Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath and expelled it forcefully. “We’re looking—”
“The rune,” Dash broke in, his tone flat and deadly. “Where is it?”
Huh. She hadn’t expected him to get right to the point. Still, it would have saved her some blabbering if he’d gotten around to it a wee bit sooner.
A slab of granite looked less rigid than Jerrick’s face. “You came back for the rune? Should have saved yourself the trip.” Giving a derisive snort, he stepped back from the circle of light spilling from the streetlamp.
“Wait!” Mara strained against Dash’s vise-like hold. She couldn’t let Jerrick disappear into the shadows. Not when he held Gideon’s future in his hands. “I’ll pay you for your time. Surely this thing between you and Dash can be put aside in exchange
for—”
“This thing between us?” Jerrick stepped back under the lamplight, revealing an expression alive with fury. “I caught the sonofabitch in bed with my wife-to-be.” His cold stare didn’t waver from hers, not even when she winced at his harsh accusation. “Keep your damn merca. I’d rot in debtor’s purgatory before helping him.”
His shoulders stiff, Jerrick turned and stalked off. His abrupt departure ripped a hole in Mara’s heart—in more ways than one. She’d known Dash’s reputation when she’d walked into this mission. He was a womanizer of epic proportions. But hearing the ugly truth of it firsthand stung her like a horde of angry bees.
She shoved Dash’s arm away and whirled to face him. “How could you sleep with another’s wife-to-be? Is nothing sacred to you?”
A nerve twitched in his jaw. “I know it’s shocking to consider, but I’m not completely devoid of morals.”
“Are you saying you didn’t sleep with her?” A tiny seed of hope unfurled in her chest, sprouting the first tender shoots of faith. She wanted to believe Dash possessed integrity—that he was somehow better than the majority of his ilk.
“I don’t expect you to believe me if I say I didn’t. You wouldn’t be the first.” His casual tone belied the ember of dark emotion skating briefly across his face.
“Why doesn’t Jerrick believe you?”
Dash didn’t seem the least surprised she’d pinpointed the person responsible for his gloom and doom expression. He stooped and snagged his hat from the walkway. His eyebrows knitting in concentration, he focused on bending the hat back in shape. Just when she became convinced he wouldn’t answer, his lips twisted with a hint of annoyance. “He walked in on a situation that looked pretty damning. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I would have believed I slept with Leena.”
The name rolled off his tongue with easy familiarity. With a touch of affection. Jealousy spiked through Mara. She gritted her teeth at the unwelcome sensation. “Were you in love with her?”
His stare suggested she’d lost function of her brain. “Why would you ask such an insane thing?”
“It almost seemed like it, the way you said her name.” She caught the beginnings of his grin and hurried to cover her tracks. “Not that I care or anything.”
“Leena and I were friends once upon a time, nothing more. Does that ease your worrisome heart?”
She tucked her lips tight, giving herself precious seconds to organize the necessary words. “Look, all I care about is figuring out how we’re going to smooth this complication with Jerrick.” Not a complete lie. Getting Jerrick on their side remained her top priority. The complicated mess of her emotions where Dash was concerned was better shoved in some dark corner. Out of sight, out of mind.
Dash continued fiddling with the hat’s brim. “We’ll find another way to track down the rune. I figured Jerrick for a long shot anyway.”
His overly calculated, breezy attitude triggered her suspicion.
“You never intended to meet up with him, much less ask for his help, did you?” The last two words bulleted from her mouth. “This whole night was just a big smokescreen to throw me off.” Gods, she really was a moron for falling for his line of bullshit. Not to mention the things she’d let him do to her. No, the things she’d craved for him to do to her…
The hot wave of embarrassment and shame cresting inside Mara threatened to crush her under its riptide. If his duplicity wasn’t a flashing sign that she needed to keep her feelings for him shoved in that dark corner, she was blind and stupid.
Dash’s mouth tipped in a patronizing smile. “Sher ’tian, don’t get excited.”
