“Is this better?”
“Much, thank you.” At least he’d had the decency to leave her own clothing alone. She did so prefer her modern wardrobe of sophisticated, flowing tunics and pants, chic little designer suits and abundant sequins to just about anything that could be had in this horrible time period.
“I’ve always rather liked my robes. They suit me. They say wizard.”
“They say ridiculous.”
“Besides, that’s what people expect of me.”
“Not anymore. The world and its people have progressed far beyond needing magicians that live in caves surrounded by the bits and pieces of spells and magic and enchantment.”
Merlin sighed. “Pity.”
Viviane bit back a sharp response. She should know better than to go head to head with the man. It had never worked before and was obviously not about to work now. Mentally, she counted to ten and struggled to adopt a more conciliatory attitude.
“Merlin, my love, I simply do not understand why you have thrust us, and that woman, back to Arthur’s court.”
“I told you, Viviane. I am fed up with the modern world believing that we, that all of this, never existed.”
“Merlin,” she said gently and clasped his hands in hers, “I thought that was the whole idea. I thought you wished to preserve forever the very special qualities of Arthur’s reign and not have them sullied by the scrutiny of history.”
“Well, yes, I did. Originally.”
“And you have succeeded with spectacular results. My dear, you are a legend.”
“Yes, I know.”
The man certainly had the ego of a legend. Viviane groaned to herself. “A rather impressive legend.”
“Well,” he appeared a bit mollified, “perhaps.”
“Why, the stories of you and Arthur and Camelot and all of it have withstood the tests of time and continue, century after century, to be the stuff children’s dreams and adult fantasies are made of.”
Merlin chuckled. “Well, I suppose, when you put it that way.”
“There is no other way to put it,” she said as if there was never any doubt. “The entire world knows Arthur as more than a mere man. You have made him and his kingdom all that a king and a land should be and much, much more.”
Merlin nodded modestly.
“And as for you, my love, you are Merlin, Wizard Extraordinaire and Counselor to Kings.” She widened her eyes in feigned admiration. “There is no greater figure in all of history or literature that compares to you.”
He shrugged in a humble manner that still acknowledged the accuracy of her words. “It’s true.”
“Why muck it all up for the sake of proving a point to one woman?” She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. “Merlin,” she purred, “forget this nonsense and take me home. Now.”
For a moment the familiar light of desire sparkled in his eye. Her stomach tightened. Even after all these eons the man could still do that to her. And thank the fates she still did it to him as well. The enchantment that bound them together had little to do with a wizard’s magic and everything to do with a man’s.
“You are astounding, Viviane. I want you as much now as I did in the beginning.” He whispered against her lips. “But we’re staying.”
“Merlin!” She dropped his hands and stepped back. “I don’t want to stay. I want to go back to modern times where I—where we—belong. I want air-conditioning and ice cream and zippers. I want the yacht and the condo and baccarat in Monte Carlo—”
“Hah! I knew it.” He aimed a long finger at her. “You just want to get back to the casinos.”
“Of course I want to get back to the casinos as well as the South of France. It’s my favorite time of year. It’s at once festive and peaceful and devoid of the hoards of ill-dressed tourists that invade in the summer. And I resent having to miss it.” She studied her perfectly manicured fingernails. “Besides, I always win handily at this time of year.”
“I daresay, you use magic to win.”
“I don’t need to use magic. I don’t need to cheat,” she said smugly. “I have a knack for gambling. For knowing when to play and when to cash in my winnings. I’m very good.”
“Regardless.” His voice rang with a no-nonsense tone and defeat washed through her. She was doomed. No Monte Carlo. No baccarat. No roulette. Not even a lousy game of blackjack. “We are here and here we shall stay. If I recall, you did like it here once.”
“Once, I didn’t know any better and furthermore there was no other choice.” She sighed in frustration. “I thought you’d gotten this I am not a myth business out of your system a century ago when you brought that charming Samuel person to Camelot.”
“Charming, perhaps, but he was something of a disappointment. Ultimately, he simply perpetuated the legend,” Merlin sighed, “and he was inaccurate as well.”
“If your desire is to change the thinking of the world, you will not accomplish it with this woman. She doesn’t have the status or notoriety he did. Face it, dearest, she is nothing but a lowly quasi-professor.”
“This time my purpose is not to change the attitude of all men,” he said somberly.
Viviane narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I have brought her here for Galahad.”
“For Galahad? What? Like a pet?”
“No. A partner.”
“What on earth do you mean? Why would Galahad need a partner?”
“Galahad’s driving ambition in his later years was to find the Holy Grail—”
She snorted with disdain. “Now there’s a myth for you.”
“Not at all. The Grail is and always has been different things to different men. ’Tis decreed for all time: he whosoever shall seek the Grail and believe shall surely find it…” Merlin stared at a distant spot as if his words had transported him to a place she couldn’t follow. It drove her crazy when he did that.
“Merlin?”
“Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, Galahad, of course, failed. All that Arthur had built crumbled and his knights dispersed to far corners of the land. I cloaked it all in magic. And the legend began.” Merlin fell silent and a tiny twinge of pity stabbed her.
Poor love. Arthur and Camelot really was the high point of his career. Still, that myth of his didn’t cast her in a particularly good light.
“I was always fond of Galahad.”
“He was a nice boy, dear.”
“I always regretted I did not help him more on his quest.”
“It wasn’t your fate. It was his.”
“That’s why, when I concocted the legend, I allowed him to be one of the few knights to find the Grail.”
“It was a sweet thing for you to do.”
“Galahad died an old, lonely, bitter man.”
“Your magic may have created a myth but Galahad was destined to live in real life,” she said slowly. “There was nothing you could do about that.”
“I’m going to do something now.” Merlin drew himself up straight and stared down his nose at her. For an instant she was thrown back to the moment she had first encountered the proud, powerful wizard who would become her teacher and her love. “I’m going to change his destiny.”
She stared for a long, shocked minute. “You can’t be serious?”
“I am very serious.”
“But why?”
“I like Galahad. I’ve always liked Galahad.”
She stamped her foot. “And I liked Marie Antoinette—”
“Amazing creature,” he murmured. “Threw the most wonderful parties.”
“—but I could not change her fate!”
He smirked. “Your magic is not as great as mine.”
“Thank you for pointing that out,” she said sharply. “It breaks all the Rules, Merlin. Your Rules, I might add. About changing destiny and altering fate.”
“Yes indeed, they are my Rules. I made them and I can break them. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve even wanted to
break any Rules. I daresay I’m quite looking forward to it.”
“Well, I’m not at all sure I buy any of this. You’ve always been a stickler for the Rules. You taught them to me.” Viviane turned and paced the room, trying to make sense of his comments. There was something here she couldn’t quite grasp. “Regardless of your words, this desire of yours to come back here again is absurd. I know you liked the boy. And heaven knows you love this revolting era—”
He stepped up behind her. “How can you not love it? Why, this is a time of chivalry and honor. When knights rallied to do the bidding of their king and their God. When a man backed his word with his life and women were revered as fair flowers of femininity—”
“I will admit,” she said grudgingly, “that part was rather pleasant.”
“And the magic, my dear, remember the magic?” He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head back against his chest.
“Well, yes…”
“It’s what brought you to me.” His words spun a spell of memory as potent as any enchantment. “People believed in magic then. It was part of the fabric of life itself.”
“Indeed.” How could she have forgotten?
“Remember, my love, when the world was young?” His lips nuzzled against her neck and shivers of delight coursed through her. “There are few challenges and little excitement in the modern world you so resent leaving. Why, it’s gotten so bad any idiot with a credit card can fly. Once,” he nibbled at her ear and her stomach fluttered, “flying was reserved for those of us who studied and practiced the ancient arts. Your world is really quite dull, my dear.”
“Dull.” She sighed.
“Tiresome.” He edged her tunic off her shoulder and replaced it with his lips.
What was he saying? Something important, something she should pay attention to, tugged at the back of her mind, distant and obscured in a haze of delightful arousal. Viviane drifted deeper into a familiar, sensual world where all she knew was the touch of his hand and the heat of his lips.
“Boring.” His hand caressed her breast through the fabric of her clothes.
“Boring…” She could scarcely breathe. She turned her head, her lips met his. Boring. She stopped. Boring?
At once the niggling thought at the fringe of her consciousness broke free and surfaced like an air bubble escaping the depths of the seas. She gasped and pulled away. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“Don’t give me that look, Merlin. You are the only being in all of creation itself who can manage to look innocent and guilty at the same time. You know precisely what I mean.” Viviane stepped away and glared. “How could I have been such a fool? I nearly fell for it.”
“Fell for it?” Merlin’s eyes widened, trying to appear as if he had no idea what she meant. And failing.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Annoyance rang in her voice. “All that nonsense about how you were tired of history thinking you nothing more than a myth. And that business about giving Galahad a second chance. Shame on you.”
“I still don’t know…”
“Give it up, dearest. I see it all now. I suspected as much the last time you pulled this time travel stunt. Only then I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Willing to accept that my poor, dear Merlin’s pride was wounded because the world thinks he never existed. Why I had even nearly forgiven you for casting me in your legend as the wicked witch who imprisons the noble sorcerer.”
He clasped a hand to his chest. “You have imprisoned my heart.”
“Don’t try to weasel out of this. At long last the curtain has lifted. This little jaunt of yours back to the Middle Ages has nothing to do with history or legends or quests.”
“It doesn’t,” he said cautiously.
“You know full well it doesn’t.” She drew herself up and glared. “You, my darling, are bored!”
“Bored?”
“Bored! You said it yourself. Modern life is simply too convenient for you. Too easy. There are none of the difficulties of this primitive time. There’s no need for magic and, therefore, little need for you. You receive none of the accolade you enjoyed here as a wizard—”
“A Wizard Extraordinaire,” he said pointedly.
