Ionians isn’t because they’re the descendants of the ancient warriors. They are the ancient warriors.”
As he’d expected, there were reactions of surprise and disbelief around the room. He was introducing a completely new idea, and one that had vast implications for the relationship between the Minot and the Ionians.
“Explain that,” Cynthia demanded.
“They were fierce warriors, but they became overconfident and got into trouble when they invaded Scythia. They thought they were going after a primitive people, but the Scythians were very advanced in the mental arts. They cursed the Minot.”
Cynthia glared at him. “Go on.”
“The curse was that they would be doomed to be reincarnated over and over with no hope of a satisfying life. Sometimes it would seem as though things were going to work out for them. But no matter how successful they were, it would always end in disaster. Then they’d be forced to start the cycle over again.”
“And the others don’t know this?” Cynthia asked in an even voice.
“No. They may have glimpses of their past lives—usually in dreams—but they don’t know what it all means. Not really.” He paused again. “I’ve dreamed of my former failures. It would be nice to think I made up those episodes, but I know that they’re my true history.”