Dragon's Lair (9 page)

There was too much between them. Even just standing here in the same room with her, emotions threatened to choke him. He'd been through this once before. He wasn't about to lose control and do something they'd both regret.

Braeden paused at the entry door. “I'll be back later. Go to bed.”

“You're just going to walk away?”

“Yes.” Without turning around, he added, “I had a good teacher.” Then he walked out the door and headed down to the basement.

He knew from past experience that some physical exercise would go a long way toward taming his growing unease. There was nothing like a sword fight to clear his head, even if it was with an imaginary foe.

 

As his vaporous wings glided through the wind, Nathan dismissed the previous coldness. One benefit of
taking the form of an elements dragon was that he felt neither heat nor cold.

A quick sweeping circle outside the suite was all he needed to do to know that the Dragon had left Alexia alone. Nathan needed only a few moments to set the next phase of his plan into motion. He decreased his speed to a gentle drift until he landed on the balcony outside the bedroom.

Even though he risked detection by the mortal, he was confident she wouldn't be able to see him. Once he shifted back to a more human, albeit invisible, form, he silently ordered,
“Elsbeth, come to me.”

In less than a heartbeat his wife curled her arms about his neck.
“You called, my love?”

He jerked her arms from around him and set her aside.
“I need only a spell. One to make these two fall into each other's arms.”

Haughty as ever, Elsbeth lifted her chin a notch and looked out toward the forest, asking,
“And what do I get in return?”

Nathan narrowed his eyes and smiled. In his mind he conjured the image of him choking his darling wife to death. The vision instantly took form and the woman beside him gasped. When her eyes nearly bulged from her head and she clawed at the unseen hands around her neck, he whispered,
“You get to live.”

Elsbeth nodded frantically and he released the spell. She quickly caught her breath and waved her hands in the air, chanting some nonsense about love, desire and devotion.

When she was done, he patted her hand. “You better hope that your spell will send these pawns into each other's arms.”

Instead of answering, Elsbeth disappeared into the mists.

 

Braeden slipped back into the suite a couple of hours later, grateful that Alexia had gone to bed. While exhaustion made him less willing to argue, his workout had done little to quell the urge to pull her into his arms.

Unfortunately he couldn't decide what he'd do once he got her there.

After cleaning and putting away his weapon, he approached the bedroom. If she was asleep, he knew that he could set a bomb off next to the bed and she wouldn't wake up. But he also knew that if she'd waited up for him, she'd be good and riled.

He paused outside the open door, breathing a sigh of relief. Alexia was sound asleep.

Once he'd showered and slipped into a clean pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, Braeden paused at the edge of the bed.

Soft light from the bedside night-light fell across Alexia's face. The puffiness of her eyes caused him the first pang of guilt since she'd arrived at the Lair.

She'd cried herself to sleep. Braeden stroked a knuckle gently across the velvety softness of her cheek. Still sleeping, Alexia turned her face into his touch. He reluctantly withdrew his hand.

He didn't doubt for an instant that she, too, carried plenty of demons inside, old and new. While he admittedly was partially to blame for the old ones, she was the only person responsible for the new ones.

Alexia rolled over, snuggling deeper into the blankets. Unwilling to wake her up, Braeden quietly left the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him.

After getting something to drink, he stretched out on the sofa, thankful that Cam had talked him out of leather. Braeden wasn't certain exactly what the fabric was, but at
least it was soft and, as Cam had insisted, it was comfortable enough to sleep on if necessary.

At the time Braeden had laughed at the thought. Why would he ever need to sleep on the sofa? He frowned. Had Cam known this was going to happen?

No. His brother wouldn't withhold that kind of information. Would he?

Braeden shook his head. Obviously he was more tired than he thought. He had no reason to doubt his brother. His distrust was reserved solely for Alexia.

What was he going to do about her? He didn't trust her at all. And while he was angry and frustrated with her and her actions, he realized that he didn't exactly hate her, either.

No matter what, in the end, this maddening woman was still his mate. Logic railed against that fact. A part of him wasn't yet willing to let go completely. He needed to find a way to shut off that part of him.

