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Dragon's Curse (Harlequin Nocturne)

Page 3

by Lynn, Denise


  If he simply announced that Nathan hadn’t died, his brother and sister-in-law wouldn’t believe him. They were positive their magical dragon had killed the wizard.

  The beast they’d conjured had flown away with the wizard in tow, and returned empty-handed, save a wooden cube it had dropped at Alexia’s feet.

  No matter how gruesome it might have been for the others, he wished the beast had killed the wizard right before their eyes. At least then there would be no doubt of the family’s safety. As it was now, too much of Braeden’s certainty was based on assumption. It seemed as if only he was doubtful of their success.

  Cam stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders, hoping to ease some of the tension. It had been a long flight home from Mirabilus, even on the family’s private jet.

  Since his aunt had decided to return to the Lair with him, his preferred method of travel would have been problematic. He wasn’t ready to let Danielle Drake know about his beast.

  It wasn’t that she’d be horrified—far from it. She’d probably be thrilled. And then she would want to closely study him under her mental magnifying glass. Putting it in a vernacular his younger brother, Sean, would employ—that would just suck.

  Someday he’d have to work on explaining his extra ability to his family. But for right now, soaking up the sunshine was of greater importance.

  “Cam.” Sean’s voice cut into the quiet.

  With a groan, Cameron slid his legs off the desk then tapped the intercom button on the phone. “What do you want?”

  “Your two o’clock is pulling up in the driveway.”

  Cam glanced out the window. A nondescript white panel van came to a stop in the circular entrance. But the woman who jumped out of the driver’s side was anything but drab.

  Her dark hair barely brushed the top of her shoulders. The navy blue suit fit her curves like a glove. Jacket just the right length, skirt hit just above the knee. The black, low-heeled pumps shined as if they’d just been taken out of the shoe box.

  Her job application had raised his suspicions, which were now confirmed by her too-perfect textbook appearance. He’d already interviewed nearly fifty people for various management positions and not one of them had been dressed for Wall Street. Apparently, whoever instructed her on professional dress had used an outdated manual.

  While he wasn’t surprised to see she sported a white blouse beneath the jacket, he had expected some sort of faux tie—in red or maybe black. But not even a scarf covered the flesh beneath the open buttons of her blouse. His lips quirked at the flagrant display of rebellion against her mentor.

  At his lengthy silence, Sean asked, “You want me to take it?”

  Cam stared harder at the woman. She was somehow familiar, but from this distance, without the benefit of scent, he couldn’t discern why, or from where. He shook his head and finally answered his brother, “No, I’ve got it. Have Jennie send her in.”

  Certain their new receptionist would point the woman in the right direction, Cam pulled a folder out of his top desk drawer.

  Cam had interviewed a dozen candidates for this position before his trip to Mirabilus. Ariel Johnson was the first of three who were scheduled for this week.

  She claimed to be a professional gardener. Her references all checked out—too well, in Cam’s opinion. But unless the woman had a thing for cloying aftershave, the person who’d handled her application had been a man.

  Innate curiosity had been the only reason he’d arranged an interview. Too much had happened at Mirabilus of late for him not to be suspicious of every little thing. He wanted to see if she was up to something.

  While it could be possible that he was wrong, he doubted it. According to her application, she was single, which, of course, didn’t necessarily mean she lived alone. Still, her references were too glowing—too over the top to be believed.

  A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He closed the folder, then crossed toward the door.

  Cam paused and took a deep breath. As he opened the door her scent wafted through his senses. Familiar smells raced through him, bringing a memory of fear and shock laced with denied lust to the fore.

  He narrowed his eyes. She was familiar all right. This was the woman who’d been in the chamber at Mirabilus. She’d run like a frightened rabbit when he’d given her the chance.

  And now she came willingly to the Lair?

  In the guise of an overdressed and overqualified gardener?

  She didn’t flinch under his unwavering stare. Instead, she returned his look and smiled.

  Smiled.

  Whatever she was up to involved either a touch of insanity, or more bravado than any six mortals possessed.

  If she was mortal. But he sensed nothing otherworldly, or magic.

  “Mr. Drake?”

  The soft, steady tone of her voice wisped against his ears before flitting across his mind. Discovering what she was up to suddenly seemed more than just a lark, it had become a priority.

  He’d been unable to protect his wife. A tragedy that he would not permit to happen again. If this woman worked for the Learneds, she was a danger to his family. And he would do everything, sacrifice anything, to ensure their safety. But first he had to be sure of her involvement.

  Cam eased the scowl from his face and held the door open, motioning toward his desk. “Ms. Johnson, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”

  She walked by him, insisting, “Ariel, please.”

