Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 (17 page)

She barely had time to remoisten her lips before he crushed them beneath his. His tongue invaded her mouth, asserting its dominance. She sparred back, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip. Their battle over supremacy drove them from the balcony rail and they thudded against the door leading into her room. He trumped her by wedging her against the glass. She counter-maneuvered by kicking his nearest foot away, widening his stance until he was forced to plant his hand on the door for support. Again he upped the ante with a provocative bump and grind against her pelvis.

His tongue retreated from her mouth and traveled down the slope of her neck. Panting, she fought her body’s instinctual desire to arch into him. Fingers plainly skilled in the art of pleasure cupped her breast. She bit back a moan. Sneaky bastard didn’t play fair.

“I could make you come. Right here and now, if I wanted to.” Dash dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat and flirted with the erratic drum of her pulse. “But where’s the fun in that? Instead, I’m going to take you in my bed and explore every delicious nook of your body. Only when you’re out of your head with pleasure and begging for the climax you’re desperate for, will I slide deep in here.” His hand left her breast and slid between her legs.

She swallowed with some difficulty. “Pretty detailed plan you’ve got there.”

“Something needed to occupy my mind the last few days.”

“What if I say no?”

“You won’t.” The pad of his thumb rubbed her through the chemise and his grin turned infuriatingly arrogant when she gasped and arched into his hand. “Your body won’t let you.”

Those were precisely the words she needed to hear. She slipped under his arm and reached for the door handle. Ducking inside her room, she slammed the door and twisted the lock. The last thing she saw before sliding the curtains in place was the stunned expression on Dash’s face.

Chapter Twelve

“How damn difficult can it be tracking down a thief on my own?” Hell, she’d managed just fine once before.

Mara dragged her brush one last time through her hair. Giving up on the uncooperative curls, she tossed the brush onto the marble ledge above the bathroom sink and stalked into the main room. Her corded vest hung from the back of the chair angled in front of the dresser. She tossed it on over her blouse and jammed her feet into her sandals. Shooting a glare at Dash’s door, she exited the room.

Her mood lightened considerably on the ride down to the lobby. Hard to be a sourpuss when the glass-enclosed lift announced each floor with such cheery enthusiasm. Really, who knew machinery could be so perky?

“Have a lovely day,” the lift chirped when she reached the lobby.

“Um, you too.” Waggling her fingers in a departing wave, she stepped out and crossed to the spacious front entrance.

Outside, the streets bustled with morning activity. It was quite a different vibe from the party scene the night before. A vendor stood outside a kiosk displaying vials filled with mysterious substances. He spotted her and rushed forward, brandishing several of the vials in one of his hairy-knuckled hands.

“M’lady, this is your lucky day. Normally I charge big merca for my amazing cure-alls, but since your beauty has addled my brain, I’m going to cut you a deal.”

Not wishing to be rude in the face of his effusive and rather over-the-top flattery, she sent him a patient smile. “Thanks, but I don’t need—”

“This here is my most popular potion.” The man waved a vial brimming with a sparkly pink liquid in front of her. “It’ll make your feller randy as a Weliker hound.”

Mara stared at the vial in horror.
Oh jeez, I definitely don’t need that.

The vendor slapped his forehead. “What was I thinking? Pretty thing such as you doesn’t need help hoisting her man’s rigging.”

A choked laugh sputtered from Mara.
Rigging?

“No worries. I’ll find you the perfect potion.” The vials clinked musically when, with a sleight of hand, the vendor shuffled them. A small child dressed in a raggedy tunic that drooped on his bony shoulders approached the kiosk, gaining the man’s eagle-eyed attention. “Off with you,” he bellowed, shaking a fist at the boy.

The child scurried down the walkway.

Mara leveled an accusing glare on the vendor. “You scared him.”

“Good. He’s a filthy runt.” The vendor gave a final shake of his fist before turning back to her. He took one look at her face and gave an anxious stutter. “He’s a thief, m’lady. Don’t feel sorry for him.”