But until then and until they could change their situation, he would protect her—even if she didn't like his methods. Her likes or dislikes weren't his concern. His most pressing priority was the safety of those on Mirabilus.

If, as he believed, that safety was dependent on translating the manual, he would keep his anger reined in as best he could until Alexia finished the work.

The sound of muffled crying reached him. Unable to ignore the unwanted tugging at his heart, he got up and glanced into the bedroom.

Since she appeared to still be sleeping, he backed away and paced the living room, waiting for her cries to cease.

How many times had he done this before? After the accident he spent many nights pacing the floor outside their bedroom, uncertain what to do. He had tried to be
understanding and kind, but since she'd refused to talk to him, it had gotten him nowhere. So he'd tried to be demanding and forceful, gaining only an empty house.

Once Alexia quieted, he went back to the sofa. Stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling, he dozed on and off, wondering how to keep the warring inside him at bay.

He needed to stay angry for his own self-protection and sanity.

“Braeden.”

He jerked more awake at the whisper in his ear. “Alexia?”

“Braeden, I need you.” Her breath was hot against his skin. Her touch skimmed down his chest, setting his blood on fire.

“What are you doing?”

She kissed his cheek and slid her hand further down his stomach. “Don't you want me?”

His physical reaction had nothing to do with it. Of course he wanted her. What man wouldn't? But what he wanted more was to know why she was acting so strangely.

Instead of following logic and pushing her away, he made what he knew could be the biggest mistake of his life—he closed his eyes and rolled onto his side to make room for her on the sofa. “More than anything. Come here.”

She lay against him, her legs entwined with his, her lips against his. He slipped one arm around her and the other beneath her, then stopped.

Something didn't feel right. He stroked a hand down her back, across her hip. It was his wife, all right. He'd long ago memorized every hill and valley of her body. Yet his wife never would have come to him like this.

He searched the suite with his mind. While he found no one, his senses warned of an intrusion.

Braeden frowned. Had someone been here while he'd been in the basement?

He focused on Alexia. Her subconscious was sound asleep. Yet her physical body performed flawlessly. Her expert touch as she slid a hand beneath the loose waist of his sweatpants drew a gasp from him.

Braeden sucked in a breath in an attempt to calm his raging libido. Alexia was rarely this demanding. And considering that neither one of them was too thrilled to see the other, he doubted his wife was acting under her own volition.

He ignored his oath to stay out of her mind and probed quickly, catching the hint of an unfamiliar power coursing through her. Alexia was completely and totally uninitiated. She had no powers other than those he gave her on occasion. He'd given her nothing since her return.

Meaning someone else had.

There was one way to find out. He leaned into her. “Oh, baby, I want you so bad.”

Tipping her head up, she pressed her lips to his, “I want you, too.”

Braeden groaned, then whispered, “There's not enough room here.”

She laughed softly. “There's always a bed.”

He paused. It would be so easy to take advantage of the offer. Even though his tightly strung body was more than ready to oblige, his stomach clenched at the idea.

This was not his wife. He needed to remember that this was nothing more than someone using his wife for their own ends.

If he wanted to free her of this spell without causing any lasting harm, he needed to make certain he didn't do some
thing they would both regret later. Somehow he had to get her back into her bed and slip away before she awoke.

While he hesitated Alexia slinked down his chest, her lips teasing as she went.

He swallowed a curse. Were they watching? Listening? Waiting to see what would happen?

Regrets be damned. He wouldn't be bested in his own domain.

He sat up, drawing her with him. “It's been too long. Let's go.” He rose, picking her up as he did so, cradling her in his arms. He could feel her breath on his neck, her fingers in his hair. If he wasn't careful, he could easily fall victim to the lust flaring to life inside.

As quickly and quietly as possible, he walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. With luck and a little manipulation on his part, none of this would pass to her conscious mind in the morning.

When he bent to place her on the bed, she clung to him, pulling him down alongside her. Before he could extricate himself, she jerked at his sweats and ran her tongue across her lips.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. If he yelled at her, it would only awaken her and then he'd have to admit that he hadn't kept her safe—and give an explanation he didn't want to give at the moment.

