Alluring Tales
Page 1
Alluring TALES
Awaken the Fantasy
VIVI ANNA, SYLVIA DAY,
DELILAH DEVLIN, CATHRYN FOX, MYLA JACKSON,
LISA RENEE JONES, SASHA WHITE
Contents
Lover’s Locket
Cathryn Fox
Kili’s Ice Man
Delilah Devlin
The Hottest One-Night Stand
Lisa Renee Jones
Out of the Shadows
Myla Jackson
Tempting Grace
Sasha White
A Familiar Kind of Magic
Sylvia Day
Quick Silver
Vivi Anna
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Lover’s Locket
Cathryn Fox
To Mark,
who loves me enough to accompany me to Atlanta
to hang out with two thousand other romance writers.
I love you.
One
“So…how did your date with Brian go?”
Caira glanced up from the three-tiered wedding cake she’d just finished icing and watched her best friend, Nikki, breeze in through the back entrance of her bakery.
Blue eyes wide with anticipation, Nikki rubbed her palms together and grinned. “Tell me everything. I want all the juicy details. Every last drop.”
Caira quirked her lips and gestured toward the cake. “Let’s just say I won’t be making one of these for myself any time soon.”
Nikki plopped herself onto a nearby stool and scrunched her nose. “Was it that bad?”
“I think the word bad is an understatement.” Caira brushed powered sugar from her fingers and continued. “Try painful. spent hours listening to Brian recite stories about how wonderful he is, and then he intimately introduced my tonsils to his tongue when he tried to give me a good-night kiss.”
Nikki bobbed her head in agreement. “Yeah, I guess he does think highly of himself. But he’s cute enough, and I heard he has a huge co—”
With a wave of her hand, Caira cut her off. “If one can get past his overinflated ego, one might enjoy his other attributes.” She paused and carefully placed the groom onto the top layer of cake. “Unfortunately, I am not that one.”
Caira stood back and admired the finishing touches on the wedding cake. As she adjusted the small groom figurine she sighed regretfully. Would she ever find her very own Prince Charming? She’d made enough cakes over the years to know other women discovered their true love. The one man they were destined to be with. Why couldn’t she? Was she too picky? Too set in her ideas of what qualities her Prince should possess?
Was it too much to want a man with deep soulful eyes that looked at you, not through you? A man with long, midnight hair, a strong angular jaw, quiet confidence, richly bronzed skin, and a body that oozed strength and sexuality.
A man like the one in the portrait hanging in her living room. The one that had been handed down in her family for generations.
With his blond hair, blue eyes, and boyish twin dimples, Brian was the antithesis of her ideal man. Surely Nikki knew that.
Knitting her brow together, Caira glanced at her best friend. “Whatever gave you the idea that we’d hit it off?”
Nikki shrugged. “He’s a wedding photographer.” She paused and waved her hand through the air. “And you own your own bakery shop specializing in wedding cakes. I just thought you had a common interest.”
“The only thing we have in common is we both breathe oxygen. And for a while there I wasn’t even too sure about that. I had a sneaking suspicion he came from another planet. Planet Narcissist to be exact.”
Nikki chuckled and jumped from her stool. “Come on, let’s go shopping. I’ll buy you something nice to make up for it. I hear there’s a new boutique that opened up on Fifth Street and I’m just dying to check it out.”
Caira uncoiled the apron straps from around her neck and eyed her friend. “No more blind dates okay?” She pulled the plastic clip from her nape, letting her blonde curls tumble over her shoulders.
Nikki raised one brow, a wry grin curling her lips. “Not even if he has a huge co—”
Groaning in exasperation, Caira nudged Nikki toward the back door. “No, not even if he has a huge cock.” She tossed her apron aside, and followed her friend outdoors.
A short while later Caira found herself peering through the frosted, curbside door of a store called The Magic Boutique.
She shadowed the afternoon sun from her eyes and turned to Nikki. “What is this place?”
Nikki shrugged. “Let’s go find out.” Tiny bells jingled overhead when she pulled open the thick, opaque glass door and stepped inside. The small store was overcrowded with unique, antique items, rich in history, and undoubtedly, family secrets.
Caira’s senses were immediately enticed by an exotic blend of jasmine and vanilla incense. Soft rays of light from an overhead beaded chandelier bathed the room in a golden glow, creating a cozy, somewhat mysterious atmosphere. Gusts of warm air from a ceiling fan rattled the dangling beads, the resulting noise similar to the soothing sound of raindrops falling on an old porch roof. Blinking her eyes to adjust to the dim light, Caira glanced around the room and noted the dark shadows dancing across the crimson-colored walls.
“Come closer, ladies.”
Caira and Nikki both turned in the direction of the aged, smoke-roughened voice coming from the other side of the room.
In an attempt to avoid banging into any of the expensive items, they pressed their bodies together and carefully moved across the wooden floor until they found the old woman with the deep, gravelly voice.
Dressed in a silk chiffon flamenco skirt with a cut velvet ruffle and a peasant style top, wrapped and knotted at the waist, the woman looked more like a traveling gypsy than a store owner.
