Dragon's Lair (7 page)

“What else is there?”

“The being who left the pages, the one who wanted the translation, the one you said got into your thoughts.”

“I
said?
You think I made it up?”

“It's possible.” After a few moments of silence, Braeden beckoned her out into the mist. “The Learned are a long-lost part of the Mirabilus clan.”

Drawn by the view and his apparent willingness to talk, she forced down the impending doom clutching at her and joined him on the balcony, making certain to stay out of his reach. “Why would someone in your family kill your parents? Why is Danielle so afraid of him?”

“Them, not him. It's more than one person. Although if Nathan still lives, he'd be more than enough to deal with.”

A damp mountain breeze wafted cold against Alexia's cheeks. But she'd gladly suffer the chill. It helped to clear her head. “How so?”

Braeden leaned on the railing. “He was born in the twelfth century and rumored to be immortal. If that's true, it might be a little hard to defeat him.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She'd come to accept many otherworldly abilities since meeting Braeden and his family. But it was hard to believe what he'd just told her. Looking back at him, she said, “Immortal? Braeden, please.”

“I grew up hearing tales about Nathan and his brood.” He shrugged. “I've never met him or any member of his family. I assumed the tales were just that—tales, nothing more. But Danielle is certain he killed my parents.”

“I take it he's a wizard, too?”

“So I'm told. He was supposed to have been named the High Druid at one point in time, but that position was granted to a Drake.”

She shook her head. “So he's waited this long to take his revenge?”

“Unlikely.”

The cry of a hawk soaring somewhere above them caught her attention and she craned her neck to follow the sound. Unable to see through the wall of mist, she closed her eyes and let the mountain's breath wash over her. It seeped steadily into her veins, soothing her jagged nerves, calming her riotous heartbeat.

Alexia sighed. The fear that had been building since yesterday began to fade away in the fog.

The hawk screeched loudly, breaking the silence as if in warning. The hair on her arms stood on end. She frowned, then opened her eyes. What danger had the raptor sensed? She glanced at Braeden. He still stared off into the fog as if his attention was directed as hers had been—on the fog and mountain air.

She could see nothing on either side of the balcony that would cause alarm. But the fog was so thick she couldn't see more than six feet in front of her.

It felt as if someone watched her. Even through the mantle of mist and smoke, the being studied her with a focus so intense it set her stomach churning.

Alexia stilled her mind but could find no hint of intrusion. Still, the sense of being watched was as tangible as the balcony beneath her feet.

She went back inside. While the feeling lessened, it didn't go completely away.

“What's wrong?” Braeden followed her back into the suite, closing the door behind him.

She brushed her hands up and down the thin sleeves of her shirt. “Nothing, I was just getting cold.”

He sat down in one of the chairs flanking the stone fireplace and pulled the coffee table between the chairs. “Sit down and eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You haven't eaten since yesterday. Sit down and eat.”

Had he always been this demanding? She sat down in the other chair. Arguing with him over food wasn't going to get rid of the anger still evident in his eyes.

She met his gaze, and noticing the laugh lines around his mouth, she wondered when he'd last laughed about anything.

Braeden handed her a glass of wine, removed the domed covers from the plates of salad, then unwrapped a basket of rolls.

She drank half the wine, then set it down to pick up a fork and stab at her salad before taking a bite.

One swallow later her stomach growled, letting her know how hungry she was. Braeden shook his head, but thankfully didn't say a word.

While they ate their meal in silence, Alexia wondered why she felt the need to goad him the way she did. If being overly contrary with him was some strange way of protecting herself, it was senseless. Feeding his anger would get her nowhere.

She hadn't always been like that. So when had she started? She paused, midbite, frowning.
After the accident.
Before Braeden noticed her hesitation, she brought the fork to her lips.

Why? She swallowed her bite of salad and nearly choked as the answer tightened her throat.

He handed her the half-empty glass of wine. Their fingers barely touched, yet the unexpected jolt of electricity made her gasp, lodging more salad in her throat.

She downed the remaining wine and gestured for more. Braeden handed her a glass of water as he refilled her wineglass.

Alexia gulped the water, clearing her throat in the process. She drew in a deep breath of air.

The only reason she'd started goading him was to intentionally get him angry so they wouldn't talk. If they didn't talk, she didn't have to admit her fears or her agony. She didn't have to tell him of the guilt she bore or of the blame she placed on him. She didn't have to verbalize her despair or the grief that trailed her even today.

Her stomach knotted and she set the water down before retrieving the glass of wine. Staring at him, she tried swallowing her guilt along with the wine. It didn't work, so she held out the now empty glass.

But instead of filling it again, Braeden plucked the goblet from her fingers, set it on the table, then pushed the table aside.

“What's going on?”

She had known this was coming. Just like the clothes on the floor, it was another quirk. He wasn't going to stop until he had an explanation for everything he'd seen in her mind. It was all she could do not to huff in resignation as she leaned back in the chair. “You already know why I'm here.”

“I know some men attacked you.” He ticked off the items on his fingers. “That your town house was blown up and that you thought it was my Phantom parked in front.”