Mustering all the thought processes he still had, Braeden pushed her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with his body. “Slow down. We have all night.”

His assurance did little to soothe her. “I need you. Now.” Before he could form an answer, she caught his lips with hers.

She tasted like Alexia, smelled like her. He cupped her cheek, and the flesh beneath his touch was just as soft. Braeden fought the groan building in his chest.

She uncurled her arms from around his neck and shimmied her silky camisole up her body, breaking their kiss long enough to slide it over her head before dropping it on the floor.

He took the opportunity to push himself upright. Straddling her on his knees, Braeden silently ordered,
“Release my wife. Now.”

Without warning the being lashed out, using Alexia as a weapon. She clawed at his face, her fingernails gouging the flesh. Before he could grab her wrists, she clawed him again. This time his blood trickled hot from the deep gashes on his cheek.

In mere seconds Alexia fell back onto the bed. Remnants of a shadow swirled from her, then raced toward the balcony door to disappear into the darkness of the night.

Braeden did a quick check to make certain that whatever presence had been in the suite was now gone. He glanced at the balcony, whispering, “I'll deal with you later.”

Right now he needed to get out of the bedroom before waking Alexia. But as he moved to get up from the bed, she gasped. “What are you doing?”

Not wanting to make this memory any more tangible than it was, he leaned over her, stroked her cheek and lied, “Hush. It's just a dream, Alexia.”

Easily susceptible to his powers, she closed her eyes, giving him the chance to make a hasty exit.

A
lexia opened her eyes and groaned. If she didn't know better, she'd swear that somebody had used her as a punching bag last night. She ached from head to toe.

She sat up slowly and squeezed her eyes closed against the pounding in her temples. She hadn't had that much wine. There was no reason for her to feel this bad.

With an effort she rose. Feeling drugged, she staggered to the bathroom. After flipping on the shower, she rested her forehead against the cool tile and let the hot water pour over her.

Obviously something had happened last night, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what. Braeden had brought her bags of new clothes. They'd eaten. Talked. Argued. After he'd stormed out with his sword, frustration and confusion overwhelmed her until she'd cried herself to sleep.

While that might account for her headache, it didn't explain the rest.

Strange and distorted memories flitted through her mind. Her breath hitched. What had she done? Taking a slow, deep breath, she calmed her racing heart. Nothing. She hadn't done anything except sleep.

Then why did she vaguely remember bits and pieces of joining him on the sofa? And later of scratching his cheek?

Alexia shook the water from her face. No. It was nothing more than a strange dream.

It had to be.

Otherwise she wouldn't be able to face him again.

What in the world would have made her do anything that…stupid and outrageous? How was she going to find out if she even had?

Alexia nearly choked on the answer. The only way to discover if it had been a dream or an act of insanity was to do the unthinkable—go and find Braeden.

The thought made her stomach roll and head pound even harder, but it wasn't as if she could hide from him forever.

Quickly stepping out of the shower, Alexia dried off, dressed and got ready to leave the bedroom. She paused at the door and wondered how she was going to explain her actions if she discovered it hadn't all been a dream.

 

Braeden stepped out of the elevator. Picking up his pace, he passed his office and headed for his brother's. He'd managed to dress and leave the suite before Alexia awoke.

He hoped she would sleep late so he could get some work done uninterrupted. He entered Cam's office without knocking, then barreled right into the topic he'd unintentionally put off yesterday—candidates for the security-chief position. “How many choices do we have?”

“As many as you want.” Cameron swiveled his chair away from the laptop to look at Braeden across the desk. “What's Alexia doing here?” His eyes locked on Braeden's face. “Who were you fighting with?”

“Nobody, it's just a scratch.” Leave it to Cam not to beat around the bush. “She needed a place to stay.” Braeden dropped into a chair. “I'd like to have at least three choices to start with.”

“Scratch?” Cam shook his head in apparent disbelief. “From what? A mountain lion?” With a quick push, Cam slid three folders across the desk. “Here, start with these. Is she back for good?”