Sitting on an oversized stuffed chair, with her legs folded underneath her, she pressed her lips together and stared at Caira for a long silent moment. Her eyes bore into her with a gaze so intense and probing, Caira feared the woman could see into the depths of her soul. She found it most difficult to hold the woman’s stare.
With weathered fingers the gypsy-woman lifted her hand and took a long, slow drag off her menthol cigarette. Tendrils of smoke billowed around her braided, waist-length gray hair.
Not wanting to appear rude, Caira blinked the smoke from her eyes, weaved her fingers tightly together, and restrained herself from fanning the fumes away.
When the woman finally spoke she leaned forward and said, “Ma Petite Princesse. It is you. You have come.”
Did this woman somehow know her? To Caira’s knowledge they’d never crossed paths before.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Caira asked.
Her question was left unanswered.
The woman barely spared Nikki a glance as she unfolded her legs, crushed her cigarette into a pink flamingo-shaped ashtray, and rose. Her joints moaned like a wounded animal with each jerky movement. Using small, measured steps she closed the gap between them and stood in front of Caira. Tension lines bracketed her mouth as her eyes roamed Caira’s face. A moment later a wide smile split her lips as her violet eyes gazed at Caira as if she’d just discovered some long lost treasure. When she reached out and placed her palm on Caira’s forearm, the tiny hairs on the base of Caira’s neck began tingling. An uneasy, foreboding feeling closed in on her.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Caira took a distancing step back and reclaimed her personal space.
The gypsy-woman must have sensed her discomfiture. She positioned herself behind the d
ark, paneled counter and cut her hand through the air. The movement sent a fresh wave of jasmine and menthol before Caira’s nostrils.
“Please browse, ladies.” Returning to her previous position on the chair, she concentrated her attention on lighting another cigarette.
Caira made a move to turn. The woman’s voice stopped her mid-stride. “I must forewarn you that each antique piece comes with its own unique magical power. You must wield that power wisely, Ma Petite Princesse.”
A shiver skittered down Caira’s spine as she turned and stared wide eyed at her friend. Remaining silent through the entire bizarre encounter, Nikki nudged Caira and gave her a look that suggested she too found the whole situation strange.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Nikki whispered as they inched toward the exit.
Caira readily agreed. Wrapping her arm through Nikki’s, they both quickened their footsteps. As they approached the opaque glass door, a strange almost surreal sensation washed over Caira. It was as if someone had physically cupped her chin and turned her head in the direction of the antique oak cabinet in front of the store window.
Her steps slowed and time seemed suspended. She felt her body turn as though she no longer controlled her movements. Suddenly, she found herself standing before the cabinet, even though she couldn’t recall crossing the room.
“I see you have found the Lover’s Locket.”
“What?” Startled by the woman’s sudden appearance, Caira jumped back. She hadn’t even heard her approaching footsteps.
The woman gestured toward the beautiful silver necklace enclosed behind the protective walls of the glass case and motioned for her to take a better look.
“The Lover’s Locket,” she repeated. Her aged voice cracked like brittle bones causing goose bumps to pebble Caira’s flesh.
Palms open, Caira placed her hands on the glass. She was so mesmerized by the beauty of the exquisite piece of jewelry she almost found it impossible to speak. She fought to recover her voice. “It’s magnificent.”
“You’re searching…yes?”
“Searching?” Caira didn’t understand the question.
“For your true love.”
She was surprised at how perceptive the old woman was. Uncomfortable talking about her personal life with a complete stranger, Caira turned the discussion back to the locket. “Is it antique?”
The woman ignored her question and asked one of her own. “Should you wish to have it?”
Caira gave a quick shake of her head. “I can’t afford—”
The woman cut her off. “It is not for you to argue.” She opened the glass case, removed the locket, and placed it in Caira’s hand.
The second the locket came into contact with her flesh, an odd tingling began in her bloodstream. She was strangely fascinated by the piece. Strangely fascinated by the way her pulse kicked up a notch at first contact. Curious about its origins, she stared at the antique locket in awe. She’d never seen anything more beautiful.
The woman touched her arm, bringing Caira’s attention back to her. “You feel it don’t you?” she asked.
Uneasiness closed in on her as she met the woman’s challenging gaze. She felt something, an unexplainable strange pull toward the locket, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She lowered her lashes, hiding her emotions from the woman’s probing eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Caira responded quickly, turning the locket over in her hand. A ribbon of sunlight burst through the window and reflected off the unusual intricate design etched in the silver. Caira squinted and stared at the inscription until the words in front of her blurred together.
The gypsy curled her weathered fingers around Caira’s and squeezed until the locket was tightly enclosed in the safety of her small hand. “With this locket comes great power, but with all great power there comes darkness.”
“What do you mean?” Caira asked, indulging her for a moment.
