by Beverly Rae
My nerves prickled at her careful tone. All I asked for was a little help. If I had to put up with a cheese-loving assistant, then she could damn well do her job. “Not that it matters, but I heard someone mention it and it sounded interesting. Now, are you going to help me or not? If not, then you—” I pointed one finger at Missy, “—can clear out of my office. And you—” this time I pointed at Mini-Pam, “—can power down for good. Which leaves you.” I aimed my human gun at Pam. “You can tell me where I can find a normal personality-free computer.”
The sound of my ringtone jolted me out of the conversation. I shot a look at Mini-Pam indicating that I wasn’t through with her, snatched my phone from my pocket and pushed the button. “DeBunkers, Inc. Your ghoul is my job.” I frowned. When would I come up with a good slogan?
“Chrissy? Thad here.”
“Oh, hi, Thad. Listen, now’s not a good—”
I lifted my gaze to see Fitz hurrying into the room with a vacuum cleaner. Missy let out a squeak, hopped up and dashed from the room. Mini-Pam whirred an angry sound and blinked off.
“Hey! Come back here, Missy! No, no, no! Mini-Pam, don’t you dare power down.”
“But I haven’t talked to you in such a long time. Have you forgotten your old friend?” Thad’s voice held more than the usual whine, but I didn’t have time to do my usual take-care-of-my-sensitive-friend thing right now.
I snarled at the Mouse-Muncher. “Can’t you see I’m working, Fitz?” Mouse-Muncher. Pink-striped mice. Missy had a pink stripe once. Then, when she’d taken the job as my assistant, she’d changed her hair color to blue. Is there a connection? If Missy is indeed a mouse, wouldn’t it be natural for her to fear the Mouse-Muncher? Wait a sec. Am I actually starting to believe this looniness?
Fitz’s face remained calm and unnaturally void of expression. “What are you doing here?” With a dramatic flip of the switch, she started the vacuum and began sweeping the floor underneath my desk.
“This is my office, remember?” I glared at the woman. “I can think of a couple of better questions. Like what are you doing vacuuming? Isn’t that the maid’s job?” I bit my lip but it was of no use. I had to go there. “Have you been demoted, Fitz?”
Fitz kept sweeping, apparently not hearing me above the roar of the machine. Damn. And it was such a good zinger, too. I took a closer look at her. Or maybe she was ignoring me. I chose the latter when she glanced up, an evil leer lifting one corner of her thin lips. With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she pushed the vacuum farther underneath my desk.
Errrrrrrrrrr, zrrrrrrrr!
“Stop! Fitz, stop the vacuum!” But my warning came too late. Pam, my only assistant left standing (so to speak) died, her power cord cut in half by the vacuum. Pam’s frightened image blinked into cyber-nothingness.
You know how sometimes you feel so mad you could kill? When Fitz cut the cable to Pam I was beyond that point. Hell, I was beyond-that-point, over-the-hill and on-the-way-to-the-other-side-of-the-universe mad. So, instead of doing what I wanted to do to her—and wind up on trial for murder—I clamped my mouth shut, stood up and stalked out of my office.
A chuckle had me whirling around, ready to storm back in. Thankfully for Fitz, that’s when I heard Thad’s voice calling out from the phone.
“Chrissy? Where’d you go? Chrissy?”
Wishing my phone was a gun I could use on a certain mouse abuser, I held it up and answered. “Yeah, Thad, I’m here.” Thank goodness for friends who inadvertently keep you from a life in prison. “Can you come over? I need some help investigating…something. Oh, and bring your laptop. My computer is on the Fitz.”
I crisscrossed my bedroom in a frustrated pace and listened to Thad run down the highlights of our investigation. He kept turning his laptop so I could see the screen and the photos there, but I merely glanced at it. I had enough to deal with and my brain was already teetering on the edge to a bottomless precipice.
“So from everything we’ve gathered, which isn’t a great deal, the Scepter of Fire is a relic of indeterminable age and power. Myths say the scepter was created by Merlin and used to slay dragons in the days of King Arthur and the Round Table. Folklore tells of a fight between Sir Lancelot and a mighty dragon that tore the scepter out of the knight’s hand. The dragon then flew off and hid it away, thus keeping all dragons safe.”
Thad shook his head. “This is amazing stuff. I couldn’t have written anything better.” He swiveled the computer around. “In modern times, however, the scepter is said to be in the possession of an organization called the Dragon Dynasty, whose members are, supposedly, real dragons. Rumor has it that many have tried to steal it, but all have died in their attempts.”
I stopped halfway across the room. Kaine collects ancient artifacts. Tuo’s angry words to Sabrina came back to hit me in the gut. I know for a fact that he’s going insane looking for the scepter. The Dynasty is calling for him to step down if he doesn’t find it. Don’t insult me by telling me he still has it.
