Sleeping Beauty and the Demon

by Marina Myles

  “As I said, I can’t dig up any more dirt on Drago myself. But maybe you can.” he said.

  Rose took a sip of the steaming drink. The scalding liquid burned her tongue and she started to choke. Tears streamed down her face. An alarmed Richard tried to pat her on the back.

  Gasping for air, Rose unclasped her cameo and unfastened the first two buttons of her blouse. When she finally stopped choking, she sat back in her chair and accepted a handkerchief from Richard.

  “Good God,” he said. “That scared me.” As he watched her dab her eyes, his gaze fell on the amulet visible from her opened blouse. His eyes widened. “Christ, Rose! Do you know anything about that necklace you’re wearing?”

  She put a hand to the stone and traced its familiar outline. “It was a gift.”

  “From Dragomir Starkov, I presume,” he asked.

  She looked away, still trying to catch her breath.

  “Cut the malarkey, Rose.”

  She’d be smart to play dumb. “I don’t remember. I got so many gifts for my birthday.”

  Richard planted himself on top of the desk. Concern shadowed his face. “You need to take that necklace off at once.”

  “No.” Panic stung Rose’s already raw throat.

  “But you’re wearing the cursed Amulet of Tousret!”

  “I know all about its history.”

  “Then why the hell are you wearing it?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated, my ass. I mean my foot.” Richard paused. “Damn it. I’m still not used to working with a woman.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Anyway,” he went on in a hurry, “I’m assuming Starkov gave you the amulet to manipulate you.”

  “How do you know about the amulet anyway?”

  “You can tell by the artifacts in my office that I’m interested in rare objects. While I was doing research for an article on cursed jewelry, I came across the story of the amulet. Do you know who owned it originally?”

  “Yes,” she said. “An Egyptian princess.”

  He seemed impressed. “What you may not know is that the amulet was unearthed from the sands of Egypt by an archeologist named Sir Harris Farrington. Farrington gave the necklace to his daughter. Thank God he also discovered the bracelet of Amenhotep. Do you know about the bracelet?”

  Rose nodded.

  Richard went on. “Luckily, the archeologist’s daughter survived the curse. Through the years, the bracelet was placed in the British Museum, where it was eventually stolen. Later it was rumored that the amulet and the bracelet were reunited only to be purchased by a private collector. Now I know that that collector was Starkov.”

  Rose squirmed in her seat.

  “If I had to guess,” Richard said, “he used the amulet to spellbind you. You’d better be careful.”

  “What if Drago has the bracelet?” Rose asked. “Won’t it counteract the amulet’s prophecy?”

  Richard shrugged. “So the legend goes, but if I were you, I wouldn’t count on it.”

  She stood up. “Why are we talking such rubbish? I’m sure the amulet isn’t cursed.”

  “Then you’ll have no problem taking it off,” he said slyly.

  She looked nervously at her feet.

  “What kind of hold does this man have over you?”

  A very powerful one.

  “Listen. I may not be able to compete with a magician’s hypnotic spell, but knowledge is power, right?” Richard said. “Dragomir Starkov came to New York City three years ago and started to work in the Bowery at Coney Island.”

  Rose turned her nose up the way she had when Drago told her about his former place of employment.

  “I know. The Bowery is a stink hole, but I want you to accompany me to the sideshow tent Drago performed in years ago. I’d like you to meet Felix Huxtable, the fellow who ran it then and now swears Drago enacted real magic. Says he caught Drago commanding an old Romanian coin when he didn’t know he was being watched. This coin flashes glimpses of the past, like a pictograph.”

  The coin. She’d seen it in Drago’s apartment along with the bracelet.

  “No one can enact real magic,” Rose said in Drago’s defense. “I say Huxtable is a drunkard. Or maybe his eyes played tricks on him in the dingy shadows of the Bowery.”

  Richard shot her a cold look. “All I know is that if you want to continue working here, you’ll accompany me to the Bowery on Saturday night and talk to this sideshow mountebank yourself.”

