by Denise Lynn
“We hired one.”
She glanced up at him. “You say that like it’s not a good thing.”
“I don’t know if it is or not. There’s something…off about the guy.”
“Then why did you hire him?”
“Cam’s in charge of hiring. He wanted the man.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. He hasn’t been wrong so far. I’m not going to second-guess him now.”
They walked out onto a flagstone patio in the center courtyard. Braeden pointed toward the line of waist-high bushes. “Through there.”
“How can it be a maze if you can see where you are?”
“I’m told the plants will grow.”
Alexia touched a half-dead shrub. “You sure about that?”
“No. Which is why Cam’s trying to find us a full-time gardener. The last one came nose to nose with a black bear and quit.”
“I see.” She sat down at a small, wrought-iron table laden with food. “I thought you said dinner. Is someone else joining us?”
After removing the domed covers from the plates, Braeden sat across from her. “No. It’s just us. I wanted a decent meal before I left.”
“Will you be gone long?” She looked forward to some time alone and wondered how much she would have.
“I’ll be back late tomorrow night, or early the next morning. Cam and Sean are moving into the suite next door to mine until I get home. The security chief starts tonight. And you know that if you need anything, all you have to do is call me back.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“So tell me, what happened to the professor who coerced you into doing the paper?”
Alexia stabbed a fork into her salad. He just wasn’t going to give up. “He died in a car accident the night I turned everything in.”
Without missing a beat, Braeden said, “He’d served his purpose.”
“You think it was intentional?” She’d never thought twice about the man’s death. “They ruled it an accident.”
“The timing was a little coincidental for an accident.”
“Perhaps.” Alexia set her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. “Braeden, do you believe me about this? I never would have done a paper on the grimoire if I hadn’t been forced.”
“Why you did the paper is the least of my concerns right now.” He nodded toward her plate. “Finish eating.”
She toyed with her food. There was something he wasn’t saying. She really didn’t want to know what, but asked, anyway. “Then what is your concern?”
“Whether or not you’re working with Nathan.”
Alexia gasped and leaned back in her chair. “Have you lost your mind? Why would I do anything that low or that dangerous?”
“Why? Where would you like me to start? You thought I blamed you for your accident. You were angry and upset that I didn’t come after you. I’d think either reason would be enough for you to consider getting even.”
Her stomach tightened. Alexia’s fork clattered onto the plate and she pushed the food away. “You know me better than that.”
“I thought so, too, at one time. But now? You’ve given me little reason to trust you.”
She slapped her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. “Have a wonderful time at Mirabilus.”
The chair jerked back toward the table. Braeden tossed his napkin on his empty plate. “If you disagree with my assessment, tell me how.”
He was all business, acting and sounding as if this topic was nothing more than another contract to be discussed. “I brought you the pages. I told you about Nathan.”
“You brought me the pages because you had nowhere else to go. You told me about Nathan under duress.” Braeden leaned back in his chair, studying her, debating. Finally he asked, “Why should I trust you, Alexia?”
To her own chagrin, she had no answer to give him. “I don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“You’re not going to argue the point?”
“No.” What was there to argue?
“And you’ve nothing to offer in defense of yourself?”
“No.” Now she was on trial?
He stared at her, holding her gaze in a searing jewel-toned trap. And Alexia wondered if the pain and doubt she saw in his eyes were reflected in her own. Why were they doing this to each other? To themselves?
She stretched an arm across the table. With her palm up, she asked, “Truce? Can we just declare a truce until the manual is translated?”
He clasped her hand, turning it to entwine their fingers. Braeden lifted her hand and directed his gaze briefly to the amethyst-and-diamond wedding set she still wore. “What then, Alexia?”
“Then?” She paused, determined not to give life to the emotions tearing her apart. “I’ll leave.”
“Is that what you want?” He released her hand.
No, that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted things to be the way they used to be. She wanted to go back to the beginning and start all over.
But life wasn’t like that, not even life with a wizard. There were some things even he couldn’t give her. “I thought that’s what you wanted.” She tossed the decision back to him.
“I did say that, didn’t I?” Something unfamiliar flitted behind his eyes and rang odd in his voice. Alexia couldn’t put her finger on the emotion.
Braeden shifted on his chair. “I should get going.”
She delayed him, hoping to figure out what he was hiding behind that expressive gaze. “Was anyone hurt in this break-in?”
He blew out a low breath. “A little girl is missing.”
The food she’d eaten rushed toward her throat. “Oh, my God, Braeden, I am so sorry. Anyone else?”
Her guilt rang loud and clear in her strained voice. And while some of the guilt did rest on her shoulders, Braeden realized she wasn’t entirely to blame.
After seeing the magic contained in the Dragonierre’s Manual, he wondered if his suspicions about her might be misplaced. “Yes. A groundskeeper was also injured.”
“I don’t know how to undo what I’ve done. I—”
“Alexia, don’t.” He reached out and placed a finger over her lips. “There are some things about the past that we can’t change. Your paper can’t be undone, no matter how much you wish it. All you can do now is translate the manual and see if there’s anything in there that could help us.”
