“It’s so beautiful,” Elena murmured. But it was more than beautiful. It was an enchanted place, filled with wonder. A magical place where anything might happen, where dreams might come true. Had she been a princess in a fairy tale, she would have met her handsome prince here, by the lake, and he would have carried her away to his castle.
She glanced quickly at Drake. He had a castle. Was he a prince in disguise? The thought made her smile.
Pausing at the lake’s edge, she sank down on her knees and leaned forward, her fingers trailing lightly back and forth in the water, which felt refreshingly cool.
She was thinking how daring it would be to shed her clothes and underwear and slip into the cool, clear water, when Drake knelt beside her. The idea of swimming in the nude, with Drake looking on, brought a flood of heat to her cheeks.
“Shall we go for a swim?” he asked.
She looked at him sharply. Was he reading her mind? The thought of swimming while Drake looked on had been outrageous enough. But to go skinny-dipping with him . . . did she have the nerve?
“Together?” It was all she could do to force the word past her lips.
“Why not? It is dark and we are alone.”
“But . . .” She felt her cheeks grow even hotter, if that was possible. All her life, she had been called a prude. Chicken. Scaredy cat. The most daring thing she could remember doing was sneaking out of the house and going to a movie with Jenica. Elena had thought it the height of daring to be out at night without her uncle.
Drake was watching her, one dark brow arched as he waited for her answer. Elena was about to say no when some rebellious part of her asked why she was hesitating. She was a big girl now. Besides, no one would ever know.
He grinned at her, a wicked gleam in his deep blue eyes. “I know you want to.”
Goaded into action, she gathered her courage and gained her feet. Her courage wavered when she began to undress, and she turned her back to him.
Drake grinned as he pulled off his boots, then stood and shrugged out of his shirt.
Elena was careful to keep her gaze averted as he undressed, yet the same naughty imp that had urged her to agree to swim with Drake had her continually darting glances at him. His back and shoulders were broad and well muscled, his skin smooth and pale in the moonlight. His arms were long, corded with muscle that rippled as he moved.
When he unfastened his trousers, she dashed into the lake, keeping her back to the shore.
The water was cool but not cold and she struck out for the other side of the lake, reveling in the touch of the water on her bare flesh. She couldn’t believe how different it was, how exhilarating it was, to swim in the nude.
She was halfway to the opposite bank when Drake swam up behind her. How had he caught her so quickly? She slid a glance in his direction, felt her insides quiver at the brush of his naked thigh against her own. A rush of heat suffused her, and with it a sudden need to touch him, to run her hands over his broad shoulders, to sift her fingers through his long black hair, to press her mouth to his.
Good grief! What was she thinking?
She gasped as his arm circled her waist. What was he doing? She couldn’t reach the bottom. Thoughts of drowning flashed through her mind.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I have you.”
She noticed he wasn’t treading water, so why weren’t they sinking?
All thoughts of drowning fled her mind as he drew her body closer to his, crushing her breasts against his chest. Did he mean to ravish her, there, in the middle of the lake?
There was no mistaking the lust that burned in his dark eyes, or the evidence of his desire pressing against her belly. She had never been sexually active, but she wasn’t totally ignorant, either. She had taken biology in high school and talked about it with her girlfriends. Sex had been their main topic of conversation. Who was doing it? Practically everyone. Where were they doing it? Practically everywhere, including the back of the school bus.
“Elena.” His gaze moved over her, hot and hungry.
She stared at him, troubled by the insidious thought that he wanted more from her than sex, though she had no idea what that might be.
“Moonlight becomes you,” he said quietly.
Her gaze slid away from his as she murmured, “Thank you.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a flush rose in her cheeks. “Not used to sweet talk, are you?”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say. Her uncle had often complimented her, but instead of making her feel pretty or desirable, his flattering words had made her feel dirty somehow.
“You are of an age to be married,” Drake remarked, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. “How is it that you are still unwed?”
“No one ever asked me.”
“Except your uncle?” he guessed.
“Yes.” She shuddered at the mere mention of him.
“If you were to marry someone else, your uncle would have no further claim on you.”
“There is no one else.”
“I take it none of the young men in the village appeal to you.”
“It’s a small town. There aren’t many boys my age and . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t care for any of them. I know you must be tired of having me here, an uninvited guest, but please, don’t send me away.”
Drake frowned. He had no intention of sending her away. She was a beautiful young woman. Her skin was smooth and clear, her limbs nicely rounded, her breasts full. Unless all the young men in the town were blind, it was hard to believe that none of them had offered for her hand, he thought. It was far more likely that her uncle, wanting her for himself, had turned all of her suitors away.
His gaze moved to her lips, which were full and pink and inviting. Too inviting to resist. He heard the sudden intake of her breath as she realized he was going to kiss her. But she didn’t pull away when he lowered his head toward hers.
At the touch of his mouth, Elena went suddenly still. In a distant part of her mind, she admitted she had been longing for this since the first time he had kissed her. It was even better the second time. Just a kiss, she thought, until his tongue slid over the seam of her lips and coaxed her to open her mouth. Her uncle had kissed her like that and she had found it repulsive. But there was nothing repulsive about Drake’s kiss. It burned through her like chain lightning, heating her from the inside out.