  Richard stormed out of the office and Rose felt like throwing a typewriter at his head. Part of her didn’t want to know any more dark facts about Drago. But of course, part of her did. That’s why she’d agreed to go with Richard to the Bowery just now. Although she knew Drago was capable of performing genuine magic—and that he’d come to New York three years ago after envisioning her Aunt Morvina’s return here—how could she explain that to Richard?

  Bellum saw journalism as a cut-and-dried way to inform the public. What was his motto again? Oh, yes. No stone left unturned means no story left untold.

  It was essential that she learn everything she could about Drago so that she could protect his remaining secrets from Richard and the rest of the world. So, in turn, he could protect her from Morvina.

  The rest of Rose’s workday lagged terribly.

  Finally, the time arrived for her to keep her midnight rendezvous with Drago at the Sunshine Theater. That night, the taxi he’d sent round for her arrived at the Marconi brownstone. Under the shroud of tattered clouds, Rose managed to steal out of the sleeping household. Her nerves tingled.

  A silver moon hung high in the sky as she made her way to the exterior stage door. This time the alley appeared even more ominous because she was alone.

  She knocked. Her heart wormed its way up to her throat. A vision flashed before her—a vision of her and Drago making love. She hardly had time to touch her flushed cheeks when Drago opened the door and allowed her entry. Rose looked at him. All her misgivings melted away. He was handsome enough to spin scalding fire through her. And when he gazed at her with those blue-green eyes, he made her feel alive—as if she hadn’t lived a day until she met him.

  Quickly, he gathered her in his arms for a hot kiss. Rose clung to him as if it were their last embrace. As she kissed him back with equal fervor, she smiled as the whiskers of his thin mustache tickled her face. And as his scent filled her with a palpable desire, she wanted to tell him that she was ready to make love.

  Still, shouldn’t Drago take the lead in this forbidden encounter?

  When he guided her into the main auditorium, the empty stage loomed before them at the end of the sweeping aisle. The sight caused the hair on Rose’s arms to stand on end.

  “Is anybody here?” she whispered in a quiver.

  “We’re completely alone.” He gave her a wry smile. “Go ahead. Yell if you like.”

  “Hello!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Smiling in spite of herself, she said, “Your turn.”

  He let go of her hand. Raising his arms to shoulder-height, Drago spun in circles. “I love this woman!”

  She laughed. The sound of his booming voice made her relax a bit. “Do you have a key to the theater?”

  He nodded. “I enjoy perfecting my illusions here late at night.”

  His cyan eyes glittered at her while his dark skin glowed in the gaslight. His looks and his sensuality surpassed Rose’s wildest desires. It felt amoral to be here alone with him, but it also felt right.

  “I’d love to watch you practice your magic sometime,” she said softly.

  “I have a better idea.” He drew her close. “Perhaps you’d like to be my new assistant.”

  “Assistant? What about Katherine?”

  Drago frowned. “I fired her.”

  “Why?”

  “As my shows get more and more sophisticated, I need someone I can trust. Tonight Katherine questioned one of my tricks. She’s never done that before.”

 
“She doesn’t know about your genuine abilities?” Rose asked.

  “No. But I’m afraid she’s getting dangerously close to finding out.”

  Rose drew her brows together. “I don’t know, Drago. I just got my dream job at the newspaper.”

  He stepped back. “I don’t doubt your writing talents, Rose. And I commend you for your ambition. But your boss is a bastard.”

  “All the more reason to prove myself.”

  “An admirable goal, I admit. But I’ve said it before: this Richard Bellum is a thorn in my side.”

  “He wants me to give him information about you. He said my job depends on it.”

  “He’s holding that over your head?” Drago thundered. A moment later, his sour expression softened. “I know you won’t divulge anything scandalous about me because you promised not to.”

  “Even if people thought you were a warlock, or whatever you call yourself,” she said, “they wouldn’t know how to respond.”

  “I know how they’d respond,” he said darkly. “They’d have me arrested or killed.”