She looked down at her plate. “I doubt it.” Her words were little more than a sigh. “So far it’s still more like a diary than a grimoire.”
“Maybe that’s all it is.”
“Will I be able to get through that bubble you put over it?”
“Of course.” Braeden rose to leave, adding, “Cam will undo the spell once you get back to the suite.”
“Good.” Alexia picked up her glass of water, took a drink, then set it down, saying almost to herself, “Iced tea would be nice.”
He stared at the glass she’d set on the table. The clear liquid turned a golden brown. Tea? Braeden focused his senses on the perimeter of the maze, seeking the power behind that transformation.
To his amazement the only power present came from Alexia. Impossible. There was no way she could have possessed any ability all this time without his knowing it. Yet he still sensed no one else around and no other powers at work.
There was another possibility—the Dragon’s curse. Was Alexia draining his powers? Wouldn’t he know if that was happening?
Instead of drawing her attention to the glass, he sat back down and asked, “What kind of tea? I’ll have the kitchen bring some in.”
“White tea, with raspberry.”
The tea in her glass lightened. Raspberries floated between the ice.
She took another sip and paused to smile at him. “Thank you. Shouldn’t you be leaving?”
Was it possible she didn’t realize what she’d done? “No problem. Anything else you’d like before I go?”
Alexia shrugged. “A slice o
f chocolate cake might be nice.”
Braeden waited a second to make certain one didn’t materialize before signaling for the waiter lounging just beyond the dining area. “A slice of chocolate cake for Mrs. Drake.”
While they waited, Braeden wondered if the prophecy was true. He’d always thought it was nothing more than another of his aunt’s stories.
The waiter brought the cake and asked, “Anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
When the man left, Braeden said, “Now, I really have to be going.”
Alexia slid her chair back. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Car?” He frowned.
“To get to the airport?”
“I’m not taking the jet. I’ll…”
“Just zip on over?”
“Something like that, yes.” He paused and looked down at her. “Alexia, if you need me, at any time, call me. Just close your eyes and concentrate. I’ll be here.”
Chapter 11
The light streaming in the window dragged Alexia from her slumber. She squinted and held up a hand to shield her eyes, wishing she’d remembered to close the draperies before going to bed.
Unable to get back to sleep, she rose, showered and dressed, tugging on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
In the kitchen, she pulled out the toaster and popped a couple of slices of bread into the slots. She made coffee and pulled butter and jam from the fridge.
While the bread was toasting, she wandered into the office to look at the pages waiting for her. She wasn’t surprised to see the detail they contained. The changes were incredible.
She heard the toaster pop and returned to the kitchen. After spreading the slices with some butter and jam, she took them with her cup of coffee into the living room and stood in front of the sliding doors that led onto the balcony.
With the sun shining down on them, the mountains were breathtaking. Brilliant splotches of color scattered here and there made the view worthy of an artist’s oil painting.
The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Alexia held her breath. Someone was watching her. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, and in the icy chill skittering goose bumps up her arms.
“Who’s there? Show yourself.” Her whisper echoed in the room.
She looked around and saw no one, yet the feeling remained. When she turned back around, she caught a brief glimpse of a shadowy form retreating from the balcony.
Alexia blinked, but when she opened her eyes she saw nothing. Slowly bringing her face closer to the glass, she stared hard but still saw nothing.
Had she been anywhere but Dragon’s Lair, she’d have brushed it off to a trick of the light. But she wasn’t anywhere else, so the fear and uncertainty remained.
Alexia jumped at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Laughing at her nervousness, she opened the door. Her smile froze on her face. “Danielle, come in.”
What she really wanted to do was slam the door in the woman’s face.
“Please, sit down.” Heading for the kitchen, she asked, “Do you want some coffee?”
“No. What I want is you gone.”
Alexia sighed while she poured Braeden’s aunt a cup of coffee. Whether the woman wanted it or not, she could at least sit here and pretend to drink it while she explained.
And she was going to finally explain.
Alexia walked back into the living room and handed Danielle the cup, suggesting, “Just pretend.”
Danielle set the cup on the end table. Alexia couldn’t help but notice the woman was dressed to kill, so to speak. Full makeup, hair slicked back into a severe bun. She wore a loud, black-and-red paisley printed suit, matching red blouse—so the blood wouldn’t show as much, perhaps?
Alexia swallowed her sarcastic thought, then asked, “So, why the visit, Danielle?” The woman’s timing was so obviously planned. She’d never have stopped by if Braeden were here.
The woman frowned, tipping her head and looking at Alexia as if something were dreadfully wrong. Finally she shook off whatever was bothering her and asked, “Do you care for my nephew so little that you are willing to risk his life?”
“He doesn’t seem to be too concerned about my coming here.”
“I’m not talking about the damn manual or the danger you brought with you.”
“Then what?” Alexia groaned before answering her own question. “The curse.”
