Drace still knelt on one knee, sword in hand, and his head bowed. There were small flakes of wood and bits of leaves in Drace’s hair. The blood from the small cut had dried in a line down his cheek and onto his neck. His eyes were gray with his emotions. When Cerise came to stand in front of him, he looked up at her.
Cerise swallowed past a lump that formed in her throat at the emotional exhaustion that she saw in him. “When I went to the barn I saw the horses hadn’t been fed and Pride’s stall was open. I fed everyone and then came looking. Since you weren’t at your house, I thought you must be out looking too,” she explained her presence.
Cerise knelt down on both knees next to him. “Drace, what’s wrong?”
“Ki is pregnant,” he said, still resting on his sword.
Cerise stared at him in astonishment. “What?”
Drace lurched to his feet and then helped Cerise up.
“How in the name of Heaven do you know that?”
“I dreamed it last night. Don’t ask me how I know it’s true, but it is.”
“But…,” Cerise began and followed him to where his sweatshirt lay on the ground and his sword belt hung. She waited until he had sheathed his sword before continuing. “Why didn’t she tell you?”
“I have no idea,” Drace replied. “Did you walk?” At her nod he whistled for Pride.
The black stallion walked over to him and lowered his head for a rub. Drace snapped the lead rope to Pride’s halter then swung up onto the horse’s back. He stuck a booted foot out for her to step up on and reached down a hand. “Ahsa hoy.”
“What does that mean?” Cerise asked, taking his hand.
“Up, you,” he answered, and gave her a big pull so she could swing up on Pride behind him.
On the ride back, Drace told her about calling Maggie Shaffer. “I’m driving up to D. C. tomorrow morning. I’ll be gone two, three days.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, but I will ask you to take care of the horses. I hate to ask Lorrie or her crew to watch my stock if I don’t have to. They’re busy enough as it is.”
“I’d be happy to take care of them. Just call if you’ll be longer than three days so I don’t worry, okay?”
They stopped in front of the barn and Drace helped Cerise slide down. He dismounted after her and led Pride back to his stall for his own breakfast.
Cerise stopped him after he put Pride inside. “Are you okay?”
Drace gave her a sad smile. “No, I’m not, but I’ll get by.”
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up? I’ll turn the horses out when they’re finished,” she offered, reaching up to pull a leaf from his hair.
“Thanks,” he accepted and walked slowly back to his house, carrying his sword.
Chapter Forty-Four
DRACE STOOD IN FRONT of Maggie Shaffer’s apartment door, wearing a knee length, black wool dress coat over a hand tailored suit. He checked his dress watch and then nodded a hello to some of Maggie’s neighbors as they headed for the elevators. He could feel them staring as the doors closed.
His mouth twisted in amusement as he knocked lightly, then took a step back. Drace heard someone come to the door, a pause as they peeped out the security hole, and then the sliding of the safety chain. The door opened and a five-four flaming redhead stood staring up at him.
Drace’s amusement grew. “Miss Shaffer?”
Her lips, painted a pale pink, parted, “Drace MacKinnon?”
At his nod, she moved to the side. “Come in, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, well, that you were so big.”
Drace laughed, the rich sound echoing in her entryway.
Maggie led him into her living room. She was willowy for her height. Her red hair was to her shoulder blades, in curls of loose ringlets. Her full skirted, black dress was low in the back, showing an expanse of creamy white skin. Maggie turned to him. “Please have a seat. I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my coat and purse.”
“I’m good,” Drace answered. “Take your time.”
Maggie hurried from the room, leaving Drace to wander the living room, admiring her collection of Egyptian art.
Drace didn’t know what he had expected Maggie to look like, but the woman at the door wasn’t it. This function boiled down to a blind date as far as he was concerned and Maggie turned out to be a pleasant surprise. She was a beauty. Her face was classically pretty with a gorgeous complexion. For someone who was bound to spend a lot of time in the sun, she was very fair. Her eyes were a dark moss green. Her dress was low cut in front as well so he couldn’t help but notice she had beautiful full breasts.
He tried to focus on some sort of jar with hieroglyphics on it so she wouldn’t come back and catch him thinking about her breasts.
Meanwhile Maggie was in her room fanning her hot face. Good God that man’s a looker. And big. She had not seen him that clearly when she saw him in Las Vegas. He had ridden some black, dancing horse and worn a hat and his hair had been up. As the Black Knight he wore a helmet. The armor had left her guessing to his true physique.
Now he stood in her living room in what had to be a hand tailored suit to fit his big frame. She would bet her next paycheck it was Armani. His dark hair was shoulder length and he wore it loose. When she opened the door she saw his beautiful smile and the sexiest eyes she had ever seen on a man. Just the hint of Polo had caught her nose when he had walked past. He moved gracefully for his size, causing her heart rate to jump into overdrive. Get a grip, Maggie girl, she told herself, as she strapped on a pair of black, high heel shoes. She grabbed her coat and purse and returned to the living room.
Drace stood focused on a framed print of hieroglyphics from a Pharaoh’s tomb. At the sound of Maggie’s approach, he turned and his face relaxed. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Drace stepped forward and took her coat from her and helped her into it. She picked up her keys from a table by the door and they left her apartment, taking the elevator to the basement parking lot.