She moaned a soft protest when he took his mouth from hers, leaving her aching for more than just kisses.
Drake gazed down at her. He wasn’t surprised by his body’s reaction to her. He was a strong, virile male, and she was a very young, very desirable woman. It was only natural for him to want her, just as it was in his nature to hunger for her blood. So easy to take what he wanted, to ease his lust while he slaked his thirst.
So easy. Tempting as she was, he knew that if he took her in his current state of mind, she would never survive. Somewhat taken aback, he realized that for the first time in years he was more concerned with a mortal’s happiness and well-being than with his own.
“We should go back,” he said abruptly. Releasing her, he struck out for the shore without a backward glance.
Elena stared after him. What had just happened? One minute he was kissing her like there was no tomorrow. And the next, he was gone.
Drake was waiting for her on the bank when she waded out of the water. His gaze caressed her. Never, in all his existence, had he seen anything as breathtakingly lovely as Elena as she stood naked on the moon-dappled sand, her long black hair falling over her shoulders, her damp skin glistening like alabaster in the silver light of the moon. Her limbs were long and perfect, her waist incredibly small.
His gaze moved to the graceful curve of her neck, to the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. Need rose up within him, reminding him that he was a hunter and she his prey, and as much as a lion might love a lamb, there was little hope that the lamb would survive such a relationship.
Even though he ha
d fed earlier, the need Elena aroused in him would not be denied. Drake dressed quickly, then waited impatiently for her to do the same. He escorted her back to the castle and saw her safely inside. Then he fled into the night without a word of farewell lest he take her in his arms and satisfy the thirst that burned hot and heavy within him.
Later that night, Elena lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts in turmoil. Why had Drake put her away from him so abruptly? Had she said something to anger him? Done something to displease him?
Troubling as his sudden leave-taking had been, it was the memory of his kiss that kept sleep at bay as she relived the incredible pleasure that had suffused her from head to heel when Drake’s lips touched hers. It had been so much more than just a kiss.
She touched her fingertips to her lips, wondering how she could get Drake to kiss her again. Wondering, as heat flooded her cheeks, what it would be like to share his bed. Shameful creature that she was, she couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to run her hands over that hard, male body, to feel his hands stroking hers. She knew she should be shocked to even think about such things, but after seeing Drake naked in the moonlight, after feeling the length of his body pressed intimately against her own, she couldn’t think of anything else. Couldn’t stop wanting him.
A bold idea came to her as she remembered something Drake had said earlier. She smiled, thinking it would solve all her problems, if she only had the nerve to propose it.
Elena was sitting on the rug in front of the hearth, thumbing through a magazine, when Drake entered the room. She looked up, surprised to see him so early. It was usually well after dark before he made an appearance, if he showed up at all. Could it be that, after last night, he was as anxious to be with her as she was to be with him? The mere idea made her heart skip a beat. In all the world, had there ever been a man who was as tall and dark, as sinfully handsome, as the one who now stood before her?
“Good evening, fair Elena,” he murmured, smiling.
His voice flowed over her like silk, soft, sensuous.
“Good evening, Drake. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“Shall I leave?”
“No! I mean, it’s your home, after all.”
“Indeed.” He regarded her solemnly, one brow raised. “Is there something you wish to say?”
She blinked up at him. Did he know what she was thinking? But how could he? He couldn’t read her mind. Such a thing was impossible.
He took a seat on the sofa, then gestured for her to join him. Suddenly nervous, she hesitated a moment before taking a place beside him. What had seemed like such a good idea late last night now seemed utterly ridiculous.
“You look upset,” he remarked. “Is something amiss?”
“Yes. No.” She twisted her fingers together to still their trembling.
“Something obviously has you upset,” he remarked. “Why not tell me what it is? Perhaps I can help.”
“Yes, you can,” she said, the words spilling out in a rush. “I don’t want to go back to my uncle, and I have nowhere else to go, and you live alone with no one to care for you, so I thought maybe, if it wasn’t too horrid a thought, that you might marry me. Not a real marriage, of course. It would just be in name only. . . .” she said, her words slowing as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“You want to marry me?” Of all the things she might have said, a proposal had never entered his mind.
“Well, my marrying someone else to get away from my uncle was your idea, after all. I can cook and clean and wash your clothes, and . . .” She swallowed hard, her courage suddenly deserting her. “I won’t be any trouble.”
Lifting one brow, he muttered, “Somehow I doubt that.”
At his words, she bowed her head, her shoulders slumped in defeat. It had been a stupid idea. “If you don’t want to marry me, maybe you could lend me some money so I can take a bus to Brasov and find a job. I’ll pay you back, somehow, I promise.”
“Elena?”
She didn’t answer, refused to meet his gaze. He was a grown man, older than she was, refined, educated. Why would he want a wife in name only when he could probably have any woman he wanted?
“Elena, look at me.”