Her gravelly voice became as smooth as silk as she recounted the tale of the Lover’s Locket. “It is said that if one recites the incantation etched in the silver, their true love will be revealed.” Suddenly, an anxious expression crossed the gypsy-woman’s beguiling violet eyes. “The incantation also awakens the Keeper of Darkness from his eternal slumber.” Frowning intently, she looked deep into Caira’s eyes. “The person who recites the incantation is the only one who can defeat the Keeper of Darkness. It is said that death is the price of failure.”
Caira blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She remembered the old legend well. It was only a few years ago while babysitting her niece that she’d recounted the story herself. She almost laughed out loud at the foolishness of it all. She took a moment to recall the legend.
It was believed that centuries ago on the eve of her arranged wedding to a man she didn’t love, a rebellious princess had fled her father’s castle and secretly met her lover. Their plans to elope were foiled when one of the Lord’s vassals captured them. The all-powerful Lord had a curse placed on his daughter’s lover. In retaliation, the princess acquired the help of an old gypsy woman. She had an incantation etched on her most precious possession, a locket given to her by her lover. Should the locket find its way to her in another lifetime, the princess could read the incantation and break the curse. But unfortunately, as the old woman had already said, with great power comes great darkness. The princess must battle the forces of evil to free her lover forever.
“You know the story…yes?” The worry in the woman’s voice gained her full attention.
Caira forced a smile and addressed the old woman’s concerns. “It’s just a legend. A story told at slumber parties. The legend also says that only the princess can unleash its power,” she pointed out. Rolling her shoulders she continued, “So if this ever fell into the hands of the original owner—”
A frown formed on her forehead as the old woman sealed Caira’s protest with her fingers. Caira repressed a shiver as a chill rushed through her. “What makes you think you’re not the original owner, Bella?” the woman asked.
Caira’s skin prickled. The air almost seemed to crackle with electricity. Bella? Obviously the old woman had her confused with someone else.
“My name isn’t Bella, it’s Caira.”
The woman gave a slow nod. “Yes, of course, Caira. Forgive my slip. Perhaps this belonged to you in the past, Caira.”
She met the woman’s glance and tried to placate her. “It’s ridiculous to believe the legend.” Waving her hand over her worn jeans and t-shirt, she said, “Besides, I hardly think I was a princess in another lifetime.”
“Yes, well, you’ll never know unless you recite the incantation.” The look in the woman’s eyes caused her skin to grow cold.
Caira gulped, her stomach plummeted. Good Lord, what was going on with her? What was she getting all worked up about? She shook her head to clear it. It was just a silly legend.
Wasn’t it?
Two
Night had closed around her as Caira restlessly toyed with the locket draped around her neck. Padding softly across the carpeted floor of her small living room, she glanced out her bay window and gazed at the dark sky. It was nearing midnight, yet sleep continued to elude her. Earlier in the evening she’d had a warm, relaxing bath and dressed in her most comfortable two-piece silk pajamas, but to no avail, she still couldn’t seem to unwind.
Grabbing a new book from the stack of paperbacks on her coffee table, she decided to settle herself into her cushiony recliner. Perhaps that would help her relax and fall asleep. Misty, her cat, jumped onto her lap and curled up on her outstretched legs.
“Hey, girl.” As Caira stroked her cat’s silky fur, her glance wandered to the portrait overlooking her sofa. Drawing a deep breath, she stared at the beautiful man for an endless moment. Zarek. His dark eyes seemed so intimate, so possessive as she gazed at him in rapture.
She drummed her fingers on the wooden armrest. Who was this handsome man? And what was
her obsession with him? Years ago when she had posed that question to her parents, they had no concrete answers. All they could tell Caira was that the portrait had been in the family for generations. She only knew his name because it had been carved into the back of the picture frame.
As her hand tightened over her new locket, the old woman’s words rushed through her mind like a windstorm. “It is said that if one recites the incantation etched in the silver, their true love will be revealed.”
Even though she thought the whole idea of the legend was silly, Caira took a moment to imagine what it would be like if the man in the portrait was her true love. Closing her eyes she fantasized about how wonderful it would be if he came to her, in person. His strong hands cushioning her in his arms. Chest against chest, skin against skin. His full, sensuous mouth taking possession of hers while she touched the hard planes of his magnificent body. His long midnight hair sweeping against her naked flesh as he laid her out and buried himself deep in her welcoming sheath.
Lust swamped her as she played out the provocative mental image. Her breasts tightened in bliss and she reached out and cupped them in her palms, gently massaging and brushing her nipples, attempting to relieve the ache.
A needy, not quite satisfied sigh caught in the back of her throat as she stood and walked closer to the portrait. Rocking on her heels, she fingered the aged canvas. Her hand traced the pattern of his face and surfed the outline of his jaw. There was something in his eyes. Something hauntingly familiar. As her fingers glided over his sculpted chest, she could feel a heavy, sexual pressure building in her body. Her toes curled, her heart pounded, and her skin came alive. Her entire being reacted as though she was touching the man himself. She bit her lip as a rush of heat moistened her silky pajama bottoms.
Good Lord, she had to pull herself together and find a way to get over her strange fascination with the handsome, mysterious man that watched over her every night. A man who continually invaded her thoughts, even in sleep.