Dragon's Curse (Harlequin Nocturne) (5 page)

When Braeden remained silent, Cam asked, “Ariel was sent here
for a reason, don’t you think it wise to discover it?”

His brother nodded. “Yes, but—”

“No.” Cam stood up. “There are no
buts
. Your wife is seven months along with twins. She and the babies
are your main concern. I can take care of things here.”

When a look of indecision crossed Braeden’s face, Cam said,
“Go. See to Alexia. Make sure she’s safe. She’s more important than anything
else, including the Lair.” To drive it home, he added, “Besides, I can contact
you at will if and when I need you.”

The door to the office opened a crack. “Are you two still in
here?”

Braeden answered his wife with an obvious lie. “No, I’m in our
apartment packing.”

He rose and looked at Cam a moment before saying, “You damn
well better call if you need anything.”

“I will. Go.”

Cam waited for his brother to disappear before turning to once
again stare out the window. He’d call Braeden only if he absolutely had to.
While he didn’t expect any trouble he couldn’t handle, a part of him hoped that
Ariel Johnson wouldn’t prove too easy an adversary.

Chapter 4

P
ockets of dense fog kept Ariel alert on
her drive back up to the Lair the next morning. Without warning, the road ahead
would be obscured from view and then just as suddenly the fog would
disappear.

She lessened her grip on the steering wheel of her van only
when the Lair came into view. But tightened it again the moment she saw Cameron
Drake standing by the studded double doors.

Ariel hadn’t expected the man to welcome her personally. She
felt oddly as if a dragon was bidding her welcome to his lair as he stirred the
boiling cook pot.

She threw the van in Park, fighting to calm her overwrought
nerves and overactive imagination. While she knew that danger resided here, she
doubted if anyone, or anything, was actually waiting to use her as the prime
ingredient for a stew.

Cameron opened her door. “Good morning. Have you had breakfast
yet?”

Ariel couldn’t help herself, she gasped at what she hoped was
an innocent question.

His eyebrows rose briefly at her response. Before he could say
anything, she quickly swung out of the van, stumbled and ended up against the
solid plane of his chest.

Cameron grasped her shoulders. “Steady there.”

The touch of his hand lingered, sending a frisson of awareness
through her. When she glanced up to apologize, the vision of him lowering his
mouth to hers sent a rush of blood to her head.

She swayed against him and swore she felt him gather her close
before he stepped back, keeping a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Ariel shook the strange imaginings from her mind. “Yes, fine,
thanks. I just moved too fast, I guess.”

“You need breakfast.”

“No, not really.” She shook her head as the thought of food
made her stomach knot. “But some coffee would be wonderful.”

“We’ve got plenty.” Cam followed her to the rear of the van.
“Let me help with your things, then I’ll show you where we hide the java.”

When he grabbed her old battered briefcase, she held her
breath, praying the latches didn’t decide now would be a good time to give
out.

She choked back a sigh of relief when he handed her the satchel
intact. The last thing she needed was to have her new boss see all her notes and
research on basic gardening. She feared this game of charades would be up before
they played the first round.

“Morning, Ms. Johnson.”

Ariel turned to see an elderly white-haired man approach
pushing a baggage cart.

“Good morning…”

“Harold.” Cam supplied the name, adding, “Harold is the
lifeline that holds this place together.”

The older man snorted. “Just the general maintenance man.” He
started unloading her suitcases. “I help out where I can.”

Cameron piled the last bag onto the cart and shut the van’s
doors. “Watch him, Ariel, when he starts in with the modest act, he’s out for
something.”

Harold chortled. “A day off would be nice.”

“You had one last year.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose an extra day off every hundred and fifty
years is asking a bit much.” Cameron frowned as the older man winked at her. “A
bunch of slave drivers is what these Drakes are.”

Ariel laughed at the man’s joke, hoping the tremor of
nervousness wasn’t too apparent. “I’ll keep that in mind, Harold.”

“If there’s anything you need, miss, you just holler and I’ll
see what I can do.”

“Thank you, I’ll do that. Please, call me Ariel.”

She and Cameron followed Harold into the Lair. Once in the
lobby, Jennie, the receptionist she’d met yesterday, called out, “Mr. Drake, a
moment, please.”

After Harold sauntered off with the baggage cart, Cameron
excused himself, giving Ariel time to collect herself and to survey her
surroundings. She’d noticed yesterday that the floor was planked wood made to
look old with scuffs, knots and faded spots here and there.

