What he really wanted to do was keep her in his arms, but he feared she didn’t want to stay. She hadn’t fought him, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she was afraid of him now, or if it was because she’d wanted to be there.
He retrieved the phone. The people on the other end were all silent, but he knew they were still there.
“What do you know of this man?” he demanded.
“I take it you’re familiar with the Knights of the Dragon?” Nic asked.
“Yes. I buy and collect artifacts, and our paths have crossed. They are not good people.” Better not to tell them the truth. This was close enough that they should believe him. “I thought all the people responsible for kidnapping Abigail were dead?” That’s what she’d told him.
“They are.” There was no doubt in Nic’s voice.
“Then why is Bruno after her?” Even as he said it, he knew. The bracelet. It was some kind of trap.
He motioned to her wrist. “Give me the bracelet.”
Abigail pulled her arm back, as though she would protect the jewelry. He didn’t think it was because she coveted the money the piece would bring, but because she wanted to protect the stone.
He held his hand out and waited, knowing she really didn’t have a choice. The second she set the silver cuff in his hand, he felt it. The pull, the lure. He held it up to the light and saw the etching on the inside. It was covered in tarnish, but he could easily make it out with his superior vision.
He quickly handed it back to her. “It’s a trap.”
“What is?” she asked.
“The bracelet. The stone is special, but there is an incantation written on the inside of the silver band.”
“An incantation that will do what?” Abigail demanded.
“If you believe in such things,” he began, watching her closely. “Then the purpose of the bracelet is to lure a dragon.”
The men on the phone began to curse, and Constance began to cry and call her sister’s name.
Abigail was already pale, but she now went deathly white. “No.”
He nodded and pointed. “There is writing on the inside of the cuff. It is a spell to bring and hold a dragon.”
She stared at the piece of jewelry with horror in her eyes. “How do we destroy it?”
All his suspicions melted away. There was no doubting her sincerity, her fear, or her belief. Somehow, some way, Abigail knew dragons were real, and she was ready to protect them.
“Do you know what the stone is?” he asked her.
“It’s a sapphire. But it’s special.” She was purposely vague with her answer. She knew more. He could see the truth in her eyes. She had such expressive eyes.
“If you believe the myths and legends,” he told her, “this is what is known as a dragon tear.” Not quite accurate. It was a drakon tear, but he wasn’t ready to give away all his knowledge at the moment. “They are rare and are produced only when a dragon cries. Legend has it, the creature only cries when its heart is breaking. A dragon only cries for love.”
He couldn’t confirm it, because he’d never shed a tear himself, not even when his mother had passed on. He’d been hardened and jaded even then, all those thousands of years ago.
“How do you know that?” Abigail stared at the bracelet she still held in her palm.
“I collect artifacts of all kinds, and with them come legend and lore.”
“That’s all fine and good,” Nic interjected, his voice booming off the walls in the small room. “But we have bigger problems. There are people who believe such things are real, and they’ll do anything in their power to get them. That means they want Abigail. If what you’re saying is true, and they believe the bracelet will lure a dragon, they’ll want to know why it drew Abigail instead.”
Vasili knew Nic was right. The Knights would come looking for her and wouldn’t stop until they found her. He slipped the bracelet back on her wrist. He would have to destroy it, or at least the silver part. A drakon tear couldn’t be damaged, not even using his drakon fire. Only the drakon who shed the tear could destroy it that way.
“I’ll take care of Abigail,” he told them. Then he grabbed her phone and crushed it in his hand.
“What are you doing?” she cried. She reached for the phone, but it was too late.
“If your family can track it, we have to assume the people after you can as well.”
She slowly nodded. “You’re right.” Still, she peered at the remains of her phone with longing as he stuffed the pieces into his pocket to dispose of later.
“Do you have any other electronic devices?” He pointed at the bag still slung around her neck and shoulder.
“No.” She clutched the bag close. “I have my camera and journal, money, passport, and papers. No computer. This was supposed to be a trip of discovery for me.” She gave a shaky laugh, one tinged with bitterness. “I was supposed to be safe. You want to know the ironic part of all of this?” she asked.
“What?”
“If Nic hadn’t hired a bodyguard, I would never have panicked and jumped trains. I’d be somewhere in Minsk right now taking pictures, searching thrift stores for vintage fabric, and spending my days walking around the city. I wouldn’t have come to Moscow. At least, not yet. I’d planned to take the Trans-Siberian Railway at least partway across Russia, but not until later. Who knows what would have happened if my plans hadn’t changed?”
Their paths might never have crossed. That left him with a hollow pit deep in his gut. Abigail might have come to Moscow at another point in time, but he knew in his heart she would have still been drawn to the bracelet. Then she would have been alone with no one to protect her.
There was a low knock on the door, and the priest entered the room. He glanced at the destroyed table but asked no questions. “I have a friend who will drive you out of the city tonight. He will take you as far as he can by morning. You will have to take the train or find other transport from there.”
“Thank you, Father Petrov.” Abigail rose and held out her hand.