“Of course.”
“Give it a rest, Danielle.”
The older woman’s face reddened. “You really don’t care.” She nearly shook with anger. “Are you plotting his death?”
Concerned, Alexia stared at Braeden’s aunt. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Why else would you intentionally tempt the Fates?”
“Oh, yes, the Fates.” Alexia sipped her coffee, hoping the caffeine would give her enough energy to hold this insane conversation. “I don’t have any powers. None. And if I suddenly started draining Braeden of his, don’t you think he’d notice?”
“He’s too bewitched to notice.”
“Bewitched?” Alexia shook her head. The whole idea of Braeden being that distracted because of her was ludicrous. “When it comes to me, the only thing Braeden is bewitched by is the translation of the manual and getting me out of here.”
Danielle’s lip curled into a near snarl. “Can you blame him?”
It was all Alexia could do not to slam her coffee on the table. Instead, she wrapped her fingers more tightly around the cup. “If he was so damn anxious to rid himself of me, why didn’t he just file for a divorce? Then none of this would matter.”
“A divorce?” Danielle gasped as if Alexia had suggested Braeden shoot himself. “He can’t divorce you.”
If the woman was going to throw the ruler-of-Mirabilus, High-Druid-wizard stuff out as an excuse, Alexia swore she’d scream. Obviously eager for self-torture she asked, “And why is that?”
“Dragons mate for life.”
Alexia watched the coffee cup fall from her hand to the carpet as if in slow motion. It was odd, really. One heartbeat, her fingers were wrapped around the thing. The next, the cup simply sailed to the floor and bounced twice, then rolled in a semicircle before stopping. She hadn’t even felt her hand relax.
She stared at the spreading coffee stain, wondering how she’d get it out of the off-white carpet. Without responding to Danielle’s inconceivable statement, Alexia rose, went to the kitchen, then came back with towels and a pitcher of cold water.
While she knelt on the floor trying to sop up the coffee, Danielle asked, “You didn’t know that?”
It wasn’t so much that she didn’t know it, it was more along the lines of being so far-fetched she was having a hard time believing anyone would say something so outrageous. “This is the twenty-first century. If for some reason he can’t file for a divorce, I can.”
Danielle picked up the used towels and carried them out to the kitchen, saying, “A civil divorce won’t make any difference. It goes beyond legalities.” She came back with a couple of dry towels.
Alexia shook her head. “Look, this is between Braeden and me. It really isn’t any of your business.”
“So you say. But what happens to this family once the manual is translated and you’ve taken all his powers? He’ll be defenseless against any evil you release.”
“Just pretend for a moment that I buy into that whole draining-of-powers concept. What would stop me from defending him?”
“Do not take this lightly.”
“Oh, I’m not.” Well, that wasn’t quite true, but it seemed easier to humor Danielle than to argue with her. “I’m just curious. If all this is true, why didn’t you mention this before Braeden and I were married? That might have been a more opportune time.”
“Nobody knew you were going to hook him so quickly.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to know you think your nephew is that weak-willed.” Alexia rose and tossed the remaining towels onto the bar. “You knew fr
om day one that I was mortal. If the curse about the eldest dragon marrying a mortal could prove so destructive, why didn’t you talk him out of seeing me then?”
Danielle glared at her. “I tried.”
For some reason she couldn’t explain, the knowledge that Danielle had absolutely no control over Braeden made Alexia breathe easier. “So that’s why you’ve hated me from day one—because Braeden chose me over your objections?”
“Even without the threat of the curse, it was all too fast. You don’t meet someone and marry them less than a month later.”
“I guess in our case that wasn’t true.” Actually, her sister had voiced the same worries at the time. “So, you intentionally tried to drive me away?”
“Yes. It was the only way to show Braeden how unworthy you were and how little you truly cared for him.”
“Cared for him? Danielle, I fell in love with him the moment I saw him from across the room. I was carrying his child—our child—and you sent a magical beast to run me off the road?”
“That wasn’t me. I didn’t even know you were out in the car that night—” Danielle froze and stared at her. “A what ran you off the road?”
Alexia waved the question away. She’d already said too much. “Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. But you won’t get the chance again.”
Danielle’s eyes were wide. “You don’t understand. I can’t conjure up anything. I can only communicate intuitively by sending and receiving thoughts. That’s all the natural ability I possess. And no potion, no spell, is going to permit me to conjure up a beast.”
Great. Alexia had never once thought Braeden was responsible. But she had suspected his aunt. If it wasn’t Danielle, could it have been Nathan?
Had he been around even then? She remembered the overwhelming fear at seeing the dragon in her rearview mirror. It was the same type of fear she felt whenever Nathan invaded her mind—a cold, sickening dread she was unable to control. Why had he been following her back then?
“You must leave here.” Danielle stood up and came over to stand before her. “I was right, you are dangerous. Braeden will die if you stay.”
From the forcefulness of her words, there was little doubt in Alexia’s mind that Danielle Drake actually believed that. However, Alexia didn’t.