She dropped her arms and balled her fists. “Trust me…” Her voice dipped into a dangerous purr. “You haven’t seen me excited yet.”
Wariness flickered across his face. “Normally, I’d provide a perfectly ribald comeback to that, but I’ve received my quota of punches for the night.”
“You’re damn lucky I’m too tired to give you another.” She spun on her heel and strode in the direction of the hotel. An angry march would have suited her mood, but unfortunately her high heels allowed nothing more dramatic than a lurching wobble. Dash sprinted up next to her, his longer legs easily overtaking her stride.
“When you say tired, you don’t actually mean tired, do you?”
She slanted him a peeved look. “What else would I mean?”
He plopped his hat back over his head and his gaze drifted to her breasts. “I thought we were going to indulge in some hot Aurion monkey sex.”
Her jaw dropped at the utter obtuseness of him. Or was it an affliction ailing the entire male species in general? She gave him a withering glare. “Sorry, but you and the monkey are on your own.” With that parting shot, she strutted away.
~ * ~
Sometime around three in the morning, Mara admitted she’d wasted two frustrated hours staring at the ceiling. Pushing the covers aside, she climbed out of bed, trying not to wake Piper. The sprite continued snoring on the far pillow.
Mara paced the carpeted floor, rubbing her bare arms while self-defeating thoughts played a hellish game with her head.
“I should have gone after Jerrick.” She kicked at her discarded shoe, sending it tumbling toe over heel towards the white lacquered dresser. “Damn it, I should have.”
If Dash was going to continue scheming his way out of the hot seat, she’d just have to rely on her own inventiveness. The last twelve years spent honing basic survival skills had certainly given her plenty of practice in that department. And she hadn’t endured being drugged, trapped in a snare, and copious amounts of Gromache spit just to tuck her tail between her legs and admit defeat. Hell no.
She stalked towards the balcony. Forsaking her robe, she yanked the filmy curtains aside and unlatched the glass door. Her bare toes curled, seeking shelter from the cool breeze. The knee-length cotton chemise she wore didn’t offer much protection from the elements, but the brisk air cleared the remaining doubts clinging for dear life and scattered them to the wind.
The rail beckoned. Heeding its call, she leaned forward, curling her hands over the slick glass surface. Sixty stories below, the city of Tul’dea resembled a miniature fairy village with its white-lighted trees. She almost felt like a goddess peering down from her palace in the clouds. The idea made her mouth curl in derision. Yeah, right. Imagine me anything but a lowly serf. All the fresh air must have sucked the reality from her brain.
A soft click sounded to her right. She jerked her head around in time to spot Dash slipping silently through the door farther down the balcony. Other than a pair of navy blue briefs that molded to him like a second skin, he was deliciously bare to the night.
She stared at him, desperately willing her contempt to make an appearance. Her traitorous emotions refused to obey.
He padded towards her, the blinking purple lights on his collar casting strange neon shadows across his face and chest. Their constant flashing must be annoying as hell.
A yawn stretching his mouth, he settled beside her. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not really.” Reaching out, she pushed her thumb against one of the collar’s blinking ligh
ts, temporarily dimming it. “This must drive you nuts.”
“The first night it made sleeping difficult. Now I’m used to it.”
Her surveillance moved from the collar. His bare chest, particularly the sculpted curve of his breastbone, garnered her rapt fascination. When she realized how close her hand hovered near temptation, she snatched it away. At a loss for what to do with it, she returned the recalcitrant appendage to the rail, curling it beside its partner.
He stared at her hands for several minutes. She cleared her throat. Breaking from his odd trance, he granted her a sleepy half smile that was too sexy for words. “Sorry. My mind was conjuring a memory from earlier.”
She lifted a hand, trying to smother a yawn. What was it with yawns anyway that made them so damn contagious? “Hmm, was it a good memory?”
Dash’s amber gaze smoldered like a banked fire. “Real good.”