The elderly priest took it in his. “You are most welcome, my dear. I will bring tea and food later, when it is safer. Keep the door locked,” he told Vasili. Then he was gone.
Vasili closed the door and bolted it, leaving them all alone in the small space.
Chapter Seven
Abigail wanted to pace but knew there wasn’t much point. The room was small, and they were stuck here for the time being. At least her family knew she was safe, for now. And if something happened to her, they knew to go after this Anton Bruno.
The chair was hard, so she got up and walked over to the wall and slid down. It was more comfortable to lean against the brick wall and stretch her legs out. She even removed her bag and set it next to her. She looked everywhere but at Vasili.
He’d scared the crap out of her earlier. Even though he’d rescued her from Bruno’s man, she still had no idea why he’d come to her in the first place, other than the bracelet had somehow attracted him.
She’d momentarily played with the idea that he was a drakon. Given his size and intensity, it was possible. She knew he had a tattoo, but not what kind. Lots of men had ink these days. It wasn’t the least bit unusual. She knew that drakons had a tattoo on one side of their body. That little tidbit had been gleaned from listening to her kidnappers.
But that idea had quickly evaporated when he’d handled the bracelet with ease. If it was really charmed with some kind of spell to lure and trap a drakon, surely he wouldn’t be able to handle it without showing some signs of distress?
At least she assumed he wouldn’t. But what did she really know about drakons? Not nearly as much as she obviously needed to.
He might be big enough and dangerous enough to be a drakon, but he was just a man—the only one standing between her and the Knights of the Dragon. And it wasn’t fair to involve him in this, at least not any more than he already was.
If he stayed with her, the chances of him being hurt were very, ve
ry high. She wasn’t sure she could live with herself if something happened to him because of her.
“You should leave,” she told him.
“What?” He stood over her and glared. He always seemed to be glaring at her. Except when he was kissing her. She put that thought out of her head. No more kissing. Vasili needed to leave her as soon as possible.
“You heard me. The Knights don’t know about you. At least we don’t think they do. You should leave and go home. Pretend you never met me.”
She had no idea where his home was. As much as they’d been through together, Vasili was still a stranger. “I don’t want to put Father Petrov in danger, either.” The priest had been nothing but kind. “I’ll sneak out after dark and take my chances on the train.”
She doubted she’d get that far, but at least she wouldn’t have the lives of innocent people on her conscience.
Her plan was the best one.
Vasili threw himself down on the floor beside her. When he stretched his legs out, they extended way past hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His blunt declaration made her heart skip a beat. As much as she knew it would be safer for him, she really didn’t want to be alone. But then common sense took hold. “You have to.” It was selfish of her to want him to stay.
He made a sound of pure male frustration, then reached over and plucked her right off the floor and onto his lap so she was facing him. She tried to scramble away, but he kept his hands on her waist, holding her in place.
The dim light seemed to shine on his face. It was all hard angles and planes. His lips were thin, but the bottom one was plumper than the top. His hair looked smooth and silky and should have softened his look, but it didn’t.
Thick eyelashes fringed his pale-blue eyes. Put him in a medieval castle, give him a sword, and he’d look like an ancient warrior. No, that wasn’t quite right. There was intelligence, a sense of knowledge and power in his gaze that made it almost difficult to look him in the eyes for any length of time. He could be a monk. No, scratch that. He was far too sensual to be a monk. A wizard.
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
Abigail found herself mesmerized by his stare, his touch. “Who are you, Vasili? I know nothing about you. I don’t know why you came to me.” Secrets, he had so many secrets.
He frowned, and his eyes grew a shade colder.
She shook her head, forestalling whatever he planned to tell her. “I don’t know your secrets, and I don’t need to. It’s probably for the best. I can’t tell anyone what I don’t know.” She was under no illusions she was going to make it out of Russia safely. And even if she did, what then? The Knights of the Dragon seemed to have people everywhere and unlimited resources.
Vasili pulled his knees up so they were pressed against her back. It pushed her against his chest. All she could do was stare at him. She was scared out of her mind about what was going to happen to her, but her body softened as he drew her closer.
She could very well die if the Knights found her. If that was going to happen, she wanted to taste life first. They might not be in the most secure place in the world, or maybe they were. Maybe a church was the last place the Knights would think to search for her. Either way, she wanted to kiss Vasili one last time before she made him leave her.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. For such a hard man, they were incredibly soft. She was bundled up in layers of clothes, but her coat was open. Her breasts ached, and she rubbed them over his wide, firm chest.
He made a low rumbling sound, cupped her face in his hands, and took over. Abigail lost herself in the sheer beauty of the moment. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Vasili didn’t just kiss her, he devoured her.
She’d had one lover in her life—a long-term boyfriend. They’d eventually parted ways, but she’d always enjoyed their sex life. She instinctively knew there would be nothing enjoyable about sex with Vasili. It would be devastating, mind-altering, and earth-shattering.
And she wanted it.