“Maybe, but he’s also just a child.”

“Those are the ones you have to watch out for. They’re fast and too crafty for their own good. I can’t tell you how much merchandise I’ve lost to the likes of them.” The vendor appraised the front display of his kiosk. His face suddenly darkened with rage. He stormed to the baskets and thumped a fist hard on the table, making the vials roll and click together. “Two vials are missing! That’s it—I’m siccing the law enforcers on the little mongrel. He can’t keep robbing me blind if he’s locked behind the fairy prison’s bars.”

Mara blinked at the vendor’s harsh pronouncement. She felt for his plight, but at the same time her heart went out to the dirty-faced child. In tough times, people would do whatever it took to survive. And the fairy prison was no place for a small, defenseless boy. “Here,” she said, rooting in her pocket. “I’ll recompense you for whatever he took.”

“M’lady, you are as kind as you are beautiful. For that, I’ll sell you my most requested potion for a fraction of its value.”

Mara shook her head and popped her coin purse open. “No, really. I don’t—”

“It’s guaranteed to bring you the most restful slumber you’ve ever experienced.”

His boast made her head snap up. “Hey, that I can use. How much?”

The vendor’s smile stretched wide, revealing a mouthful of stained, crooked teeth. Apparently none of his potions contained a cure-all for bad oral hygiene. “For you, ten merca.”

She nodded and pulled out the necessary currency.

“Never settle for the first offer,” said a deep baritone behind her. “Especially from a thief.”

Her hand reflexively tightened around the merca resting in her palm. Pivoting, she stared blankly at Jerrick. She was so shocked to see him it took a moment to find her tongue. “You’ve got it wrong…he’s sort of the victim here.”

“That’s what he wants you to think.” Jerrick focused on the vendor, a hardened glint in his eyes. “The boy works for him. They run quite a lucrative business, from what I hear.”

Mara glared at the vendor. “That’s despicable. He’s a
child
.”

The old man had the audacity to shrug his thin shoulders. “I pay him a quarter of the profit.” He slid a nervous glance Jerrick’s way before giving her a pleading look. “Look, no harm done. Please accept this vial as my apology.”

She pinched her lips together. “No thanks. I doubt it even works.” Judging from his shady business dealings, it’d be a miracle if it did anything beyond rob innocent people of their hard-earned merca.

“But it does, m’lady.” The man’s head bobbed with vigorous enthusiasm. “I give it to my wife whenever I tire of her endless nagging. Believe me, her snores are far easier for my ears to take.”

What sounded suspiciously close to a chuckle snuck from Jerrick. Mara turned and nearly keeled over in shock at the sight of him grinning. The expression made him look approachable and…downright gorgeous.

“Take it.” Jerrick gestured towards the vendor. “If his persistence is anything like his wife’s alleged nagging, it’s the only way you’ll get rid of him.”

Mara reluctantly plucked the vial from the vendor’s outstretched hand. The man gave Jerrick a wide berth as he scurried to the safety of his kiosk. Tucking the vial into her pocket, she peered up at Jerrick. A soft laugh scooted between her lips. “The sisters of fate really are sprinkling their good-luck dust on me.”

The corner of Jerrick’s mouth quirked. “Sure, give them all the credit. Not like I was the one who kept you from getting scammed.”

“Mm, true—for which I owe you my everlasting thanks. But the bit of fate I meant is us running into each other.”

“Fate had nothing to do with it. I was waiting for you.”

“Really?” She blinked, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of him casing the front of the hotel, on the lookout for her.
Wait a minute. How did he even know where to find me?
Before she could vocalize the question, he took her elbow and steered her around the sailcloth-shaded kiosk, angling them away from the light flow of pedestrian traffic. His eyes never left hers, but his big body seemed on high alert. For what, she didn’t know. Maybe thieves were naturally edgy that way. Probably came with the territory.

