Dragon's Lair (18 page)

Even though her body responded to his mental touch, her heart and mind rebelled against this intrusion. Tears burned behind her closed lids. She felt…used. Alexia opened her eyes and stared at him. “Yes. Yes, I was. Braeden, please, stop.”

“Damn it, Alexia.” He crossed the room and pulled her roughly into his arms.

His heart pounded riotously against hers. He buried his face in her neck. “We need to get you some training real quick.”

“For what? I don't understand.”

He lifted his head and stared down at her. “I was in the middle of a meeting with the new kitchen staff when I felt someone making love to me. I knew from the touch it was you.”

“Impossible.” She shook her head. “I don't have any powers.”

“No, not impossible. Trust me, I know what I felt. It seems you've been gifted with powers.”

“No.” She pushed away. “I don't want them.”

Braeden nearly snorted. “You think you have a choice?”

“Yes. Take them away.”

“I didn't give them to you, so I can't take them away.”

She thought he could do almost anything. “Then find out where they came from.”

He turned to glance at the table. “The book.”

Now that, she knew for a fact, was impossible. “It's just a boring diary.”

“Obviously you're wrong.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember our dinner in the maze?”

“Yes.”

“And the water turning to iced tea?”

“Of course I do.” She'd wanted raspberry tea and it had appeared on the table. “I thanked you for it, too.”

“I didn't do it.”

“You had to have done it.”

“No.”

She didn't believe him, but asked, “Even if that's true, how do I go from changing water to tea to…” Alexia paused. What was it called?

“Projecting?”

“Sure, projecting.”

“It would take a strong spell for that to happen.” Braeden spoke softly, as if he was talking to himself.

“There you go, then. That manual is nothing more than an old man's ramblings.” She didn't want any powers. While she loved Braeden, she had no desire to be like him. There were days when it was all she could do to handle being normal. She didn't need or want to add anything to her plate.

He rose and retrieved an empty glass from the table. “Want something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be nice.”

Ice cubes and water filled the empty glass.

He shrugged. “It wasn't me.” Then he upended the glass over the bed.

Alexia jumped, shouting, “No! Don't get the bed wet!”

The water and ice hung suspended in midair. Not one drop touched the bed.

With her mouth open, speechless, she blinked.

Braeden tipped his head to the side. “Personally, I couldn't care less if the bed gets wet. There are other beds. So this is because of your wishes, not mine.”

A sinking feeling filled her. What was she going to do now?

Braeden handed her the glass and asked, “Want to put the water back into the glass?”

“How?”

“Try thinking it. Visualize the water and ice in the glass.”

She did as he suggested. To her chagrin it worked.

Braeden laughed as he took the glass from her and set it on the night table. “It isn't a curse, Alexia.”

“Easy for you to say. It sure feels like one.”

With nothing but a glance, his hand stroked her belly, then slid around to caress her hip. “You sure about that?”

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. He was teasing her.

“Come on, Alexia, you can do it.”

She shook her head.

“I dare you to try.” He leaned against the far wall.

Heat fired her cheeks. But the glint of passion in his eyes and the challenge in his voice were more than she could ignore.

She leaned back into the pillows propped against the headboard. Closing her eyes she envisioned making love to him.

She trailed her fingers over his face, as if touching him for the first time. Stubble covered his cheeks, the hard line of his jaw and chin.

His lips were full and smooth beneath her touch. She jumped when he swirled his tongue around her finger before closing his lips over it and drawing it into his mouth.

Alexia marveled at the sensation of dampness on her finger, as if he'd physically sucked on her finger. His laugh brushed hot against her cheek.

“The mind is powerful.” He stroked a hand beneath her shirt, drawing circles on her belly. “It can be a tool.” He snapped open her bra, then caressed one breast, thumb teasing the nipple before moving to the other one. “Or a weapon. It's up to you to choose.”

Alexia loosened his tie, pulled it free, then dropped it on the floor. The buttonholes of his crisp new shirt were stiff, and in frustration she visualized his shirt already open. To her satisfaction she instantly found skin beneath her hands.

Braeden shook his head. His lips beneath her ear, he whispered, “That's cheating.”