  Rose cringed at the thought. She was under the spell of the amulet and being without him wasn’t a viable possibility.

  “What do you think about being my assistant?” He offered her a grin. “Keep your position at the paper if you like and work with me at night.”

  She studied his face. He never smiled fully, only quirked his lips in a sideways tug. But those mystifying grins made her knees wobble. “Do I have time to think about it?”

  “I fired Katherine, remember? I need you.”

  When she continued to hesitate, he said, “Rose. I’ve been offered full billing at the Herndon Hippodrome.”

  “The Hippodrome?”

  “Yes.”

  Drago was on his way to becoming the greatest magician who ever lived. But if the rest of the world discovered his sinister secret, his career would be ruined and he wouldn’t be able to protect her from Morvina.

  She supposed she could maintain both jobs, like he’d suggested, as long as she delayed Richard’s exposé by pretending to be digging up dirt on Drago.

  “Consider me hired,” she said.

  “Let me show you how much I appreciate it,” Drago purred.

  Prickles of delight raced over her as he flicked his tongue along her neck. And when a trail of heat spiraled up her spine, she nearly exploded with lust. “I’m ready to be yours, Drago.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked in a husky tone.

  She remembered how it felt to have his hard body lying on top of hers. And she desperately wanted to experience it again. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  His heart beat anxiously against her chest. When she pulled away, he was grinning again. “Then tonight I’ll be the luckiest man on earth.”

  Slowly, Drago inclined his head and brought his lips to hers. Sweeping his tongue forward, he prompted her mouth open with it. The hot contact escalated Rose’s excitement. And while their tongues collided, soft moans of pleasure floated out from somewhere deep inside her. Here she was with a man who intrigued, baffled, and comforted her, all at the same time. She knew she’d never meet anyone else remotely like him.

  “I love you,” he whispered as his fingers got lost in her hair. Knocking her hairpins loose, he tugged at her curls until her mane slipped down in heavy locks. He took a tiny step back. “God almighty. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  Rose barely registered the compliment. She was too busy trying to memorize everything about Drago—from the spectacular hue of his eyes to how his arousal felt against her skirt. Her soul stirred in his embrace and if God ever chose to part them, at least she would have these things to remember him by.

  “Please,” she said. “Make love to me now.”

  “Come with me,” he commanded.

  Grasping her hand, he led her backstage. They ascended a spiral staircase which took them up to the balcony level of the theater. Drago guided her along a shadowed corridor and opened a door at its very end.

  Rose stared into a plush box. Draped in green and gold curtains, the small room boasted a pair of high-backed silk chairs and a long damask-covered bench. She surmised that this was the most expensive box in the theater.

  “It’s lovely,” she murmured as they stepped inside.

  “Only the best for you.” Drago drew the curtains that overlooked the stage, then twisted a gas sconce up to a low glow. Without saying another word, he took her hands, lifted them above her head, and pinned her against the wall. Rose’s eyes fluttered shut as his mouth crushed hers. She thrust the top half of her body forward when his free hand dropped from her face to the fullness of her bosom.

  “Open your eyes, Rose,” he whispered against her lips, “I want you to really look at me.”

  Their stares locked for an intense moment before he kissed her again—wildly, deeply. The way it provoked her stripped away the last shred of reserve she had. Her tongue tangled with his in a kiss that drew out a groan from Drago and whetted her hunger for him.

  Drago was wonderfully complex, strong, and unyielding, and she wanted him to be the first man she gave herself to. The only man.

  Standing this close to him, Rose realized she was almost as tall as he was. In school, she’d always towered over most boys—and her height had stolen some of her confidence away. But Drago didn’t seem to mind it. His hips moved against hers and when his rock-hard arousal pressed closer, heat rolled through her with the force of a bonfire.

  Cheeks flushed, she returned his hot, breathless kisses. Suddenly, she had the urge to feel his sex. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was too tight.

  “Yes,” Drago broke contact with her mouth. As if he read her mind, he said, “Touch me.”

