by Denise Lynn
Looking for a way to buy time, Alexia touched Braeden’s forearm. “Please, I’ve been up all night. Can I get some rest and then we’ll talk?”
His gaze fell on her hand. “Nice try. We’ll talk now.”
This time when he headed toward the elevators, Alexia followed. What else was she going to do? It wasn’t as if he was about to leave her alone. The doors hadn’t completely slid closed when she found her voice. “We’re done talking.”
Braeden shook his head at her statement. She didn’t really think it was going to be that easy. He leaned against the far wall. “We haven’t even started.”
Alexia backed into the opposite corner and crossed her arms. Any other man would take that as a silent signal to keep his distance. But he wasn’t any other man, and she had little hope that he’d take the hint.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said.
“There’s nothing going on.” When he glared at her, she added, “I’m fine.” She’d reached the point of exhaustion. Between her rising temper and the sick fear twisting in her gut, she was ready to scream.
“Fine?” Braeden narrowed his eyes. “Terrified is not fine.”
She hated that he could still read her moods. It only infuriated her more. “Just stop it. I said I’m fine, so let it go.” Alexia nearly hissed.
He held up the Beretta. The magazine was still in the trunk, but he retracted the slide to make sure the chamber was empty before handing it to her. “Here.”
His actions backed up his attitude. He really didn’t trust her. She dropped the gun into the pocket of her jacket.
“Why are you carrying a weapon in the first place?”
“None of your business.”
Braeden curtly reminded her, “You came to me for help. Or was that just another lie?”
She raised her head, bringing her gaze to meet his. He wouldn’t believe her, but it was the truth. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“I’m amazed you can say that with a straight face.” He edged closer, then leaned his shoulder against the back wall of the elevator. “Why did you bring a gun along? Who did you plan to shoot?”
Shocked that he could ask such a question, she let her jaw fall open for a brief moment before she sputtered, “I didn’t plan on shooting anyone. My God, Braeden, I don’t hate you or your family that much.”
“So why do you have it?”
“It isn’t important.” More to the point, it wasn’t any of his business.
“Alexia, you came here for protection. How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t know what’s happening?” His cold eyes glimmered as he asked, “How do I even know you actually need protection if I don’t know what’s going on?”
She’d had enough of his questions and insinuations. Her sigh hissed in the confined space before she asked, “Why do you bother asking me questions when you can get the answers yourself?”
“You want me to get to the bottom of this myself?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Her sarcasm only served to fire his anger. Jaw clenched, Braeden leaned away from the wall, hit the stop button on the elevator, then closed the narrow distance between them.
She felt the warmth of his body. He was too close. He loomed over her like a dark, threatening beast. She pressed her spine hard into the corner.
But he wasn’t backing off. He only leaned closer. She was unable to draw a breath. Whether she meant to or not, she’d goaded him with an invitation he obviously wasn’t about to ignore.
“If you’re so damn eager to feel my presence, look at me.”
Resisting the urge to push him away, Alexia lifted her gaze to his. And her breath came at last, long and shaky. It had been years since she’d let anyone this close to her—physically or mentally.
She gasped as his will immediately penetrated her protective wall, forcing it to crumble. Alexia shivered at the ease with which he skimmed beyond her shock at seeing his Phantom, then past the conversations in the garage and his office.
He drifted over the frustration she’d felt during the trip to the Lair. Visions of the rockslide, rain and fog sprang to life. As did her fear of being followed. The wax on her Thunderbird gave justification to that fear.
Braeden coaxed her mind further back and Alexia saw the envelope on her desk, the attack in the parking lot and her shooting the one man.
She relived seeing the limo and Phantom pull away from her town house right before the place exploded. The intensity of her fear escalated.
But the sudden trembling of her legs wasn’t from fear of those who were after her. Her roiling emotions whipped back and forth between her memories and the realization of how her earlier fears of him were mere imitations. Now, with every beat of her heart, true fear slammed at her.
He could kill or harm her with nothing more than a thought. She’d always known that. But until today, she’d feared the harm he could cause her emotionally far more than the threat of any physical danger.
“Stop it.”
The deep commanding timbre of his voice flowed into her veins like molten lava, heating her blood, bringing memories of a kiss, a touch, entwined limbs, flooding to the forefront of her mind. The memories converged with her fears—then mastered them. Their attraction had always been strong, but now it was deadly.
Long-forgotten senses and feelings came alive too suddenly to control them. Her knees nearly buckled as a path of fire snaked the length of her body, then returned to throb low in her belly.
His eyes widened, then narrowed as her mind tripped unbidden over memories best left undisturbed. But when he leaned closer and his unsteady, warm breath feathered across her cheek, she realized that he, too, was captured by the current of what bound them together. And she knew the power she held over his intrusion into her thoughts.
Alexia moaned softly and purposely remembered a time they’d been too angry at each other to sleep or even talk. Instead, they’d taken their frustration to bed.
That particular sexual encounter had been anything but gentle or loving. But it had been downright breathtaking and one of the most erotic nights they’d shared. His hands had held her steady. Her fingers had dug into his arms yanking him closer…closer.