  Ariel. He rolled his eyes, doubting if she’d prove to be an angel of healing, or new beginnings, as her name implied. He kept the thought to himself. Instead, he sat down behind his desk, facing her across the distance.

  Ariel’s stomach did a roller-coaster nosedive when he looked at her. He was…striking…to say the least. Not overtly gorgeous in a model’s way. The strands of silver shimmering at the temples of his dark, sandy-blond hair lent an air of authority, certainty—as if he’d been around and knew exactly what he was doing.

  She wondered if that air carried over into his personal life. A warmth slid over her cheeks at the outrageous thought.

  Ariel closed her eyes. What was she doing? She was supposed to be here for a job interview, not checking out the would-be boss.

  Yet, when she opened her eyes again, her gaze fastened instantly on his mouth and a full lower lip that was designed for kissing her senseless.

  To hide the heat now flaring from her cheeks to her chest, she glanced around the room.

  She’d been in homes less extravagant than this office—her home for one. From the thick midnight-blue carpet that looked more like velvet than floor covering, to the artwork hanging on the walls. Oils that appeared to be of such good quality that she wondered if they were originals. The ornate wooden frames alone were probably worth more than all her possessions added together.

  Slowly turning her attention back to Mr. Drake, her gaze fell on a statue in the corner—an amethyst dragon. Her breathing hitched. The room swam around her. She swore she could feel the beast’s warm breath rush across her cheek.

  Like being outside in the midst of a gathering lightning storm, her skin tingled from the discharged energy. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose in anticipation of being struck by a bolt of lightning.

  She’d dreamed of nothing except dragons since the night she’d broken into Mirabilus. Nightmares that had her bolting awake with a scream on her lips and dreams that had left her strangely wanting.
r />   To keep from racing out of his office and away from Dragon’s Lair, she stared at Mr. Drake, trying to focus her thoughts on something other than the terror clawing at her chest.

  His brilliant blue eyes caught and held her attention. Mesmerized by his gaze, she relaxed as a languid warmth flooded her veins, chasing away the fear. The flush of embarrassment mingled with desire caused her to quickly glance away.

  Wasn’t she already in enough danger? She didn’t need to add more.

  Cam studied her closely. For the most part, she held his gaze, glancing away now and then to look around the room. But for a second or two he’d seen her blush before looking away to hide the telltale flush.

  He sensed immediately what had occupied her mind to cause such a reaction. He didn’t need to delve into her thoughts. Even beneath the floral-based perfume she wore, he could smell the change in her chemistry. The flood of pheromones into the air acted like a mating call.

  A call that threatened to prod his beast from self-imposed slumber. His stomach tightened in response. Cam swallowed, reining in his own rising desires.

  He focused instead on the would-be criminal seated across the desk. Most humans were incapable of producing a chemical reaction intentionally. Was she one of the few who could control another person’s response to her? Did she realize the danger inherent in playing with inhuman beasts?

  Unable to detect that level of subterfuge lurking in her depths, he doubted if she had any control over her desires. And while he did sense an ulterior motive for being here, he wasn’t able to sense any acknowledgment of who—or what—he was.

  How could she? She hadn’t seen him in human form—he’d doused the lights before she could have caught anything more than the briefest glimpse. And there was no way she’d recognize his voice. He’d spoken only a few words, right after shifting from a dragon. His tone would have still held the lingering rumble of the beast. It would be unrecognizable to her.

  So, this interview was either a huge coincidence, or she’d been sent here.

  Cam didn’t believe in coincidences.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, Ariel, why gardening?”

  “I’ve always had a green thumb.” Her wandering attention once again landed on the amethyst dragon in the corner of his office. For the briefest second, she froze, then quickly turned back to Cam. “I like working with my hands and living things.”

  The slight tremor in her voice and the tangy scent of fear filling the room alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t been wrong—her presence here was no coincidence. The woman was lying to his face. She didn’t want this position. She just wanted inside the Lair—most likely to find the items she couldn’t locate in the workroom.

  What was so important about that box and jewelry that she’d come here? There was a significance to those items that he didn’t yet know—but he would.

  If his suspicions were right, and she was working with the Learneds, he couldn’t risk slipping into her conscious mind for answers. Not yet. Not until he knew for certain who she really was and her connection to Nathan.

  The Learneds would easily be able to detect his lingering presence in her thoughts. He didn’t want them to have any warning that he knew they were once again plotting his family’s deaths. It was imperative that he catch them unaware.

  It took less than the space of one heartbeat for him to make the decision to offer her the job. Having her at the Lair under surveillance would be safer for him and his family.

  However, it took a few more heartbeats to calm the now fully awakened beast. His heightened senses, along with her uncontrolled flare of lust, had alerted the dragon sleeping inside him. And for some odd reason, the beast found Ms. Johnson—enticing.