  He released her hands from over her head. Then he directed one to his groin. “There.” With his hand covering hers, he showed her how to massage his shaft through the fabric of his trousers. Thick and erect, his penis became even stiffer. In fact, it felt like a cement pole against her palm.

  “God, yes,” he moaned.

  Rich and low, his voice excited her.

  Next, Drago rocked into Rose and found her breast again. Although she was inexperienced, she began to move in tune with his body, reacting to the way he caressed her curves.

  He seemed to enjoy fondling her through her dress, until an impatient growl escaped his throat. Quickly, he peeled off her jacket and unhooked the tiny buttons of her blouse. Left in nothing but her corset and skirt, Rose gave a little cry as he dipped a hand inside the corset’s boning and searched for her nipple. Bowing his head, Drago lapped at it in scalding circles.

  She never knew anything could feel so amazing.

  When Drago lifted the bulk of her breast higher, then took its bud into his mouth, she inhaled sharply. To her delight, he sucked it until moisture saturated her undergarments. She was dying for him to touch her there. She said breathlessly, “I’m so wet.”

  Rose’s admission fueled Drago’s desire even more. “Christ,” he said. “Let me feel you.”

  His hand found its way under her skirt. Hooking a finger around the edge of her panties, he pulled them aside. Then, looking up at her with a lustful expression, he spread her sex apart and located her hidden pearl. His fingers, slick with her wetness, stroked her as gracefully as a delicate doe moves through the forest.

  Rose’s core was so sensitive and Drago’s fingers were so experienced and manly that she couldn’t help but whimper like a child. As he dipped his fingers in and out of her, she pressed against them. But when he encountered her female barrier, he stopped.

  “Should I break your chastity, Rose?”

  “Yes,” she pleaded hoarsely.

  He did. Searing pain raked her body at first, but then pleasure replaced it. She reached for his shaft again. This time Drago heaved against her hand while her petals swelled around his fingers. A pressure and a rhythm built like a wave raging toward the shore. Finally, her
clitoris beat and throbbed.

  “My God,” she whispered when the intense vibration stopped. “Did you feel that?”

  “It was your first climax, my darling. But it won’t be your last.”

  Excitement rained to every part of her body as he guided her to the damask bench. Once he’d splayed her across the bench’s length, he gazed down at her as if she were a nymph offering herself to the Gods. Strangely, that’s what she felt like. She was willing to do anything Drago suggested and do it wholeheartedly. Not only did she sympathize with his lonely existence, she related to it. It was as if neither of them had ever belonged to anyone in particular, and now they’d found one another.

  Drago was dressed in a loose linen shirt and dark trousers. Rose’s heart galloped as he yanked his shirt out of his beltline and unbuttoned it to reveal the sight she’d beheld in his bedroom. Bulging biceps. An abdomen cut with muscle upon muscle. And a small, concave belly button that topped a remarkable line of tendons that streamlined into his trousers.

  Could anything be more delicious?

  As he leaned one hand on the edge of the bench, he removed his pants and undergarments. That’s when Rose glimpsed his jutting erection for the first time. Gulping, she watched his thick, vein-wrapped penis grow longer, in the moment. The tip of it—which was covered in smooth foreskin—glimmered in the gaslight.

  Smiling, he dropped forward on both hands. And while his massive forearms framed Rose’s head, she received a whiff of his scent. He smelled of fresh soap and spice—like the most delectable man on earth.

  “I’m going to take you slowly,” he whispered against her collarbone. “So that we can revel in every minute.”

  She clasped his head in her hands and directed him to look up at her. Their eyes locked. Gliding her hands through his hair, she smiled, too. Several strands fell loose over one eye, free of hair tonic and stiff balms. Rose preferred it this way. The casual style made him far less fearsome and more boyish.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered.

  Drago dropped his stare to her bare breasts. As his tongue slid past his full lips, it led the way to her nipples. He spent a long time swirling them into sharp peaks. The sensation built her passion even more. Squeaking out moans of ecstasy, Rose noticed that Drago’s cock was still as hard as stone.