It wasn’t hard for her to awaken not only the visual memories, but also the sensations and emotions she’d experienced. Her body had burned with lust. Every muscle, every tendon strung as tight as a bowstring, straining for fulfillment.
Braeden had set any semblance of civilized man aside and become the beast he was named for. Her dragon came to life and scared the hell out of her. For the first time she’d felt pure fear slink cold and deadly through her body.
She wanted to run away, but the glitter in his eyes mesmerized her and promised her untold passion. Held enthralled by a promise she couldn’t fathom, she remained…terrified and intrigued.
Removing her cotton summer dress proved no obstacle, as the thin fabric tore easily in one fluid rip from hem to neckline beneath his two-handed grasp. Emboldened by the action, she’d shouted at him.
Before the first curse fully left her mouth, Braeden threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of her head and jerked her closer, cutting off her words with his mouth. The unyielding kiss curled her toes.
Alexia sighed raggedly at the memory as her toes now curled inside her sneakers. She’d meant to set Braeden’s mind awhirl. But her own heart hammered and the sound of her unsteady breaths mingled with his.
He’d claimed her that night. The Dragon of Mirabilus had marked her as his mate. Ignoring her unvoiced fear, his hands, lips and tongue had set fire to every inch of her body until she writhed on the bed unabashedly begging him for more.
Alexia closed her eyes against the spinning in her head. The memories, the feelings, came faster and faster. Her cheeks burned. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she tried to swallow. What had she done? The loneliness and longing she’d locked away inside burst free, nearly knocking the wind from her.
/> Braeden now groaned with frustrated rage before sliding his hand to the back of her head. His touch tingled hot and cold down her neck. Yet a part of her welcomed it, yearned for more.
Lowering his mouth to hers, he whispered on a near growl, “You should have stayed away.”
He was right. She should have stayed away. She’d been insane to come here.
His lips covered hers and Alexia’s heart pounded so hard she truly thought it would burst. She swallowed his warning and clutched at his shoulders for support. She knew he didn’t want her here—any more than she’d wanted to come to the Lair.
She should pull free of him and leave. It would be better for everyone. And much safer for her.
But the desperate need created by her memories wiped away any rational thought of self-preservation. Even as confusion washed through her mind, her body suffered from no such confusion.
He’d been angry at her that night, too. But while his demanding touches had surprised her and drawn cries from her lips, they hadn’t harmed her. In truth, she’d done more harm dragging her fingernails across his flesh.
Braeden flinched beneath her touch. He was sharing her memories.
Did he see how much that night meant to her? To them? Did he know how much she’d loved him then? And trusted him? She’d known full well the magic he possessed and yet she’d given him free rein to do whatever he wanted.
Her throat tightened. Regardless of the danger—physical or emotional—the need to feel his touch, to lose herself in his kiss, urged her on. Alexia leaned against him.
Braeden pulled her close. His arms wrapped around her like bands of steel.
Nearly drunk with the headiness of her first taste of power over him, Alexia teased him deeper into her memories. No matter how rough their lovemaking had been that night, the next morning he’d awakened her with gentle strokes and near-reverent kisses.
And she’d—
Braeden froze. He tore his mouth from hers and slammed the palms of his hands against the wall of the elevator on either side of her head. “Enough.”
Alexia swayed from the harshness of his exit from her thoughts. But she stared up at him, refusing to be bullied by his nasty tone of voice or the evil glitter in his eyes. “What?”
“Don’t you ever try anything like that again.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Then stay the hell out of my mind.”
Braeden lowered his arms and stared down at her. How had she learned to intentionally direct her thoughts in a manner that beckoned him to follow? When had she become so calculating?
He stepped away. While he now knew what had driven her to the Lair, not once had he sensed the presence of another. If someone had sent her the pages, or as she’d insisted they’d magically appeared and the sender had broken through her wall of protection, she’d managed to bury that information so deep he couldn’t find it.
Before she could sense his growing unease, he pressed the button to restart the elevator. “I’ll show you to your suite.”
As the elevator came to a stop, Braeden heard her sudden intake of breath and turned to see her crumple. Without a second thought, he caught her.
“Alexia?”
He frowned at her unfocused gaze and when her head lolled forward, spilling long, blond waves over her face, he lifted her into his arms. Silently cursing himself for probing her mind to the point of exhaustion, Braeden headed toward his suite and paused briefly at the door.
His original plan had been for her to stay in the suite next to his. But he wasn’t about to leave her alone until she’d had enough rest to function normally.
Since the key card to his door was in his jacket pocket, Braeden quietly ordered, “Open up.” He heard the latch click before the door silently swung open.
Alexia jerked awake, struggling in his arms. “Put me down.”
He tightened his hold and ignored her until reaching his bedroom.
She took one look at his bed, gasped, then asked, “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed.”
“We may still be married but—” Alexia pushed against his shoulder “—I am not sharing your bed.”