Her lips against his flat nipple, she only moaned in response.

The moan stuck in her throat as he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans, flicked the snap open and slid down the zipper. To her amazement, it felt as if her jeans were being pushed down over her hips and legs. Cool air brushed her flesh, intensifying her amazement.

She unbuckled his belt, fumbled with the hook closure of his waistband before sliding the zipper down and letting his pants fall.

Alexia tugged his silk boxers down over his hips. She kneaded the tight muscles of his ass, laughing when he clenched them beneath her hands.

His chuckle turned to a ragged groan when she caressed the hot, hard length of his erection.

His hand slid between her legs, touching, teasing, caressing, until she breathlessly rested her forehead against his chest. Alexia gasped when his touch slid inside to stroke the already burning fire hotter.

Suddenly this…projecting wasn't enough. She grazed his chest with her teeth, silently crying, “Braeden, please.”

The cool air of the chamber raced against her body as her clothing disappeared. Strong hands clasped her ankles and pulled her down onto the bed. No longer in control, Alexia sighed with anticipation.

Braeden covered her body with his own, came into her and caught her cry with his lips.

She clung to him, shifting to curl her legs around his hips. He was obviously as turned on as she, because there was nothing slow or gentle about his thrusts. They were fast, hard and deep, bringing her quickly to release.

Alexia cried out and Braeden groaned above her, shuddering with his own release.

Once her heart slowed to a more normal beat, she stroked his damp hair from his face and asked, “Wasn't that cheating?”

Braeden rose up on his elbows, kissed the end of her nose. “Complaining?”

She stretched languidly beneath him, tracing his leg with her foot. “Never.”

B
raeden rolled off her with a sigh and rose. “I hate to do this, but I need to get up.”

He stretched a hand out to her clothes on the floor.

“No.” Alexia stopped him. “I don't need your help, I can do it myself. Just get dressed.”

She couldn't decipher the look he shot her, but since he said nothing, she let it go.

He retrieved his clothes from the floor on his way to the bathroom, while she got up from the bed and pulled on a robe.

Braeden came out of the bathroom and picked up his suit jacket from the floor. Shrugging into it, he said, “I need to get back to Mirabilus for another meeting. Do me a favor, though.”

“What?”

“Don't think about me.”

She knew what he was saying. He didn't want a repeat performance of earlier. “Will you be gone long?”

“I'll be back later tonight.” Braeden hesitated, then added, “Don't wait up.”

He was gone before she could respond.

Alexia blew out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and headed for the shower. It didn't take much to figure out Braeden was ticked off.

She never would have intentionally teased him that way, especially when he was in a meeting. He couldn't seriously think she'd done it on purpose.

And he couldn't be upset because she suddenly had these magical powers. It wasn't as if she'd asked for them. In fact, he'd been the one who suggested using them.

Could they have come from the book?

Quickly finishing her shower and dressing, she sat down in front of the table and flipped the computer on, then pulled the last page she'd translated closer.

Once again more words crowded the page. She was getting used to that happening. She stared harder at the new sections, sighing in frustration. Wonderful, now Aelthed was imparting a recipe. Not for a spell, but for a tart.

Two things were at the forefront of her mind. One—medieval cooks didn't usually put measurements into their recipes. Two—even if they had, why would anyone put a cup of salt into a fruit tart?

Alexia rechecked her translation. Now it called for two cups. It made no sense whatsoever.

She pulled the next page closer. More recipes filled the space. The first one was for cassia soup. She shuddered at the thought of a cinnamon soup made with chicken. It called for a pound each of finely ground cinnamon, clove and ginger.

Frowning, she wondered at the measurements. She wasn't a chef by any means, but it didn't take a lot of
thinking to realize that a pound of any finely ground spice would be far too much.

She pushed the page away and leaned back in her chair. While finding recipes in the book was new, this wasn't the first time Aelthed had mentioned spices or cooking.

Alexia's heart did a quick tap. She shoved away from the table, raced out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She came to a groaning stop. It was possible that in Aelthed's time the kitchen wasn't even attached to the main living quarters.