Suits of chain mail and plate armor flanked the arched stone
doorways. Shields and ancient weapons mounted on the walls, along with iron wall
sconces, made the lobby look like a great hall in a medieval castle.

An appropriate setting for a place called Dragon’s Lair, she
guessed. Unfortunately, all her research on commercial gardening covered
tropical-type gardens. She doubted if something like that would fit into this
decor.

Now what would she do? Panic wormed its way into her head. If
she couldn’t come up with something, he’d realize she had no experience for this
job whatsoever. The cold dread only increased when Cameron returned with an odd
expression on his face.

“All the completed apartments in the employee wing are
occupied.”

The panic escalated. Where would she stay? Mr. Renalde had
already told her that even though it would be impossible for him to communicate
with her while she was on the Drakes’ property, it was the perfect option. He
wanted her close—and this would keep her as close to the Drakes as possible.

His being unable to communicate with her had seemed a blessing
until he’d added that if she didn’t check in with him at her appointed times,
meaning she’d have to find excuses to leave the grounds, her brother’s life
would be forfeited.

What would Renalde do when he discovered she wasn’t going to be
living at the Lair?

Cameron’s expression lighted. “No problem. For now, we’ll put
you in the family wing.”

Ariel blinked. “Family wing?” Something about the idea of
living so close to him and his family didn’t seem right—or safe. “That isn’t
necessary.”

“The fog settles in without warning. I won’t have you driving
up and down the mountain every day. There are plenty of rooms. We’ll put you in
a suite at the other end of the floor for your privacy.”

She followed him to the far side of the lobby. A mural of a
dragon battling with a knight covered the expanse of the wall. Were it not for
the floor indicator above a barely perceptible seam in the mural, she wouldn’t
have realized there was an elevator behind the painting.

No matter how beautiful the painting, she couldn’t help
noticing that everywhere she looked, she saw dragons. Ariel shivered, wondering
if this was an omen, or simply a manifestation of her worried mind.

The elevator doors whooshed closed behind them, increasing
Ariel’s feeling of unease. She moved to a far back corner, suddenly certain that
moving to the Lair had been a very bad idea.

As Cameron turned toward her, his cell rang and he moved to the
opposite corner to take the call.

His voice was too low, his one-word responses too brief for her
to make any sense of his conversation, giving Ariel more time to ponder her
situation.

Her knowledge of the Drakes was limited. The only information
she had about them came from Mr. Renalde.

At first she’d thought the Drakes simply possessed items
Renalde wanted—the dragon pendant and the puzzle box. But after meeting with him
yesterday, Ariel realized he viewed them as something more than just a mark he
wanted to rob. The Drakes were his enemy.

It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he’d said it. When
he’d given her his final orders, he’d half whispered something about making the
Drakes suffer a very long and painful death.

What would she do if Renalde dropped the matter of their deaths
into her hands? Stealing was one thing. Murder was another story entirely.

The Drakes had done nothing to her, or Carl. They were her
enemies only because they stood in the way of gaining the items she needed to
give to Renalde. She wasn’t going to be responsible for their deaths.

Besides, she couldn’t. The mere thought of killing something or
someone was so abhorrent that it wasn’t even a consideration. That was something
Renalde would have to do himself.

But he’d stated that he couldn’t come onto the Drakes’
property. She didn’t know why, but she hoped that was true. Perhaps then he
would never get the opportunity to do them physical harm while she was
present.

Just as the elevator stopped and the doors parted, Cameron
laughed.

The hairs on the back of Ariel’s neck rose as she recognized
the same deep laugh that had followed her escape from the chamber at Mirabilus.
She stared at her new boss, clenching her hands into fists, trying to fight back
the terror clawing at her chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe, let
alone scream in fear.

Cameron clicked his cell off and then turned to Ariel. “I’ll
show you to your…” He paused, frowning. The woman was pale—far too pale. Her
eyes were huge, her hands clenched as she mutely stared at him.

Even though the elevator had stopped and the doors were open,
she seemed frozen to the back wall. “Ariel?”

He reached toward her, pulling his hand back when she jerked
away from his touch.

He ignored the urge to dip into Ariel’s thoughts, relying
instead on her body language and what he could sense. The closer he got to her,
the more she seemed to shrink into herself.