“And Counselor to Kings. Yada, yada, yada—I know. Everyone knows. Now that I think about it, that’s precisely the reason you did this before. You miss the limelight. Being a relatively ordinary man in an era in which survival is no longer in question is far too tame for you. What was it that set you off the last time anyway?”
He looked like a sulking child. “Electric lights.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now.” She smacked her hand against her forehead. “The signs were all there—”
“Steam engines. The preponderance of those blasted telephones—”
“Upon further reflection I noticed a certain restlessness as far back as the industrial revolution.”
“—photography, dynamite.” He shuddered. “Psychiatry—”
“Enough!” She shook her head. “The nineteenth century was a time of great advances for mankind. I should think you’d be happy for mortals.”
He plucked an invisible bit of lint off his sweater. “It wasn’t much fun for me.”
“Fun? I thought it was great fun then and even better with the progress of another hundred years. And I, for one, love it.” She narrowed her eyes. “So what triggered you this time? Microwave ovens? Cellular phones? The Internet?”
He crossed his arms over his chest in a petulant manner. “Computer animation.”
“What?”
“Computer animation.”
“Are you telling me we’ve traveled back centuries because moviemakers can create realistic dinosaurs?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
“That’s nonsense and I have had quite enough.” She clenched her teeth. “We’re going home. Now!”
“No, we’re not.” He set his lips in a firm line that brooked no argument. By the stars above, if only she did have the power to imprison him or at least defeat him at his own game, the man would be a toad right now.
“There is nothing in your modern world that can compare to the excitement and adventure of a great quest undertaken for the glory of God and country. Galahad is going on his quest. Tessa is going with him and you and I shall be rapt spectators right here.”
She stared for a long moment. “Why did you pick this woman?”
“Galahad needs help to find the Grail.”
“So give him Arnold Schwarzenegger, not a short, blonde schoolteacher.”
“He’s busy,” Merlin muttered. “Besides, Tessa doesn’t believe in me.”
She raised a brow. “And you think Arnold does?”
He ignored her. “Tessa doesn’t believe in Galahad or Arthur or any of this.”
“Pick any ten twenty-first-century residents and nine and a half of them don’t believe.”
“There is nothing more powerful in the universe than the faith of the converted.”
“There is nothing more annoying in all of creation than a man who dances around a question.” She glared. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He sighed in resignation. “There’s magic in her.”
“Magic?” Viviane widened her eyes. “She’s one of us?”
“Not quite. But there is a touch of fairy in her lineage. On her mother’s side. Lovely woman. Recognized the value of my book,” he said under his breath.
“Even so, they can’t possibly succeed.”
“She has what he needs to find the Grail.” There was that matter-of-fact confidence again, a most annoying characteristic. “Neither of them realize it at this juncture but they will fit together like halves of a whole—”
“More like oil and water.” Still, opposites did tend to attract.
“We shall see.” A self-satisfied smile quirked the corners of his lips. “I don’t suppose you’d care to lay a small wager on it?”
> “What kind of wager?”
“I don’t know.” He paused to consider the possibilities. “If I win…we return to this time period as often as I wish for as long as I wish, even permanently if I so desire, and,” his smile changed to a definite smirk, “and you can’t utter one single word of protest. And if you win—”
“If I win”—the excitement of a lucky spin of the wheel rose within her—“we say good-bye to the Middle Ages forever. We lay the past to rest. And,” her eyes narrowed, “you never use the phrase Wizard Extraordinaire and Counselor to Kings again.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “You promise not to cheat?”
She crossed her fingers behind her back. “I told you. I don’t need to cheat. I’m good.”
“It’s agreed then?”
“Agreed.” She nodded.
Poor Merlin. Cheating was in many ways in the eyes of the beholder. There was no way Viviane would lose this bet, because there was no way Viviane was coming back here again. Not until time itself ceased to exist. And even then under protest.
This may have been Merlin’s heyday but she had been a mere inexperienced novice sorcerer, a star-struck girl head over heels in love and not substantially more than his consort. No, she would not go through all that again.
It was a shame that Galahad and Tessa would end up as pawns in this magic gambit but it simply could not be helped. Hopefully, they would survive. It wasn’t her problem. Not really. Viviane had never been particularly callous where the lives of mortals were concerned but this was different. This was now a wager.
And at this moment, she’d bet anything she’d beat the summer tourists back to Monte Carlo.
Chapter Six
“Awaken, fair Tessa.”
Tessa rolled away from the voice intruding on the odd dream lingering in her head and snuggled deeper beneath her covers. “Go away.”
“’Tis time to face the new day.”
The voice was strong, insistent and way too loud. She ignored it, hugging her pillow tight against her.
“Lady Tessa?”
The voice was a shade more impatient now. And familiar. She’d heard it before but where? Of course. Her dreams. Strange bizarre fantasies staring Fred Astaire dressed in a blue bathrobe and a gorgeous, dark-haired hunk the size of a small oak and a castle built of stone and magic and—
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