“You’re right.” He held her over the bed a moment and stared into her near-wild gaze before dropping her the short distance onto the mattress, then heading toward the door.
Over his shoulder he said, “I’ll be sleeping on the sofa.” He didn’t bother to mention that it was the middle of the afternoon and he wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere for quite a while.
He paused in the doorway. “There are T-shirts and sweats in the dresser—help yourself.” He hitched a thumb at the door on the far wall. “The shower is that way.”
“Braeden?”
He turned to look at her. “What?”
Alexia frowned, looked away, then shook her head. “Never mind, it was nothing.”
Her hair hung about her slumping shoulders in disarray. And her normally bright blue eyes were drained of their brilliance. She looked so damn weak that it was all he could do not to cross the room and gather her into his arms.
He quickly reminded himself that she’d brought this current fear and confusion on herself. He wasn’t about to get so wrapped up in his attraction to her that he lost sight of the simple fact that because of her, good people had died. He didn’t trust her, especially not after that little game in the elevator, and he couldn’t let himself forget that, not even for a moment.
Yet it was beneath him to torment someone who couldn’t fight back. “Alexia, that wasn’t my Phantom. Mine was delivered early this morning. Go to sleep.”
Nathan leaned against a tree and shivered from the cold damp of the mountain fog. He hated the damp. But he didn’t want to risk detection by the Dragon, so entering the Lair hadn’t been a consideration.
Instead, he’d taken the form of an inconspicuous squirrel and hidden in this tree to watch events unfold against the face of a smooth-polished scrying mirror.
Not only hadn’t the Dragon detected his presence outside the Lair or in Alexia’s mind, Drake had fallen prey to an uninitiate’s manipulation. A woman, no less.
Amazing.
But truly excellent for him.
A cold breeze ruffled his fur, making him shiver again. Why anyone would want to build a resort in this godforsaken land was beyond his understanding. Why not someplace warm and sunny? Someplace with a beach and the pounding ocean.
Although he had to admit, the rugged terrain and the forest provided excellent concealment.
In truth, the climate didn’t matter in the least. Because if all went according to plan, Braeden Drake wouldn’t be opening his resort anytime soon—at least not in this lifetime. However, at the moment things were not exactly going according to his plan.
Certain the Dragon was too engrossed with Alexia to sense him, Nathan morphed back into his normal form and dropped lightly to his feet at the base of the tree.
What was he going to do with these two?
He hadn’t thought for a moment that they’d fall into each other’s arms. In the past he’d put up too many roadblocks to keep them apart for that to happen.
But he hadn’t expected quite this level of confusion, anger and mistrust. Nathan patted the box in the pocket of his cloak. “Damn you, Aelthed, for binding such nonsense about love to the grimoire.”
When the elder wizard had set the binding into motion, Nathan had laughed, thinking it would be a simple spell to break. Now it seemed the laugh was on him. But soon he would have his way.
He was tired of waiting. This had to be the right couple. Every instinct he possessed told him that this was finally the generation that would give him what he sought. He didn’t want to wait yet another lifetime before gaining the power he deserved.
If this plan failed, if he did not gain the knowledge of the grimoire, there was only one way he could be Hierophant, the most powerful Druid alive. The Drakes and their kin would simply have to die.
He’d been denied the position of
High Druid far too long now. Unable to change the course of history, he’d spent all these centuries watching one Drake after another attain what was rightfully his.
The thought of killing gave Nathan no cause for concern. They would die just as easily as the others. With one major difference—if he killed them slowly enough, Nathan knew he could drain them of their powers, absorbing the energy, the strength, from their souls until they heaved their last breath.
The entertainment value alone almost made forgoing the translation worth it. But he’d waited too long for this chance. He would try once more before ridding the world of the last remaining Drakes.
Silently reaching up, Nathan snatched a dove from its perch and slit the bird’s belly with a fingernail. He let the body fall from his hand, then squatted to read the entrails.
A hushed sigh of relief whistled through his lips. Yes, he most definitely had the right dragon and the right mate. They needed only to rediscover the love they’d lost.
Unfortunately matchmaking wasn’t his forte. So there had to be another method to get the Dragon and his wife in bed together. Surely if they renewed their physical lust, they would soon come to recognize their love.
But how—
A smile slowly curved his lips. He stood up, then chanted a spell before stepping off the side of the mountain path into the mist-laden air.
Chapter 5
Alexia jerked awake and sprang upright on the strange bed. She stared nervously around the semi-darkened room. Her pulse beat rapidly as she tried to clear the fog of sleep. Where was she?
A quick study of the room revealed heavy, dark furniture. Extremely masculine, suited to a man. And as an all-too-familiar spicy scent rose from the bed, it came flooding back.
This wasn’t just any man’s bedroom. It was Braeden’s.
She groaned and shoved the covers aside. The cool air raced across her skin. Her…very…naked…skin. Alexia didn’t remember undressing herself. Actually, she didn’t remember anything after Braeden dropped her on the bed and left the room.
“Why that…” She swallowed her curse at the sound of someone moving around on the other side of the closed bedroom door.