She picked up the phone and dialed the caretaker's cottage. “Mr. Brightworthe? Hello, this is Alexia and I was wondering if you knew where the castle's original kitchen was located?”

“Yes, ma'am. It was destroyed in a fire years ago. The only section of it that still exists is what we use as the storage shed.”

She looked out the side window. “The one attached to the pantry?”

“That'd be it.”

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You aren't thinking of going in there, are you?”

“I'd planned to, why?”

“It's isn't safe.”

Then it fit in perfectly with her life of late. “Could you expand on that a little? Do you mean structurally?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll be right over.”

She didn't get the chance to tell him not to bother. He'd hung up and she saw him stomp across the yard toward the castle.

He opened the side door. “I'll go with you.”

Anxious to discover what she could, Alexis didn't argue. She followed him to the storage shed.

At first glance the wooden structure looked sound, but when Mr. Brightworthe opened the door, she realized what concerned him. On closer inspection the building had been maintained on an irregular basis. The entire thing appeared to be in dire need of demolition. It wasn't just the peeling paint. The rotted and uneven boards couldn't possibly last much longer.

He stood aside, then handed her a flashlight. “Watch your step. I won't be having Mr. Drake breathing fire at me because you got hurt.”

Alexia opened the creaking door slowly and stepped through the wood-framed doorway onto the hard-packed dirt floor. Yard tools—rakes, shovels, hoes—lined the walls on both sides. The shelves on the far wall held cans and jars, some with nails or screws, others with garden chemicals.

Gingerly walking further into the shed, she directed the flashlight at the walls. The two sides were nothing more than what they appeared—old, crumbling, wooden walls. The back wall was stone.

“What's behind that wall?”

The caretaker scratched his head. “The pantry.”

She moved closer. Reaching past a stack of paint cans, she poked at the wall. “How thick do you think this is?”

“What are you looking for, Mrs. Drake?”

“A secret room.”

Mr. Brightworthe snorted and stepped outside. He returned in a few minutes. “From best guess, I'd say that wall is a good six feet thick. If there's a room back there, it's mighty small.”

Alexia touched one ancient fieldstone, then another. None of them moved, but she hadn't expected them to. She
grabbed a paint can and set it behind her. “Help me clear these shelves.”

Once the shelves were emptied, she took a small garden trowel and poked between the stones. After what seemed hours, one stone finally gave way beneath her poking. She stuck a finger into the hole and felt air. While there might be six feet between here and the main building, this wasn't a solid six-foot-thick wall.

“Here, ma'am, let me.” The caretaker managed to remove a few more of the stones, giving them a large-enough hole to shine the flashlight into. He whistled before muttering, “Well, I'll be.”

“What?” Alexia reached for the flashlight. “Let me see.”

Heart racing, she looked inside. Against the far wall a long narrow table held an assortment of old jars covered by cobwebs and a thick layer of dust.

Between the two of them, they were able to remove enough of the stones to permit them entry. “Just a minute, Mrs. Drake.” The caretaker grabbed the shovel and pulled a second flashlight from his jacket pocket before entering the room first.

The beam from Alexia's flashlight shook as her hands trembled. She directed the light over the jars on the table, trying not to shiver at the sudden brush of an icy breeze across the back of her neck.

She'd been safe at Mirabilus so far. There was no reason to think otherwise. The trepidation she felt now was from the excitement of their find.

The room they'd discovered was just a hallway of sorts that slanted down to open out into a larger circular room. She stood in the center of the room and slowly spun. “Where are we?”

Mr. Brightworthe shook his head. “I'm not certain. I've never seen anything like this before.”

Rough-hewn wood bookcases were still intact. They housed jars, small pots, and an odd assortment of items unidentifiable beneath the dust.

Off to one side of the room on the floor was a circle of stones. Atop the circle rested a large metal cauldron. Near the other side of the room was a table with a rickety-looking chair before it.

Alexia circled the room and studied the items on the table. Gemstones and bits of metal were scattered here and there as if someone had been in the process of making a piece of jewelry or a charm.

She fingered the one around her neck and took comfort from the protection it offered.

Mr. Brightworthe shone his flashlight across the table. Beneath the dust something sparkled. Drawn to the object, Alexia reached out and brushed the layers of grime away with a fingertip.

