Something flickered in his gaze. He put his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself up, grabbing his crutch as he did so. “How much walking until you’re happy?”
Van stood on the porch. He didn’t want to think about anything but walking. One foot in front of the other. And he would do it until Lisa was satisfied. Then he was going into his office, shutting the door, and working on his accent until it was time to get ready for Pandora’s housewarming party. And if his accent magically righted itself before it was time to get ready, he’d play solitaire. Or start tweeting. Or watch cat videos.
Anything to be done with today’s therapy.
He was about to get the walking underway when the door behind him opened and Lisa came out. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if she was going to keep up with the questions while he exercised, but she was no longer carrying her notebook. “I know how to walk.”
She crossed her arms. “So let’s see.”
He started forward, more to put space between them than anything else.
“Nope.”
He stopped. “I am walking wrong?”
She came side by side with him. “You’re using the crutch.”
“Because I must.”
“Not for therapy to work. Remember the old stationary bike? You need to start bending your knee. It will hurt, but it will help work the venom out quicker. And that means you’ll heal faster.”
“I am wearing a brace.”
“And yet, I know you can bend if you want to. You did it in the kitchen when you tried to help me up.”
He stifled the urge to roll his eyes. “That hurt as much as it did because I was fighting against the brace.”
She pursed her lips. They were full and pouty and only inches away, making it difficult for him to look at anything else. “I’m pretty sure that brace is adjustable. Let me check.”
She crouched at his side to examine the brace.
He looked down. And straight into the valley of her cleavage. Her skin was pale and lightly freckled. And looked very, very soft. A deep, guttural sound left his throat before he could stop it.
She looked up. “What?”
He jerked his head up to stare into the woods. “Nothing.”
“I heard something.”
“Clearing my throat.” He kept his eyes straight ahead as she went back to work. He felt a small tug on the brace.
“There.” She stood up. “I adjusted the little stabilizer knob. It was turned all the way up.” She held her hand out.
He looked at her palm. “What?”
“Crutch, please.”
“And if I fall, you think you can get me upright again? All…” He gave her a hard once-over. “Hundred and ten pounds of you?”
“You’re not going to fall.” She put her hand on the crutch and leaned in. “And my weight is my business, but if it makes you feel better, I weigh a hundred and thirty. Say anything about it, and that fall might happen sooner than you think.”
He smiled at her feistiness, unable to help himself. “Threats, eh? Now that is how to get a Russian to respond.” He handed her the crutch. This was going to be extraordinarily painful, but he could manage.
“We Irish are a stubborn lot.” An odd look came over her face as she stepped out of his way.
He didn’t give it much thought, because it was time to move. He put a little weight on his injured leg. Pain twisted around his joint and tightened his muscles, causing him to curse under his breath.
“I don’t understand Russian, but that’s probably for the best.” She winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry it’s so painful. I promise it gets better.”
He limped forward, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of electrified nerves. The venom felt like fire, and not the good kind. It burned with every step, until the edges of his vision started to dim. He grabbed the hand railing and leaned against it to catch his breath.
Lisa raced to his side. “You did great. Wow, you walked the whole way to the end. That was amazing. That’s enough for now. Here.” She stuck his crutch under his arm. “I’m going to tighten up the stabilizer again, okay?”
He nodded. Her perfume teased his nose with its sweet, earthy smell. Maybe catching his breath wasn’t such a good idea.
She crouched down like she had before.
This time, he didn’t look at the woods. Instead, he very subtly shifted his gaze toward her and allowed himself to enjoy just how pretty she was.
Even better, though, was how beautiful she was inside. As a person. She was pushy and stubborn and unafraid. In that way, she reminded him of Pandora a little. But he’d never wanted to kiss Pandora.
He lurched a little as that thought filled his brain.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Nyet.” He did not want to kiss Lisa.
Did he?
She stood. “Okay, you’re stiff again.”
He stared at her. “What?”
Her cheeks went pink, and she became suddenly preoccupied with getting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, the brace is tightened. I, uh, I need to go record today in my workbook. You want help getting inside?”
“Nyet. No.”
“Great. Good. I’ll, um, okay. Later.” She disappeared into the house.
He closed his eyes and stood right where he was, letting the cold air wash over him. Something his father used to say ran through his head. The appetite comes with eating.
Van hadn’t had the slightest desire to be involved with a woman. And now he was thinking about kissing Lisa.
Was it just her nearness? Because she was smart and pretty and interesting? Or because he was lonely? And pathetic?
She was probably only being nice to him because it was her job. He was injured too, which could make her feel sorry for him.
He opened his eyes, his jaw clenched tight. He was no one’s pity case. She’d no doubt laugh if she knew what was going through his head right now. Well, that was done with.
He wheeled around and went into the house, then straight to his office, calling Grom to join him. The dog seemed to know where Van was going and ran ahead into the office to stand on the bed Van kept in there for him.