He opened the door of his truck for her and took her hand to help her into the passenger’s seat. He went around the driver’s side, got in and started the engine. He glanced sideways at her. “Co-pilot has to navigate,” he said. “I’m sure you know all the short cuts.”
“You, Mr. MacKinnon, turned out to be a pleasant surprise,” Maggie braved as they got out of the garage and she directed him which way to turn.
“Oh, and how is that?”
“Let me just say that you clean up very nicely.”
“I guess if we’re doing confessions, I’ll have to say you aren’t what I expected either, “but I like it,” he teased.
Maggie blushed. “Thank you.”
“Did anyone ever tell you Miss Shaffer, that you have a sexy voice?”
“Someone once told me it was like sin,” she said, with note of pain in her voice.
“Someone you cared about once,” Drace guessed.
Maggie turned and looked out the window. “Yes…a long time ago. Take the next right.”
“I’m sorry Maggie. I didn’t mean to pry.
“No, it’s okay. He came into my life, tore it apart and then left. It surprises me how much it can still hurt, even after all this time.” She changed the subject, “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Braveheart crashed into Hugh Jackman?” she teased.
Drace burst out laughing, causing her to smile. “You are the first,” he said. “I have to say I like you, Maggie.”
“The feeling is mutual, Drace. You might want to wait, however, until I give my boring speech before you make final judgment.”
“What is your speech about?” he asked, following her final direction and pulling up to a curb where there was valet.
“It’s about fascinating artifacts I found this trip, some translation on some new text, and of course the ever present plea for more funding to continue research.”
Surprisingly, Drace enjoyed himself. The speeches were given d
uring dinner and he found most of the topics interesting. He and Maggie had been paired at a table with an elderly couple, the woman proving to be very hard of hearing. She was also talkative. Fortunately there was dancing afterward and her husband kept her up for several numbers.
The couple was taking a break when the woman turned her attention to Drace. “What do you do for a living, young man?” she asked.
“I raise horses, ma’am,” he answered.
“Aren’t you a bit big for racing? Jockeys are suppose to be small,” she argued.
“I race Clydesdales, ma’am,” he said, his face very serious. He heard Maggie choke beside him. He reached around and enthusiastically patted her on the back.
“Aren’t the Clydesdales the ones that pull that beer wagon? I bet you drink a lot of beer, don’t you son?”
“Yes ma’am. It doesn’t hurt as bad if your drunk when you fall off.”
Maggie and the lady’s husband exploded into laughter, causing heads to turn.
Drace grabbed Maggie’s hand and mouthed. “Dance?” When she nodded he pulled her up and they escaped to the dance floor leaving the lady looking puzzled at her husband.
Maggie was still giggling when he pulled her close for the slow song. “That was so bad,” she said. “But so funny. That woman is the biggest busy body.” Maggie heard the low rumble of Drace’s laughter near her ear.
“Let me guess. Her husband donates considerable amounts to the museum so everyone puts up with her.”
“Bingo!” Maggie exclaimed. “You are a smart man.”
The song ended and Maggie assumed they would return to their seats but Drace held her with a big hand on the small of her back. He lowered his head so she could hear him better, giving the appearance to others that he might be going to kiss her. “Stay. Our dinner companions are leaving. Give them a minute.”
“Hallelujah,” Maggie replied and let him gather her near again.
“Oh look, dear. Aren’t they sweet together?” the old lady said to her husband in a loud voice as he helped her with her coat. “I bet they have sex tonight. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Oh, Christ!” Drace swore, color staining his high cheekbones. He felt Maggie shaking with laughter, her own face bright red.
The couple finally left and when the song ended, Drace led Maggie back to the table. A waiter arrived to take a drink order, and Drace ordered a Coke while Maggie asked for a white wine.
“Cola? I’m shocked,” Maggie observed.
“When I’m driving pretty women around, I don’t risk it,” he told her. “But after that old harridan’s comment, a scotch would have been nice.”
“You make it sound like it’s a horrible idea.” Maggie felt a bit insulted.
“It’s not that it’s a bad idea. I just don’t think the whole room should be in on it,” he answered and felt his cheeks flush.
Maggie leaned in so only Drace could hear. “You wanted to talk about my research. Let’s go back to my place where we can actually hear each other and I’ll show you some of my findings.”
“That is an excellent idea. Let me whistle up my Clydesdale so we can leave.”
Chapter Forty-Five
DRACE LOOSENED HIS TIE after entering Maggie’s apartment. He left his coat and suit jacket on the coat tree by the door. Maggie disappeared into the kitchen and came out a minute later with a tumbler of scotch and a glass of white wine.
He sat sipping the scotch while she gathered up some papers off a desk in the corner of the room.
Maggie sat beside him on the couch and unstrapped and removed her shoes. “I found some interesting things on this last trip. I was finally allowed back into the tomb of the priest where I found the original reference to Arahtok. Most of this stuff was on scrolls, which are fragile with age. Breathe wrong and they’ll disintegrate. But on one wall in a corner of the tomb were more engravings on Arahtok and a lesser God, Zakar.”