His velvet-riding-over-gravel tone pricked goose bumps along her arms. “On second thought, this fresh air isn’t doing much for my insomnia.” She started to push away from the rail. Dash moved behind her, his chest an unyielding wall of heat. He stood so close the hair on his legs tickled the backs of her calves.
She fought to still the trembling in her limbs.
“You know, there’s one surefire cure for insomnia.” His fingertips followed the trail of goose bumps down her arms. “Some hot…sweaty…” the unmistakable bulge of his erection nudged the small of her back, just above her buttocks, “…mind-blowing sex.”
Her fragile thread of control threatened to snap.
The coaxing press of Dash’s flesh and the dark promise of his words were fierce warriors. She swallowed hard, her senses on overload. There was no drugged wine muddying her logic this time. No fae magic. Nothing she could pass the blame to. Just her own pathetically weak willpower. “Didn’t we have a conversation about this earlier? I distinctly recall shooting you down.”
“Yeah, you and the monkey both.” His teasing chuckle brushed against her ear, making her shiver. “But I thought perhaps…you’d let me change your mind.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he gently whisked the strands over one shoulder. Feather-light kisses skipped down her nape.
Knowing he was most likely working her for his own devious motives didn’t stop her body from melting like butter beneath his touch. “If I caved, would you agree to tracking down Jerrick again and begging for his help?”
His answer came two seconds too late. “Yes.”
“You’re lying.” She pivoted inside the cage of Dash’s arms and glared up into his shadowed face. “Is there anything you won’t say in hopes of getting your way or saving your own ass?”
“I admit my motives haven’t always been sterling. But I’m not lying when I say I want you. With an intensity bordering on torture.” The slave collar’s flashing lights threw the rugged planes of his face in harsh relief, as if verifying his agony. “I’ve lusted after diamonds and rubies worth millions of merca, and still none of those things brought me to my knees like you manage to do.”
Her heart pounded wildly, drowning out all else. Don’t fall for his bullshit again, you moron. “You expect me to believe that?” Furious, she shoved against his chest. “I don’t have that kind of power.”
“You do…over me.” He cradled her face within the warmth of his palms. “Stop fighting it. You know we’re meant to happen.”
She stared into his eyes, struggling for control. What he offered was…impossible. “No, we’re not happening. Got it? I won’t give in to you.” The words came out in a fierce hiss. She had to prove it, more to herself than him, that she alone controlled her fate. Not him. Certainly not her body’s hunger for him. Too much responsibility rode on her shoulders to bow to that weakness.
Knocking his hands away, she grabbed the back of the slave collar and pulled his head down. Her mouth met his in a hungry, bruising kiss. He groaned and began snaking an arm around her shoulder. She grasped his wrist but was unable to fully manacle it inside her fist. His sheer size and strength overpowered hers, but she parried it with emotional fury and the rake of her fingernails into his scalp.
“I could walk away from you right now without a backward glance.” Her cold whisper brushed against his lips, punctuating her determination.
He tugged his head back, his narrowed eyes glittering. “You’ve an interesting way of throwing down the gauntlet.” His chest rose and fell rapidly with his ragged breaths. “Fine, game on.”
She barely had time to remoisten her lips before he crushed them beneath his. His tongue invaded her mouth, asserting its dominance. She sparred back, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip. Their battle over supremacy drove them from the balcony rail and they thudded against the door leading into her room. He trumped her by wedging her against the glass. She counter-maneuvered by kicking his nearest foot away, widening his stance until he was forced to plant his hand on the door for support. Again he upped the ante with a provocative bump and grind against her pelvis.
His tongue retreated from her mouth and traveled down the slope of her neck. Panting, she fought her body’s instinctual desire to arch into him. Fingers plainly skilled in the art of pleasure cupped her breast. She bit back a moan. Sneaky bastard didn’t play fair.
“I could make you come. Right here and now, if I wanted to.” Dash dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat and flirted with the erratic drum of her pulse. “But where’s the fun in that? Instead, I’m going to take you in my bed and explore every delicious nook of your body. Only when you’re out of your head with pleasure and begging for the climax you’re desperate for, will I slide deep in here.” His hand left her breast and slid between her legs.