He’d obviously done something to frighten her. The sharp scent
of pure fear swirled from her to fill the elevator and Cam frowned at the
sharpness of the icy chill in the air surrounding them.

Standing in the elevator wasn’t going to get them anywhere, so
he reached a hand toward her. “Ariel?”

She jerked away with a gasp.

Determined to banish her terror and get to the bottom of the
cause, Cam swept her from her feet and into his arms.

Ariel’s eyes widened farther, she opened her mouth as if to
scream and promptly passed out.

Cameron’s emphatic curse brought his brother Sean into the
hall. He looked at the woman in Cam’s arms then said, “We really need to work on
your method of picking up dates.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Don’t you
think the conversation’s going to be a bit one-sided?”

“Shut up and open my door.” Cam added, “The key is in my
pocket.”

Sean dug the key card from Cam’s jacket pocket as they headed
down the hall. Opening the door, he asked, “So, who’s the unfortunate lady?”

“The new gardener.” Before Sean could voice anything else, Cam
kicked the door shut in his brother’s face.

At a loss, Cam stood in the small foyer.
Now what?
If he took her to a bedroom and she woke up there, it was
a safe bet she’d misconstrue his intentions.

His intentions?
He wanted to laugh
at the absurd thought. The woman was the Lair’s gardener—not a romantic
interest.

Although, it had been a while since he’d held a woman this
close. Truth be told, he liked the feel of her in his arms. Her heart beating
against his chest made him long to hold her even closer. How much better would
it feel if she came into his arms willingly?

Cam shuddered. Where had that nonsense come from? He’d vowed to
shun relationships after Carol’s undeserved death. Since he couldn’t guarantee
their safety, he wasn’t about to become involved with any woman—especially not
this one. He crossed to the living room and laid Ariel on the sofa.

He straightened and stared down at her, wondering why he
suddenly felt so empty. She was the enemy and an employee—a temporary one at
that. Cam was certain that once he figured out why she was having to help the
Learneds and confronted her, she’d be running back to her real boss as fast as
she could.

But until then…he brushed an escaped curl from her face…until
then he’d enjoy uncovering her secrets layer by layer.

Unable to resist the urge, Cam stroked her cheek with the back
of his fingers. The softness of her skin was warm beneath his touch.

Even though he knew it would only create untold problems, he
sat on the edge of the sofa. Something oddly comforting—almost inviting—washed
over him.

He closed his eyes against the feelings making this woman—his
enemy—seem somehow right, only to find himself taking flight in his mind.

His beast had taken control. As the mountains and streams fell
away below him, a cool breeze rushed across his wings. His cares and mundane
human concerns vanished as he reveled in the freedom of the air and warmth of
the sun.

Just beyond the edge of his human awareness, Cam sensed that he
wasn’t alone—some other magical beast soared with him. Since he detected no
danger, his defensive instincts remained dormant.

Never before had he sensed another of his kind. If any
changelings besides him existed, they’d made it a point to hide from him.

Curious, he dipped a wing and craned his neck to look back. The
air behind him was empty. He was as alone now as he’d ever been. Why had he
thought it would ever be any different?

Heavy of heart and strangely ill at ease, he folded his wings
snuggly against his body. Once again the air rushed past him, turning cold and
damp as he descended into the shadows.

The touch of a hand resting lightly on top of his own jolted
him back to reality. He looked from the hand, so small and pale compared to his,
to Ariel.

Her eyes were still closed, but her features had relaxed. She
appeared to be sleeping. If the seductive smile curving her lips was any
indication, her dreams were more than just pleasant.

Did she dream about a lover from her past, or the present? Or,
were her dreams giving her a glimpse into the future?

He shouldn’t, Cam knew it would be an intrusion of the worst
kind. But knowing that it would be the perfect way to discover her mission
without detection, it was impossible to resist.

Like his aunt and Braeden, he could read minds. But the precise
order of an active human mind, when perceived in more than quick snatches,
tended to confuse and upset his beast.

However, he could leisurely take his time to see and feel the
dreams of other people. He had never been certain if it was him or his beast,
but the unguarded, sometimes telling, and often frantic working of the
dreamworld was within his reach.

Unwilling to miss an opportunity to gain insight and possible
answers to his questions about Ariel and perhaps find a way to protect her
against the Learneds, Cam shook off his hesitation and leaned forward.