“Jesus,” Drace breathed, leaning forward slightly. “Let me guess. Zakar’s form is represented as a half wolf, half man image, and he’s more a God of the Underworld.”
“How in the world do you know that?”
“I know a considerable amount about these particular gods, actually,” he said.
“Here,” Maggie said, taking his glass, “let me top that off.” She pushed off the couch and took both their glasses. Drace watched the gentle sway of her hips as she left.
Maggie came back in the room with their drinks. She sat the drinks on the end table and then impulsively she moved in front of him reached over and took one booted foot in her hand. She gave a tug and the boot slid off easily, causing him to grunt in protest.
“Shh,” Maggie soothed. She reached up his trouser leg, found the top of his sock, and pulled it down. She looked up into his dumbfounded blue-gray eyes. The touch of her small hand on his calf caused heat to pool in his groin.
“Give me your other foot,” she ordered softly and unthinking, he did as she asked.
When she leaned over for the other boot all he could focus on was the creamy expanse of her breasts in front of him and the touch of her hand on his leg. He made a sound that caused her to look up into his eyes, now gone dark blue with heat.
He reached out and touched a red curl. “Sweet Maggie,” he whispered.
She slipped one strap of her dress off her shoulder. She saw him swallow hard as the second strap followed, his eyes not leaving hers.
Drace was in agony. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should get up and leave right now. But something in his mind shut out all rational thought. His erection was pushing at the front of his trousers and he knew she could see it. He wanted to move but he sat frozen.
Maggie knelt beside him on the couch and then, pulling up her skirt, she moved to straddle his lap.
Maggie, I can’t,” he said in weak protest.
She didn’t say anything but pushed the bodice of her dress further down until her breasts were exposed to him.
His hands came up of their own violation and touched her on her sides underneath her breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed and felt something in his control snap, leaving him feeling primitive as he moved one hand to the back of her head and pulled her down. It wasn’t a gently kiss and when she moaned, his tongue entered her mouth and mated with hers. He touched her breast then and filled his hand with it. He broke the kiss, moving his mouth down her throat, scraping lightly with his teeth. He moved lower, feasting on her breasts, nipping and licking her nipples, and she arched her back, giving him better access, crying out. Her pelvis rocked in his lap, her heat moving against his erection, hot through the material of his pants and her satin panties.
He found the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged it down, then pulled the dress over her head.
Maggie’s hands moved to remove his tie and worked at the buttons of his dress shirt. She had to feel him under her hands.
Drace worked his cuff links out behind her back as she loosened his belt, and then undid the fastening and zipper of his trousers. Damn, but she’s hot, he thought and tossed the cuff links on the coffee table. She had his belt undone and was pulling his shirt from his waistband.
Finally, she had his shirt loose and ran her hands over his bare chest. She leaned back to look at him, noticing a tattoo on his chest, and the scar on his lean belly, which she traced with a finger, causing him to shiver.
Drace slipped a hand between them and lightly stroked her through her panties and she bucked into his fingers.
“Please, please,” she simpered, arching back hard, leaning into his hand on the small of her back.
He continued to touch her and she was suddenly climaxing hard against his fingers. She cried out with it then looked at him, her green eyes dazed.
Her hands moved back to the fly of his trousers, working quickly, wanting more of him. Suddenly his hands gripped her bottom and she felt the surge of his powerful thighs as he stood with her.
“Bedroom?” he asked against her neck as
he stepped around the table, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.
Maggie wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his broad shoulders. “Down the hall, and to the left,” she directed, in a husky whisper.
Halfway down the hall, Drace paused. “Shit,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, still slightly unfocused.
“Hold on to me,” he said and moved to step out of his pants as they slid south. “I’m gonna trip and kill us both.”
Maggie giggled as he leaned against the wall and kicked first one then the other foot to remove his trousers from around his ankles.
Free at last, he continued down the hall. It was dark in her bedroom except for a small lamp on her dressing table. Together, they fell on her bed. Drace caught himself with his hands as he let go of her bottom. He couldn’t touch her enough as he jerked at her panties and slid them off.
He didn’t say anything as Maggie shoved at his boxer briefs, pushing them off his hips. He helped her get them the rest of the way then she pushed his shirt off as well.
When he was completely undressed, she let her hands wander, exploring him. She gently touched the length of his member and he thought her hand would burn him.
A voice in his head chanted, Take her. She’s yours. Take her; take her. He groaned against her throat and slid his hand down her belly to touch her intimately.
“What do you want, Maggie?” he asked, his voice throaty.
“You, Drace, you.”
His finger dipped inside her while his thumb did a lazy circle at her most sensitive place. She whimpered against his chest and her hands pulled at his hair. She looked at his face and saw he looked almost savage. He continued to tease her with his fingers until she felt another climax building. “I want you…,” she panted. “Inside me.”
“Not yet,” Drace denied her. “Not yet.”
He continued to touch her until her head rolled back and forth on the pillow and she begged him. He kissed her deeply then and she cried out against his mouth as she climaxed for a second time.
Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera Page 38