Could Kaine have this mythical Scepter of Fire? And Sabrina tried to steal it? If so, no wonder he dumped her. Better for that reason than because she wouldn’t get preggers. Or is this all coincidence matched with silly stories? Slumping onto a chair, I held my head in my hands and dismissed all the questions except the really important ones. Did the scepter actually exist? And if so, did Kaine still possess it?
But the revelations and the fun had just begun.
“Hey, didn’t you once tell me that Kaine has a rather unique tattoo? But you never described it to me.” He coughed, then spoke again. But this time his voice sounded weak, even frightened. “Chrissy, I think you’d better see this.”
This time I did look and looked hard. My heart beat faster in weird contrast to my lack of breath. Centered in the middle of the screen was a photo of a man, eerily similar in appearance to my husband. But their dark looks weren’t the only thing they had in common. I stepped closer even as my mind screamed for me to run far, far away. In the hollow of the man’s throat was a tattoo. A sideways figure-eight tattoo exactly like Kaine’s. “Oh, crap.”
Thad shook his head. “Tell me he doesn’t have a tattoo like that one.”
I slid into the chair next to him. “I wish I could. But yeah, he does. Exactly like that one. What is it? Does it mean anything? Kaine told me it was a symbol for good luck.” Did I really want to know anything different? I wasn’t sure, especially since Mr. I-Love-To-Hear-Myself-Talk had suddenly clammed up. Talk about strange. I elbowed him in the ribcage. “Don’t make me read it for myself. Spit it out.”
He took a deep breath and checked to see if I’d meant what I’d said. “Okay, here goes. According to this site, the mark at the base of the throat isn’t a tattoo.”
“What?” I leaned in to better examine the marking. “Then what the heck is it?”
He huffed at my interrupting him and read the text verbatim. As if I couldn’t have done that myself. “According to ancient legend, the figure-eight tattoo on its side is a birthmark designating a leader in the upper hierarchy of…” He paused and wouldn’t read on until I’d made a face egging him on. “…the Dragon Dynasty.”
Yep, the name was in caps and Thad had read the words like that. The Dragon Dynasty? A sick feeling twisted my gut. I gripped the arms of my chair, fighting to keep upright and not drop to the floor in a faint.
“Are you all right, girlfriend?”
“Is this some kind of Oriental club? Maybe an organization dealing with ancient artifacts?” Maybe even a crime ring? “Surely we’re not seriously talking about bona fide dragons.” I laughed but it came out sounding forced. “What is this? Harry Potter, Atlanta style?”
Thad’s arms around me helped to keep me upright. Too bad they did nothing for the storm raging in my heart. “I know it’s a shock, but give it time to sink in. I know you’re a skeptic, but some of the things you call fantasy are real.”
He stared at me and I swallowed a lump of nervousness. I knew Thad believ
ed in the supernatural, but why did I get the feeling he was trying to tell me something important?
“Chrissy?”
Through the hazy fog surrounding me, I managed to lift my head and see Kaine in the doorway. His stern expression made my heart sink.
“Sweet sugar and molasses. Is that who I think it is?” Thad whispered in my ear. He quickly clicked the monitor off.
I was still a little out of it, but that didn’t keep me from being pleased with Thad’s impressed reaction. Or at least I assumed it was a good reaction. “Yep, that’s him.”
Thad let out a little groan—so much for good reactions—and returned his attention to my hubby. “Uh, you know what? I, uh, forgot about this meeting I have.” He glanced at an imaginary wristwatch. “Oh shoot. Will you look at that? I’m already late.”
“Are you kidding me?” My best Pal Gal was bailing on me? I locked onto him, determined not to let him get away. “Not a chance, Thad. I want my two favorite guys to meet.” Yet when I tried to make him stay, he still resisted. We half-stood half-stumbled out of our chairs. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting so freaky?” Was it the tattoo thing? I had to admit it threw me for a loop too. But still…this was Kaine, not some gangster-looking type on the Internet.
“Nothing’s the matter. I simply need to be somewhere else. Like right now.”
By this time, Kaine had stepped into the room. His former stoic demeanor had shifted until he was, once again, the likable man I knew and loved. “Chrissy, I was beginning to worry about you. We’ve missed each other a lot in the past few days. I was hoping we could have tonight to ourselves.” He covered the last few yards between us in record time.
How did he do that? It’s almost like he ran the distance—without actually running. In fact, they way he moved sometimes made me think of those superheroes with lightning-fast speed. One second he’s in one place, then you blink and he’s in another spot. The only difference was that I couldn’t see the ripple trail behind him, showing the path he’d taken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” I leaned in to kiss him. Not an easy task while keeping a hold on my struggling friend. “Thad stopped over to help me with a bit of research.”
“For a DeBunkers’ case?” He eyed Thad, his gaze raking over the smaller man.
The tension between them was so thick I could’ve cut it with a hatchet. But why? Had they met before? Or was it an instinctual dislike? Like the gut reaction I get when I meet a beautiful single woman. (Oh sure. Like you’re never that shallow.)