More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, she wanted to make love with Vasili. Maybe it was the adrenaline and fear. That was certainly a part of it. But she knew in her heart she wouldn’t feel the same about any other man. There was something about him, something that called to the depths of her soul.
Fingers digging into his rock-hard shoulders, she kissed him back with everything she had. He tasted hot and male and oh so inviting. His big hands left her face and traveled down, pausing at her sides next to her breasts.
Her nipples were hard nubs beneath the layers of clothing she wore. The throbbing between her legs grew more intense. When he snaked his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers, she began to sweat.
He started to move his hands inward. She moaned in anticipation. Then his hands were gone and so was his mouth. Abigail was left panting and staring at him.
He was glaring at her, yet again. It seemed to be his default expression when it came to dealing with her.
“What?” she demanded. She would not feel ashamed or embarrassed by what she’d done. She was a grown woman and knew what she wanted.
He banged the back of his head lightly against the wall behind him. “This isn’t right. You’re upset. Emotional.”
Once again, Vasili was looking out for her. He might look scary as all get out, but there was a heroic heart at the core of the man.
She pressed her hands against his chest and kneaded the hard muscle beneath his sweater. “You’re right. I am upset and emotional.” He closed his eyes and nodded in resignation. “But I also know what I want.”
His eyes snapped back open, and there was pure lust in his gaze. Vasili wanted her, of that she had no doubt. But their location wasn’t ideal.
“As much as I want you, we’re in a church,” he reminded her. Something she’d only just remembered. The last thing she wanted to do was disrespect the priest after all he’d done for them.
Still, she couldn’t quite hide her disappointment. She was aroused, her body crying for release. Her emotions were all over the place. And then there was Vasili. Big, dangerous, mysterious Vasili.
“Why did you come for me?” It was a question she’d asked before, one she’d keep asking until he finally gave her an answer.
…
Vasili wanted to swear. If he’d kept his mouth shut and just kissed her, he’d be enjoying himself a hell of a lot more than he currently was. His cock was threatening to break the zipper on his jeans, the damn thing was so hard. He’d be wearing the metal teeth marks in his dick for days at this rate.
He hadn’t had a woman in quite some time, but he knew it wasn’t just lust driving him. And it wasn’t the damn bracelet, either, even though he felt the pull from the spell. It was Abigail.
“What do you know about dragons?” he countered.
She frowned, and he wanted to kiss her until she smiled. He kept his hands on her waist when what he really wanted to do was cup her full, firm breasts. No, he wanted to strip her naked and cup her full, firm breasts.
His cock jerked, and his dragon roared in agreement inside him.
“Why do you want to know?” she countered.
Frustration, sexual and intellectual, ate at him. “I watched you, listened to you when you spoke with your family. You are not surprised by the idea of dragons.”
She licked her lips, and he barely swallowed back a groan. He shifted slightly, but there was no comfortable position that would alleviate his suffering unless they both got naked and he fucked her senseless.
“Abigail.” He had to get her to open up to him. “I know dragons are real.” He’d give her that much.
He could tell he’d surprised her when her eyes widened. “You do?”
“I’ve seen things. Heard things.” He left it at that, allowing her to draw her own conclusions.
“I’ve seen things, too.” She shivered and stared off, as though seeing something that he coul
dn’t. “Crazy things.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him, or tried to. He didn’t move. “Which is why you’ve got to leave. You’re not involved in this. Not really. You can still get away.”
Unfuckingbelievable. This slip of a woman was trying to protect him, a mighty drakon. Granted, she had no idea what he was, but that was beside the point. He was still a man. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.
“No.” He ran his fingers through her short, pale hair, the strands like sunlight even in the dim light. It was so soft, like a sensual caress. “You asked why I came to you.”
She stilled, and all her attention focused on him. He liked being the center of her world. Liked it a little too much.
“You were attracted to the bracelet,” he pointed out. “I was attracted to you.” He let his fingers graze over the curve of her chin and down her neck. She shivered under his touch. “I have a gift for finding rare and special things, too.” Not entirely a lie. He was attracted to the bracelet, but Abigail was no ordinary woman. “And what I found was you.”
He kissed her again, because he had to, because he needed the press of her lips against his, the taste of her in his mouth, more than he needed his next breath. He wanted to tell her the truth, share what he was with her, but this wasn’t the time or place. Once they were somewhere safe, somewhere he could protect her, he’d reveal all.
How will she react?
He didn’t know for sure, but what he did know was that she wanted him. She kissed him back with abandon. He loved the way she clutched at his shoulders and arms, the small sounds of pleasure she made when their tongues touched. She was like molten lava, hot and liquid.
With his preternatural senses, he could smell her arousal, and it was driving him mad. It was a delicate perfume that grew in complexity and intensity as their kiss deepened.
He ran his hands down her slender back and then under her coat and sweater, groaning when he touched bare flesh. Her skin was so soft. He wanted to taste it, to lay her on a soft bed and lick his way up her spine from the base to the top. Then he’d nibble on her neck.
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