“Good dog,” Van said as he shut the office door.
Grom turned around three times before flopping down with a sigh.
Van nodded. “You and me both.”
He eased into his big leather chair, leg outstretched to the side. His knee ached worse than it had in days, but deep down, he felt a small sense of accomplishment at walking as far as he had without the crutch.
But then, he’d never doubted his ability to recover. He just hadn’t planned on being forced to do it this soon.
Whatever. Pain was only weakness leaving the body.
He turned on his computer and fired up the program he’d been using.
A woman’s perfect American voice trilled out of the speakers. “I would like an orange soda.”
Van repeated. “I would like an orange soda.”
“This soda tastes good.”
He echoed the sentence back. “This soda tastes good.”
But soda wasn’t even close to what he really wanted a taste of.
Monalisa stood in the middle of the guest room, which was more clearly Van’s than ever before. His smoky scent lingered, and now that she’d gotten to know him a little, she could picture him here. Sitting in the reading nook with Grom at his feet, lounging on the bed watching fight videos, taking long hot, showers…
She shook her head and remembered she was here to do one thing and one thing only. Get him to agree to the rematch.
But knowing that and doing it were two very different things. The more she became acquainted with Van, the more she felt for him. And the more she liked him.
She hadn’t counted on that at all.
Being in such close proximity didn’t help either. She’d always had her reasons for avoiding the fighters, but being around Van was knocking those reasons down. He wasn’t rem
otely like what she’d thought he’d be. Sure, he was gruff and sort of cranky, but the man was in a lot of pain. And he was dealing with the loss of his career.
You couldn’t expect someone in that situation to be the picture of cheerfulness. If anyone understood that, it was her. She knew better than most how hard breaks could crush your spirit. Not that she considered herself crushed, but it was difficult some days to find the energy to keep fighting for what she wanted. Giving up and giving in were easy. Maintaining the courage to face down your fears, that took some doing.
And maybe that understanding of what Van was going through was part of why she was starting to feel something for him. It wasn’t necessarily that she was attracted to him, although he was attractive in his own way. If you liked big, fit guys who loved animals and books and felt their purpose in life was to protect those they loved. It was just that he was so much more than what she’d thought a fighter would be.
He was smart. Funny. And had a smile that could light up a room—as cliché as that sounded. She had to wonder too, if being kept away from the world for so long by her father had resulted in a heightened curiosity about the opposite sex.
After all, Van was the first man she’d spent time with who wasn’t her father or one of his underlings. And more than that, he was the first man she’d ever been alone with. Could that be making her feel something? She certainly hadn’t expected to like the guy. Especially when he represented something she didn’t really understand. Fighting.
Van had already told her that fighting was so much a part of him that it was like breathing. Was that really so much different than who she was? After all, she’d been fighting for her independence since she turned eighteen. She thought about it for a long moment.
Yes, they were very different. Van wasn’t just a fighter, he was a protector. And she? She was a destroyer. Her gifts gave her the ability to do one thing with great power. To persuade, with the end result being complete ruination. Her kind had been the destroyers of men since there had been light and darkness in the world. And it was something her father loved to exploit.
If only she’d been born powerless, her life would be a very different one.
Monalisa dropped her head and stared at her feet. What was she doing here, besides the obvious? Yes, she was here to get Van to do her father’s will. And beyond that, she was here to get the coin that would give her freedom. But this mission, this job her father had given her, it was one more chip out of the crumbling wall of her life. One more small effort on her father’s part to tear her down and keep her for himself.
She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide. She had no real means of escape. Once again, she was faced with the truth that she had no options. She either did what her father wanted, or she suffered the consequences. She glanced toward the first floor. Maybe she should just go downstairs and tell Van the truth. She’d thought about it once before. Maybe if she explained everything, really explained, he would give in and agree to the rematch. She’d promise him anything to help her.
Well, not anything. Or…maybe she would. But Van didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d demand such a high price from a desperate woman.
But then again, maybe he would send her home to her father to deliver the message that Padraig’s precious rematch was never going to happen.
She sighed. This was her life. A series of difficult decisions capped off with this, the granddaddy of them all. She thought some more about going downstairs and talking to Van. Who knew? Maybe he’d come up with a solution. That thought gave her a small glimmer of hope, even though she knew there was no real solution outside of the obvious one.
Her feet started moving before she could rethink it. She went downstairs slowly but deliberately. She thought she’d heard Van’s office door close earlier, so she went in that direction. It was shut, but she could hear him talking to someone. Was he on the phone?
She went a little closer and listened. She heard a woman’s voice, then him. He seemed to be repeating the woman over and over. What was he doing? The sentences didn’t make a lot of sense. Then she realized that with each word he spoke, his accent diminished. Like he was deliberately trying to sound more American. How odd. She didn’t think he was difficult to understand. In fact, his Russian accent was sort of charming.