“No. Just a couple of days.” Braeden reached for the folders, only to have them moved beyond his fingers by an unfurling, gnarled branch of the dragon tree on the corner of Cam's desk.

Braeden hated that damn miniature tree—almost as much as the aberration apparently hated him. He stared at his brother. “Move it, or I'll kill it.”

“That's brave of you.” Cameron rolled his eyes before moving the ancient pun-sai tree out of reach to the credenza behind him. “You act as if it's some beast out to do you harm.”

“A tree that moves at will is a beast.” Braeden snagged the folders and leafed through the top two, dismissing them with little more than a glance. “Not enough experience.” It was too bad he couldn't deal with Alexia in the same manner—just run through her résumé without any preconceived notions or feelings.

Cameron slid two more folders toward him. “Any idea why someone would blow up her town house?”

“Other than to send her running here? No idea.” Braeden set one folder aside as a possible interview candidate.

“Should I avoid Danielle for a while?”

“That's up to you.” He ignored Cam's snicker and slid one folder back across the desk, adding the other one to the “possible” pile.

“These last two are it.” Cam handed the final two folders to him, asking, “So where's Alexia now?”

“Sleeping.”

Cameron leaned back in his chair. “In your suite?”

Braeden ignored the question. It was none of his business.

At Cam's soft laugh, he looked up from the folder he held. “What?”

Cam tilted back his chair. “I wonder if you'll answer my next question.”

“Which is?” He hated it when Cam played these little games. Occasionally, instead of just saying or asking what was on his mind, Cam liked to drag it out. Thankfully, it didn't happen too often.

“What do you intend to do about your marriage?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.”

Braeden frowned. He didn't want or need his twin's interference. “I'm not going to argue with you about this.”

“I have no intention of arguing with you about it.” Cameron shrugged. “I just want you to get your head out of your ass and fix your marriage like you should have done years ago.”

Only his twin could get away with saying something that blunt. Anyone else would have had to call 9-1-1 after picking themselves up off the floor. But he and Cam had been together literally from the moment of conception. Only a few minutes separated the heir from the spare.

Still, having shared a womb didn't lessen the impact of Cam's brutal bluntness. “Why don't you keep your
mouth shut and let me worry about Alexia and my marriage?”

Instead of taking offense or hounding him further, Cameron tapped the top folder. “I think we should call this guy in.”

“Then call him in. We need to get security personnel in here as quickly as possible.”

“Why? What's up?”

“Dani thinks Nathan might be involved.” Braeden wasn't certain. Obviously someone had put a spell on Alexia last night, but he didn't know if it was Nathan.

Cam leaned back in his chair and whistled. “Nathan the Learned?”

“Yes.”

“And you think some mortal security guard with a gun will keep him at bay?”

Braeden rolled his eyes. “Of course not. But the security force will be able to handle the normal day-to-day details while we figure out what to do about Nathan.”

Cameron didn't look as if he agreed, but he said, “It's worth a shot, I guess. I'll bring this guy in.”

“Good.” Braeden rose. “I'll be in my office if anything comes up.”

 

Since it was already after nine, Alexia wasn't surprised to discover that Braeden had already left the suite. So she headed down to the offices.

She stopped before his slightly open door to knock. Voices raised in anger made her pause.

“I told you she was nothing but trouble.”

Alexia shook her head. Of course Danielle Drake would say that.

“I doubt if she even knows what happened last night.”

Alexia swallowed her groan. Great, it hadn't been just a dream.

“And I wouldn't be surprised if she'd instigated it herself.”

Alexia blinked at Danielle's assumption. Even if she did have any powers, she wouldn't have used them to seduce a man who had the ability to crush her heart.

“No. Alexia wouldn't go that far. Besides, she doesn't have the ability.”

She frowned. This wasn't the first time since arriving at the Lair that Braeden had defended her to his aunt. While she appreciated his effort, she wasn't a child anymore. She could defend herself against Danielle.