“No.” She was too embarrassed to face him.
“Elena, I accept your proposal of marriage.”
She lifted her head. “Do you mean it?”
“Indeed, I do.”
For a moment, she could only stare at him. She hadn’t really expected him to agree and now that he had, she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I promise to do my best to keep your house clean, and to make you happy, except for . . .” Her voice trailed off as her gaze slid away from his.
“Never fear. I promise not to make any husbandly demands upon you unless you ask me to.”
“Thank you, Drake.”
“How soon do you wish to wed?”
“Oh, there’s no rush,” she said. “We can have a long engagement.” The longer, the better, she thought. After all, an engagement was almost as good as a marriage for keeping her uncle at bay.
“I think not.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I have reasons of my own. Is tomorrow night too soon?”
She blinked up at him. “Tomorrow night?”
It was easy to see he had taken her by surprise. “Tomorrow night,” Drake said, lightly kissing her on both cheeks. “Be ready at sundown.”
Elena stared at him, unable to shake the feeling that he had somehow manipulated her into doing exactly what he wanted.
Chapter 6
Elena woke early after a restless night. Her dreams had been fitful, filled with shadowed images of Drake pursuing her through a long, twisting maze that had no end.
She spent a few minutes wondering what it meant, if it meant anything at all, then shrugged it off. Probably just a case of prewedding jitters manifesting themselves in a nightmare.
Sitting up, she stretched her arms over her head. It was her wedding day. Last night, marrying Drake had seemed like the answer to all her problems; now, she wasn’t so sure. He was devastatingly handsome and physically appealing, and there was no denying that she was attracted to him but—she didn’t really know anything about him. He was little more than a handsome stranger. And he didn’t know any more about her than she knew about him. Why would he agree to marry a woman he had known such a short time? What did he hope to gain?
Shaking off her doubts, she went downstairs for something to eat. As usual, a tray awaited her. While drinking a glass of orange juice, a new thought occurred to her. She had nothing suitable to wear to a wedding. True, Drake had gifted her with a number of dresses, but even though they were silk, they weren’t really elegant enough for a wedding. And she didn’t have any heels. Or a veil. Or flowers.
Of course, none of those things were necessary. All that was needed for a wedding was a bride, a groom, and a priest.
And then she frowned. She had no idea where the ceremony would take place, no idea what her future husband’s religion might be. For all she knew, he might not practice any religion at all. Her uncle professed to being Catholic, but in all the years she had lived with him, he had never accompanied the family to church, never attended Mass, not even at Christmas.
Elena glanced down as the cat rubbed against her ankles. “Where did you come from?” she asked, and received a loud “meow” in reply.
“I guess it’s too late to worry about where we’re getting married,” Elena mused as she lifted the cat onto her lap and idly scratched its ears. “I can either marry my uncle, marry Drake, or run away again, although I don’t know where I’d go from here. Do you?”
Smoke stared at her through unblinking yellow eyes.
“I just hope I’m not making a horrible mistake.”
A low rumble rose in the cat’s throat.
“I’ve never done anything so impulsive and yet, it feels right, somehow.” She glanced around the hall. “Maybe there really is som
e kind of enchantment on this place. Oh, I know, that sounds silly, and yet, ever since I walked through the door that first night, I’ve felt like I belong here, you know? It’s nonsense, of course. I don’t believe in Fate.”
The cat had no opinion on the subject. Instead, he rubbed his head against her breast.
She stroked the cat’s fur for several minutes, her thoughts turned inward. “One good thing, when I’m a married woman, I won’t have to stay hidden away in this old castle during the day. I’ll be Mrs. Drake. . . .”
She shook her head ruefully. “I don’t even know his last name. But he’s been kind to me, you know. I told him I wanted a marriage in name only, because, after all, I don’t really know him, but—there’s no denying he’s very sexy, and I can’t help wondering what it would be like to taste more than his kisses.”
The cat looked up at her, its golden yellow eyes bright. If it hadn’t been impossible, she would have sworn the animal was smiling at her. Or maybe laughing.
Elena was torn between wishing the sun would set and hoping it would never go down when there was a knock on the castle door. In all the time she had been here, Drake hadn’t received any visitors. The only outsiders to come calling had been her uncle’s men. Had they returned?
Hands clenched, she glanced around the room. What should she do? If she stayed quiet and didn’t answer the door, maybe whoever it was would go away.
The knock came again. Harder. Louder. And then a voice. A woman’s voice.
“Miss Knightsbridge? Hello? Is anyone home? It’s Madame Raschelle.”
Elena frowned. Who on earth was Madame Raschelle, and what was she doing here?
“The dressmaker,” the woman clarified. “From Brasov. I have a delivery for Lord Drake.”
Lord Drake? He hadn’t said anything about being royalty. Curious, she went to open the door.
“Miss Knightsbridge?”
Elena nodded. Madame Raschelle was tall and lean. Her hair was bright red under a frilly bonnet that was the same shade of green as her eyes. Her russet-colored silk gown and colorful fringed shawl were like nothing Elena had ever seen before, except in period movies.
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