A beam of sunlight snuck across the kiosk’s roof and bounced off the side of Jerrick’s head, making the sun-kissed streaks in his sable hair more pronounced. “What are you doing with him?”

She cocked her head. To say his question was vague and cryptic was an understatement. Still, she had a good inkling he wasn’t talking about the devious vendor. “By him, I assume you’re referring to Dash?”

Jerrick’s jaw clenched, providing her with the answer. She wrapped her arms around her chest to ward off the sudden arctic front blowing off him. “It’s kind of a long story.”

A tight smile barely cracked his expression. “Lucky for you, I’ve got time to waste.” He swept an assessing glance down the walkway. “But we’re not airing our business here.”

“Okay, so where do you—?” Mara broke off when Jerrick stepped around her and slung an arm across her shoulders. In the amount of time it took her brain to formulate a protest at his presumptuous behavior, he’d hustled her away from the kiosk.

Down the street, he ushered her inside a small dining hall. The clatter of eating utensils provided a musical backdrop to the buzz of conversations floating inside the cramped room. Jerrick led her to a table situated close to the kitchen, and she plopped onto one of the clear Lucite chairs. She frowned at the cacophony coming from the kitchen. “It’s noisy back here.”

“Good.” Jerrick removed his black leather jacket and sank into the seat neighboring hers. He grabbed the cup resting in the saucer in front of him and flipped it right side up before glancing at her. “Easier to keep our conversation private.”

The close proximity of his large and rather intimidating frame made her nerves tingle. So much so, her fingers trembled when she righted her own cup. The wariness prickling her skin didn’t resemble the flush of heat she felt whenever Dash invaded her space. Not that Jerrick wasn’t bone-melting sexy, because he was. But he was also a stranger who exuded a dark, dangerous energy that any woman with half a brain would wisely steer clear of.

A male server approached and filled their cups with the Jufferi tea sloshing in his carafe before rushing off to collect eating utensils for them. Her hand still shaking, Mara lifted her cup, thankful when she didn’t spill its contents all over her pants. She took a cautious sip and blinked away tears when she scalded her tongue on the aromatic brew.

Jerrick leaned back in his seat, but the tiny hairs standing at full attention along her nape didn’t let her forget his presence.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice.”

“Hmm?” Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder and met his penetrating stare.

“Don’t make friends with someone who’ll only fuck you over.”

She settled the cup back in its saucer before peering up at him. “Trust me, I’m in full agreement with you there.”

He made a sound halfway between a snort and a grunt. “Then why the hell are you hanging around with a thief?”

“Hey, you’re the one who dragged me here.”

His eyes narrowed and she puffed out a sigh. So much for cracking through his ice with a little breezy humor. “Dash and I have a…complicated relationship.”

Relationship
? The word spun in Mara’s head, mocking her. It was too pretty a name for what they shared. She refocused on Jerrick and realized he was watching her intently. Patiently. “Maybe I should start from the beginning.”

“Good idea.” Jerrick’s rich baritone came with a heaping side dish of sarcasm.

The server returned with utensils and scribbled their orders on his touchpad. Once he scurried off, Mara made short work laying out the story of her and Dash’s predicament, filling in the most pertinent blanks before their morning repasts arrived.

“So that’s why he returned for the rune.” Jerrick didn’t seem much interested in the fluffy eggs piled on his plate and instead stared at her.

She, on the other hand, was starving. All this talk of Dash was stimulating her appetite. Looking to appease her complaining stomach and get her mind on more productive thoughts, she nibbled on a corner of the yummy, toasted nut bread. “Um, yeah.” She covered her lips, self-conscious about talking around a mouthful of food.

A little spark of vengeance twinkled in Jerrick’s eyes. “And that thing around his neck really zapped him?” He’d seemed particularly intrigued in that part of the story—to the point of cracking a wide grin.

“Yep, but the collar’s under control now. No more of that nonsense.”

“Pity.”

She rolled her eyes before taking another bite of the toast. “You’re kind of bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”