Alexia rapped on the door before pushing it open further. When both Braeden and Danielle turned to stare at her, she shrugged. “The door was open.”

“Eavesdropping?”

“No, Danielle, though I'm sure a deaf person would have heard you.”

Braeden sat on the edge of his desk. “How are you feeling?”

She turned her attention to him and gasped at the gouges on his face. She'd envisioned scratches. But the marks on his cheek were a bit worse than simple scratches. He looked as if he'd fought with a tiger and lost. “Miserable.” Especially now that she'd seen him.

Danielle smirked at Braeden. “See, she knows what happened. She probably planned it.”

Alexia kept her gaze locked on Braeden. “Discussing last night?” The thought that he would discuss her with his aunt made her skin crawl.

“No.” He nodded toward a chair. “You better sit down.”

Instead, she headed over to the small bar. “Coffee?” she asked.

“Help yourself.”

Once she'd poured a cup, she took a seat. “What's going on?”

“So you do remember last night?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but just bits and pieces.” She paused, then tried to explain. “I don't know what came over me. Most of it's like a foggy bad dream.”

“A spell gone wrong.”

He'd said it as if he was talking about a lightbulb going out, as if it was a common occurrence. But a conversation about spells was far from common for her. Afraid she'd spill the hot coffee, she held it away from her lap and asked, “Beg your pardon?”

“You were under the influence of someone's spell. Either the being doing the casting did something wrong, or something inside you fought against it.”

“I acted insane.”

Braeden ignored Danielle's snort, saying, “That's what happens.”

After taking a long swallow of the coffee, she sighed. “I really didn't come here to bring you trouble.”

Braeden didn't acknowledge her statement, but said, “We just have to work on making sure nobody can do that again.”

“Do you think it was this Nathan?”

“No clue.” He shrugged. “At first I wasn't certain it was a who.”

Alexia took a breath. She'd been sure that the voice she'd heard in her head had been much more than human. No mere human could possess the amount of evil she'd felt from his presence. Even though she didn't want to, she forced herself to ask, “If not a who, then
what
did you think it might have been?”

“This is why you could never be a true Drake.” Danielle's hard glare pierced her. “You're far too single-minded in your belief that only humans walk this earth.”

“Actually, I was very aware that the thing I heard in my head was more than human. Just as I knew Braeden wasn't a normal human when we got married.” Alexia couldn't resist adding, “I never was too sure about you, though.”

The floor beneath their feet shook momentarily, cutting off their verbal sparring before it went any further. Danielle narrowed her eyes, but closed her mouth.

Alexia whistled softly. Not one item had fallen off a shelf. No picture vibrated out of place. Her coffee hadn't sloshed and nothing on his desk had even quivered. Her husband had obviously refined his powers.

Braeden crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “Are you ladies done?”

He didn't appear angry, so Alexia said, “This spell caster wouldn't have been—” she hesitated, but couldn't help glancing at his aunt “—anyone here?”

“No.” Danielle answered. “I wouldn't have botched a spell that badly.”

It was nice that Danielle Drake thought so highly of herself.

Watch your sarcasm, Ms. Reve.
Danielle's thoughts rasped against Alexia's mind.

Alexia set her cup on the desk and rose. She looked pointedly at Danielle. “I'm only going to say this once. Stay out of my head. Do you hear me?”

“Is that a threat?”

“Take it any way you want. I'm not putting up with your games this time.”

Braeden swore before physically coming between her and his aunt. Alexia waited for him to berate her for talking
to his aunt that way. But to her surprise he looked at Danielle. “Leave her alone.”

Danielle gasped as if she'd been deeply insulted. “She brings us nothing but trouble and you defend her?”

Instead of going into any detailed explanation, Braeden simply said, “I'll deal with her myself—later. Right now I'm telling you to back off. Like it not, she's still my wife.”

Alexia nearly fell back onto her chair. To cover the lack of grace, she picked up her cup and finished off the coffee.

“She's dangerous, Braeden, don't you see that?”

He put a hand on his aunt's shoulder. “Dani, I can handle this. You have nothing to worry about.”