Maybe even a little bit sexy.
Van was such an interesting person. And she realized that despite what she’d learned about him so far, he was still an onion with many layers to be peeled. It intrigued her that someone with his level of success, fame, and fortune would continue striving to better himself. It made her like him even more. And although she didn’t think he needed to do anything about his cute accent, he clearly thought he did.
She smiled and shook her head. A guy like that had to be willing to help her, right? She reached out to knock on the door, but her cell phone vibrated in her back pocket.
She pulled it out and checked the screen. Her father was calling. She was supposed to have called him when she got in last night but, like always, he was the last person she wanted to talk too.
Avoiding him would only make things worse, something she’d learned the hard way.
She backed away from the door as she tapped the screen to answer, keeping her voice down until she put a little more distance between herself and Van’s office. “Yes?”
“You were supposed to email or text me with an update. I’ve gotten nothing. What’s going on?”
She climbed the stairs to the bedroom. “What’s going on is I’m here and I’m doing the job I was sent to do.”
“Good. How’s it going?”
“You know I’ve barely been here a day, right?”
“More than enough time to bring him under the sway of your gifts.”
She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth until the urge to hang up passed. “You want him to fight, then his heart really needs to be in it, not just his head and not just for magical reasons. I’m working on it.”
“See that you do. The clock is ticking.”
“I’m aware.”
“Don’t be afraid to use your feminine wiles.”
“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you’re implying.”
“Then you’re wasting a lot of natural resources.”
“How are you actually my father?”
“I guess you were just born lucky.” Cackling, he killed the call.
She stuffed the phone back into her pocket, anger coursing through her. There was no escaping the man and his control of her. She walked to the French doors, opened them, and went out onto the bedroom’s balcony to breathe in the cold air.
It was beautiful here, and so different than Vegas. She liked the hilliness, the tall, majestic pines, and the smell of wood smoke in the crisp air. Even though the sun shone down on her, it didn’t have the same oppressive feeling as it did in the desert.
She tipped her head up, letting the rays warm her face. It was nice, and for a moment, she forgot everything else.
But just for a moment. Because her life was impossible to ignore for long. What she would have loved more than anything was to shift into her supernatural form and disappear into the wilderness. In that form, she was the living embodiment of energy. She was light.
Beaming, pulsating light, with the power to draw men into oblivion. She could avoid the darker side of her nature very easily, unless, of course, her father was forcing her to use it.
Which brought her right back to the task she was here to do. With a sigh, she went back inside to go over her notes. She had a few hours until they had to leave for the housewarming party.
It would be nice to be around people who didn’t know who her father was. People who weren’t afraid of her or trying to win her favor. For once in her life, she could be a regular person. Wow, what would that be like?
She had no idea. But it would be fun to find out.
She settled on the bed with her laptop to dig into her work, but her gaze drifted toward the closet. What wa
s she going to wear tonight?
On one hand, she wanted to disappear into the crowd, which ought to be easy enough since she wouldn’t know anyone there. But on the other hand, she wanted to make Van take a second look. Not because her father had told her to use her feminine wiles, and not because her mother loved to tell her that men could be brought to heel with a dazzling smile and a few inches of cleavage, but because…she just did.
She didn’t want to think too much about what that might mean, but there it was. She wanted Van’s attention. At least a little of it. At least enough to know what it felt like to be noticed.
She pushed her laptop to the side and padded over to the closet to look through the few things she’d brought. Her hand went to the dress her mother had secreted away in her bag. But no, there was no way that would be the right thing to wear. Unfortunately, the dress she’d packed was a simple navy day dress, and not all that snazzy.
She tried on the slim black skirt and ivory blouse she’d brought. She looked nice, but very secretarial. She swapped the skirt for jeans. That was a possibility. Then she tried on her black trousers. Very professional. And very boring. And not the right look, unless she planned to wait waiting tables somewhere in town.
Jeans again, this time with one of her sweaters. That looked nice.
Nice was the kiss of death, wasn’t it? What about this outfit was going to make anyone look twice? She could be going shopping at the mall or running errands.
Tonight was a special event. A party.
Her gaze returned to the little black dress.
Van frowned at the brace on his leg. There was no way he was going to put that wretched thing on over any of his suit pants. Those suits cost too much to be mangled by that evil contraption. Instead, he settled for a dark pair of jeans with a crisp white shirt and a nice sport coat. It was still a good look. Not as dressy as he would have liked for Pandora’s party, but she would understand.
Stupid brace.
He put on one of his gold watches, his dragon-self enjoying the feel of the valuable metal against his skin. Gold was a precious thing. Especially to a dragon. A thing to be hoarded, along with other fine metals and gems. And hoards had to be protected for times of need. Which was why Lisa wasn’t allowed to go downstairs. No one was.
The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7) Page 6