She swallowed with some difficulty. “Pretty detailed plan you’ve got there.”
“Something needed to occupy my mind the last few days.”
“What if I say no?”
“You won’t.” The pad of his thumb rubbed her through the chemise and his grin turned infuriatingly arrogant when she gasped and arched into his hand. “Your body won’t let you.”
Those were precisely the words she needed to hear. She slipped under his arm and reached for the door handle. Ducking inside her room, she slammed the door and twisted the lock. The last thing she saw before sliding the curtains in place was the stunned expression on Dash’s face.
Chapter Twelve
“How damn difficult can it be tracking down a thief on my own?” Hell, she’d managed just fine once before.
Mara dragged her brush one last time through her hair. Giving up on the uncooperative curls, she tossed the brush onto the marble ledge above the bathroom sink and stalked into the main room. Her corded vest hung from the back of the chair angled in front of the dresser. She tossed it on over her blouse and jammed her feet into her sandals. Shooting a glare at Dash’s door, she exited the room.
Her mood lightened considerably on the ride down to the lobby. Hard to be a sourpuss when the glass-enclosed lift announced each floor with such cheery enthusiasm. Really, who knew machinery could be so perky?
“Have a lovely day,” the lift chirped when she reached the lobby.
“Um, you too.” Waggling her fingers in a departing wave, she stepped out and crossed to the spacious front entrance.
Outside, the streets bustled with morning activity. It was quite a different vibe from the party scene the night before. A vendor stood outside a kiosk displaying vials filled with mysterious substances. He spotted her and rushed forward, brandishing several of the vials in one of his hairy-knuckled hands.
“M’lady, this is your lucky day. Normally I charge big merca for my amazing cure-alls, but since your beauty has addled my brain, I’m going to cut you a deal.”
Not wishing to be rude in the face of his effusive and rather over-the-top flattery, she sent him a patient smile. “Thanks, but I don’t need—”
“This here is my most popular potion.” The man waved a vial brimming with a sparkly pink liquid in fro
nt of her. “It’ll make your feller randy as a Weliker hound.”
Mara stared at the vial in horror. Oh jeez, I definitely don’t need that.
The vendor slapped his forehead. “What was I thinking? Pretty thing such as you doesn’t need help hoisting her man’s rigging.”
A choked laugh sputtered from Mara. Rigging?
“No worries. I’ll find you the perfect potion.” The vials clinked musically when, with a sleight of hand, the vendor shuffled them. A small child dressed in a raggedy tunic that drooped on his bony shoulders approached the kiosk, gaining the man’s eagle-eyed attention. “Off with you,” he bellowed, shaking a fist at the boy.
The child scurried down the walkway.
Mara leveled an accusing glare on the vendor. “You scared him.”
“Good. He’s a filthy runt.” The vendor gave a final shake of his fist before turning back to her. He took one look at her face and gave an anxious stutter. “He’s a thief, m’lady. Don’t feel sorry for him.”
“Maybe, but he’s also just a child.”
“Those are the ones you have to watch out for. They’re fast and too crafty for their own good. I can’t tell you how much merchandise I’ve lost to the likes of them.” The vendor appraised the front display of his kiosk. His face suddenly darkened with rage. He stormed to the baskets and thumped a fist hard on the table, making the vials roll and click together. “Two vials are missing! That’s it—I’m siccing the law enforcers on the little mongrel. He can’t keep robbing me blind if he’s locked behind the fairy prison’s bars.”
Mara blinked at the vendor’s harsh pronouncement. She felt for his plight, but at the same time her heart went out to the dirty-faced child. In tough times, people would do whatever it took to survive. And the fairy prison was no place for a small, defenseless boy. “Here,” she said, rooting in her pocket. “I’ll recompense you for whatever he took.”
“M’lady, you are as kind as you are beautiful. For that, I’ll sell you my most requested potion for a fraction of its value.”
Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 Page 12