With three fingers raised in the air, he said, “Those three things don't explain why you're here or why you're packing a gun.” He lowered his hand. “As I already told you, my Phantom was just delivered this morning. I haven't even driven it yet.”

Something in the tone of his voice made her believe him. Perhaps he didn't want her dead. If he did, he could have pushed her over the balcony. Except that would have been a little obvious.

However, someone had forced her into the position of coming to him. The why was fairly obvious—they wanted the whole book translated and Braeden had the book. Still, the question was who. Was it this Nathan?

Or was it Braeden? Would he have gone to such lengths for the translation? No. It would have made more sense for him to seek reconciliation with her, even if only temporarily, to get what he wanted.

“Quit thinking and tell me what's going on.”

A telltale flush heated her cheeks. After all this time it was still so easy for him that he needed no special powers to decipher her expressions or body language. At times she nearly hated him for that skill.

“I already told you all I know. Someone wants the manuscript translated.”

“You just discovered that yesterday morning. You had no clue that they meant you harm, so why were you carrying a gun?”

“To protect myself.”

He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. “From?”

Alexia stared at him. With his arms pitched at that angle and his chest expanded, he looked like a dragon with its wings spread. Worse, he looked like some primitive warrior. A powerful man, strong and sure of himself. Someone who could protect her from any danger. She cleared her throat. If she weren't careful, she'd be throwing herself at that muscular expanse.

When she didn't answer, he asked, “Who is Jack?”

Damn. How had he made that connection?
She nearly gagged on her curse.

“Nobody.”

“A boyfriend?”

“
A
boyfriend? You make it sound like I have a dozen on a string.”

“Is he?”

“God, no.” She wanted to disabuse him of that notion right away. They had enough between them without the added complication of an imagined lover. “No. He was just someone I worked with. We had coffee a couple of times, but that was it.”

“How is he connected with the gun?”

She should have known Braeden wouldn't give up. She rose, unwilling to look at him, thinking it easier to pace the floor instead. “He wanted to be more than a fellow employee. I explained to him that I was married, but he didn't seem to hear, or want to hear me.”

“I'm surprised you remembered.”

This was something else she should have expected—his pointed jabs. Trying her best to ignore them, she continued, “One of the employees held their wedding reception at the museum. We went together—”

“On a date.”

Again she paid no attention to his tone, responding, instead, to his comment. “All of us were there. Jack and I only drove together because my car was in the shop.”

“Not a wise move on your part.”

No kidding. She'd figured that out far too late, though. “Yes, well, he proceeded to get drunk, so I took a cab home.”

“Something you should have taken to get there.”

Ready to scream, she glared at him. “I made a mistake in judgment. That's all.”

Braeden lowered his arms. “The gun?”

Alexia took a deep breath. “Jack was busted for drunk driving on his way home.”

“And?”

She stopped in front of him. Something wasn't quite right. While his comments made it sound as if this was all news to him, his expressions, his tone of voice seemed more bored than anything else.

She narrowed her eyes and tapped one foot. “You already know the
and,
don't you?”

“You mean the part where he was busted for drug possession?”

Alexia flinched. “So you've tracked more than just my spending habits. Did you pay someone to watch me?”

“No, but from now on it's a given that you'll have someone shadowing your every move. The arrest was in the paper.”

“I doubt if Jack getting busted made the newspaper down here. What'd you do—run a search on my name every day?”

“Ah, Alexia, your life wasn't that interesting. Once a week was enough to keep tabs on you.”

Fervid tremors coursed hotly through her. Alexia curled her fingers into fists, closed her eyes and tried her best to count to ten.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself nose to collar bone with Braeden. He'd risen soundlessly and now loomed over her.

“You can't hide anything from me.” He cupped her chin and tipped her head back. “Do you understand that? It doesn't require magic to know where you go or what you do. If you don't just tell me what I need to know, I will find it out myself. And I won't have to delve inside your head to do so.”

“You pay people to watch me?”

“When I need to, yes.”

She didn't understand why he would go that far. “I left you. There was no reason for you to concern yourself with me.”

“You still use my name. You are still my wife.”

“And you were worried that I would embarrass you or disgrace your name somehow?”

He leaned closer. “Don't be a fool.”

Alexia groaned. Every logical thought in her mind screamed,
Push him away, don't keep letting him do this to you!
But her heart urged her to lean against him, to let his lips and hands remind her again of the magic they'd once shared.

She uncurled her fingers and placed her hands against his chest. “Don't. Braeden, please, don't.”

His mouth hovered a breath above hers. “You want this as much as I do.” His lips were warm as he brushed hers with a kiss. “Can you deny that?”

Alexia did her best to ignore what his touch did to her. She knew that the sudden difficulty with breathing could be calmed. The urge to thread her fingers through his hair and draw his mouth back to hers would be quieted. The heat flaring to life in her blood would cool.

Yet while she could eventually steady the erratic pounding of her heart, she would never be able to rid herself of the desperate longing his caress produced.

“No, damn you, I can't deny it.”

He released her. “The gun?”

Alexia nearly groaned at the loss of his touch. She closed her eyes tightly while a shiver raced the length of her body. Finally she looked at him asking, “Gun?”