  The last thing he needed was to be drawn to a woman who worked with their enemy. Although, he was well aware that logic held little sway when it came to his darker desires.

  Cam tapped the folder that was still open on his desk. “I see here that you did the greenery for the convention center in—” He leaned forward, acting as if he needed to look up the name of the town and inhaled her scent slowly.

  While he wouldn’t risk intruding on her thoughts, there was no hesitation to use his other—more than human—senses.

  The smells of soap and floral shampoo did little to hide her nervousness. While her scent of fear was as tangy as a freshly peeled lemon, beneath it lay something far from bitter. He frowned to hide his surprise.

  Her nervousness hadn’t caught him off guard, but the still-lingering exotic spiced aroma of desire did. Whether Ms. Johnson was ready to admit it to herself or not, she was attracted to him on a basic level. Even though the attraction might be dangerous to both of them, it could also prove useful in the future.

  Cam leaned back against his chair and finished his sentence. “Detroit…Michigan.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “They were pleased with my work.”

  Pleased? He’d been amazed that the letter of recommendation from them hadn’t suggested Ms. Johnson be ordained. “I gathered that much from their letter.”

  She blushed and looked down at her lap. “They were a little…overwhelming with their praise, weren’t they?”

  “That depends.” Cam asked, “Is it true?”

  Ariel hated lying. She seemed to be getting better at it of late, but she still hated it. In this case, as in so many cases the past few weeks, there really wasn’t any other choice. “Most of it’s true. The manager and I were friends, so he embellished a bit.”

  From the way her pulse raced against her neck, Cam doubted if anything in the letter was true. It was more likely that the letter, the friend and her employment history were nothing more than complete fabrications.

  “Actually, I think there is a request for sainthood in here somewhere.” Cameron Drake closed the folder and slid it into his desk drawer. “Why don’t you just tell me why you want this job and what your ideas are for the resort.”

  Ariel wanted to scream that she didn’t want the job. Renalde had given her no choice. He’d sent in her application, résumé and references. All produced at his expense. It was only after the appointment was set when she’d been made aware of what had taken place and given copies of the paperwork to memorize.

  Even knowing that the family who owned Mirabilus also owned this resort, she had to proceed as ordered, praying that she didn’t run into any dragons other than the pendant Renalde wanted. Ariel glanced back at the amethyst beast in the corner and hoped there were none that lived and breathed here.

  Running into one mythical beast at Mirabilus had been enough for her. She had no desire to ever repeat the experience.

  She took a breath, folded her hands in her lap and looked at Mr. Drake. She needed to convince him she was the right person for this position.

  “I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never tackled a project this size before. But it seemed too much an interesting challenge to refuse.” Her well-practiced speech rolled easily from her lips. When in truth, she could kill what was supposed to be an indestructible ivy plant in ten days—tops. What she knew about gardening and landscaping had been learned in the past couple weeks—from between the pages of books, websites and countless gardening shows on cable.

  “So, you like challenges?”

  No. She liked it when things were predictable. She was a project manager with a background in systems. Schedules, flowcharts and to-do lists were more up her alley. She preferred to know wh
at was going to happen from one minute to the next. Ariel nodded. “Yes, I love them.”

  “Have you given any thought to the outdoor maze?”

  “Maze?” She frowned, trying not to panic. Nobody had mentioned a maze. “What maze?”

  Mr. Drake stared at her, and for a second she wondered if she’d just blown the interview. Finally, his hard features eased and he shook his head. “Maybe we didn’t mention the maze to the agency.”

  Ariel swallowed. He’d tried to set her up. Why? Had he guessed she was here under false pretenses? How? She was certain she hadn’t given him any clues.

  Mr. Renalde had warned her what would happen if she failed him this time. He had promised her that Carl’s death would fade to nothing compared to her own.

  She knew Mr. Drake was waiting for a response. She leaned forward, more to settle her rolling stomach than anything else. “If you did, they forgot to mention it to me. I would have remembered something so grand. It’s an outdoor maze you said?”

  To let him think she was visualizing the design, she closed her eyes. He didn’t need to know she was mentally scrambling to remember what she had read. “Boxwood could be an excellent choice for the border. If the parent plants are of good stock, you could propagate your own replacement plants from cuttings.”

  When he remained silent, she continued, “Yew could be another option.” She opened her eyes and shook her head. “No, that might not work. Do your guests bring their children or pets?”

  “Why?”

  “The plant is poisonous. Kids might be attracted to the berries.” Ariel snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. Thuja…white cedar would be perfect. It grows fast, stays green year round and has that holiday-evergreen scent.”

  He just kept looking at her, studying her. She wondered if he was waiting for her to make a mistake. Would he know if she did? She sat back in her chair. “Forgive my eagerness. I got carried away.”

 

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