Beneath her touch the sparkle grew to a shimmering glow of emerald.

Mr. Brightworthe backed away. “Ma'am?”

Hearing the uncertainty in his voice, she paused and studied the object. Nothing real or imagined warned her of danger. “It's all right.”

But when she turned around, it was obvious that her words held little meaning to the man. He visibly shook. The last thing she wanted was for Mirabilus's older caretaker to have a stroke.

With a sigh, she scooped up the object, dropped it in her pocket, then headed toward the door. She'd come back here with Braeden. “That's enough for now, Mr. Brightworthe.”

When they got back up to the shed, he asked, “What should I do with this hole in the wall?”

Alexia frowned. She didn't want to risk someone getting inside and disturbing the items. Some of them had to be artifacts of value. She needed to get Braeden to put one of his spells on the shed. “For now, just lock the door. I'll have Mr. Drake take care of it later tonight.”

The caretaker appeared more than happy to leave it in Braeden's hands. He locked the shed, then headed back to his cottage.

Alexia grabbed a sandwich in the kitchen and headed up to the bedroom with it. After finishing the sandwich, she pulled her find out of her pocket and laid it on the table.

While the strange glow was now gone, it still had a shimmer. She retrieved a toothbrush from the bathroom and lightly drew it across the object, trying to remove the layers of grime.

Her eyes widened as first one wing and then another, and finally a body and a tail, were uncovered. She worked quickly on the head, freeing the emerald dragon pendant from the dust and grime that had hidden the beast for who knew how many years.

She flipped through her notes. Aelthed had mentioned an amethyst and a sapphire pendant, but had written nothing about an emerald one. If the twins had owned the other two, who owned this one?

Alexia held the pendant up to the light and cursed when the beast blinked at her. Instead of freaking out, she ordered, “No. Stay a pendant.”

To her relief it worked. Or the blinking had been nothing more than her imagination. But she wasn't counting on that any longer.

A chill breeze blasted her back. She jumped from the
chair. A swirl of mist spun by the door. The pendant in her hand hissed.

Nathan.
Alexia swallowed and fervently wished she could be at Braeden's side.

 

“The head of housekeeping will be here in a couple of minutes. You plan on attending this meeting?”

Braeden hit the intercom button on his desk phone. “Yes, Cam, I'll be there in a minute.”

He signed the last two invoices on his desk, then headed for the conference room. Thankfully this would be the last meeting today. Since everything else had been taken care of, he could return to Mirabilus shortly.

Although he still hadn't had a chance to figure out what to do with Alexia. If these new powers of hers were going to be a permanent part of her life, she needed to learn how to control them.

And he wasn't certain he was the one to teach her. If this afternoon was any indication, the lessons could get a little dicey.

He met Cam in the hallway. Before his brother could ask anything about the earlier meeting, Braeden gave him a glare that stopped any questions. The pair paused in front of the conference-room door and Braeden asked, “Are they here?”

“Yes. Dani gave them the grand tour, then brought them here.”

Braeden opened the door and caught Alexia as she stumbled into his arms.

“Damn it, Alexia.”

Cam edged around the two of them and waved a hand toward the horrified employees. Their gasps of shock froze as they all turned to mute statues.

“What the hell is going on?” Danielle bolted from the table.

Alexia held up her hand. A green dragon shimmered on her palm. “I found Aelthed's workroom.”

Braeden released his hold. “No cranes?”

“No. Just a trowel.”

“So how did you get here?”

Alexia leaned against him. “Nathan was in our room and I wished I was at your side, instead of there.”

Dani clutched her chest. “You
wished
yourself here?” She looked at Braeden. “When did this happen?”

He wasn't sure whom to attend first—the frozen employees, Alexia or his aunt. He looked at his brother.

Cam raised an eyebrow. “I'll take care of the employees. You get the family members.”

Braeden muttered, “Thanks,” then led both women back to his office.

Once there, Dani leaned against the closed door and slowly ran her hard gaze from the top of Alexia's head to the tip of her toes. Alexia clenched her fists at her sides, visibly bristling at the inspection.