My ego gave me another idea. Could the two men in my life be jealous of one another? I shook the ego back down to size and dismissed the preposterous idea. Thad certainly wasn’t one of my ex-lovers and Kaine had never shown any signs of jealousy. I tried again to come up with a reason for their obvious aversion, but couldn’t. After all, my normally reliable radar was way off lately.
Kaine thrust out his hand. “Thank you for helping my wife.”
I frowned, surprised when Thad took too long to take his hand. “No problem.” The two stood, hands locked together, and I almost expected them to start wrestling. What was with these guys? “Kaine, you’ve heard me talk about Thad. You know. The actor, director, etcetera, etcetera? Remember? He’s the guy who had the birthday party at the lake?”
“Yes, I remember.” Kaine’s right eyebrow hooked higher. “Good to meet you, Thad.”
At last they dropped hands, yet I couldn’t believe it when Thad wiped his palm on his slacks. Talk about rude.
“The name is pronounced Tad. T-a-d. The H is silent.”
Uh! There was that brilliant flash of gold in my hubby’s eyes! Had Thad seen it too? Is that why he sucked in air and took a step back from Kaine?
“Then why don’t you spell it T-a-d?” Kaine’s eyes, back to their glorious green, twinkled with mirth. Yet somehow I knew he wasn’t at all amused.
“Why don’t you spell your name C-a-n-e?” Thad, who had been ready to run a few seconds before, stepped closer, almost bumping chests with my husband. Or rather, Thad’s head to Kaine’s chest. “Or aren’t you as sweet as sugar cane?
Kaine chuckled, although it sounded like more of a warning growl than a real laugh. “Because my friend, I am definitely not sweet.” He flashed me a short (and sweet?) smile. “Except, of course, to my charming lady.”
What the hell was going on? Did I need a white flag to call a truce? I half-expected Kaine to call for dueling pistols. “Wow, should I rent a boxing ring and let you two go at it? Or would you prefer to settle this with a pissing contest?” (Like Kaine said, sometimes I just ooze charm.)
Kaine made a real chuckle this time, placed his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “Thad and I are simply getting to know each other.” He over-exaggerated Thad’s name and gave my friend something between a smirk and a true smile. Would that be called a smirle?
Thad winced and agreed. “That’s right. We’re good, aren’t we?”
“Of course.”
Uh-huh. Next he’ll be trying to sell me the Brooklyn Bridge. “Why do I get the impression you guys know each other? Have you met before?”
“No.”
“No.”
Both of their negative replies came a little too quickly. Were they both lying? Thad, it seemed, had had enough.
“Okay, well, uh, I’ve got that meeting to get to.” Thad took my hand and squeezed it. “You call me if you need me.” He glanced at Kaine and back. “Anytime, day or night, okay?”
I fumbled with an answer, stunned at how my usually welcoming friend had treated my man. “Uh, yeah, okay.”
Without another glance at Kaine, much less a goodbye, Thad hurried down the long hall toward the front door. I think.
“What the hell was that about?” I took Kaine’s hand, holding him while I studied his tattoo. Yep. It’s definitely the same as the one on the man on the Internet. Glancing down the hall, I couldn’t see Thad any longer. Does everyone move that fast? Or am I just a slowpoke?
Kaine ushered me back inside our bedroom. “I don’t know what you mean.”
When I started to explain, he laid his fingers on my lips and shook his head. “Tell me about your friend later. Right now I have something else we need to attend to.”
“Kaine, if you’re going to bring up that subject about you-know-what, I am not in the mood.” Will I ever be in the mood? Maybe when they come up with a cure for cancer. Suddenly, an image of Kaine holding a baby blindsided me. Yet more amazing than the image, however, was the overwhelming need I had to see that image become real. Omigod. “I’m sorry. Maybe we could—” But I never had a chance to finish my sentence with have that talk.
“All I have on my mind is pleasure.”
The word pleasure zapped the rest of my sentence from my mind. (Okay, let’s be honest. I still wasn’t ready to spill my guts so it didn’t take much to change my mind about having the discussion.) “Oh, really.” My libido instantly revved into high gear, telling my brain all my questions—and surprising ideas—could wait. Sex first, questions later, I always say. Besides, didn’t people say more secrets are revealed in pillow talk than anywhere else? As far as I was concerned, it was time to test the theory. If my new husband had any deep dark secrets, I wanted to find them out now. I put my invisible sleuth cap on my head and let him lead me toward the bathroom.
I walked through the door and my lover-wife bonnet knocked the sleuth cap right off my head. I gazed around the room in awe. Six vases of red roses adorned the spacious room while rose petals artfully decorated the floor. Steaming water filled the spa-sized jet tub, the water glistening in the dim light of dozens of candles. The flicker of the flames made rainbows in the two champagne flutes sitting on the tile ledge.
“Wow.” I’d barely whispered, but Kaine heard me.
He cupped his hand under my chin and lifted my face to his. My heart fluttered at the tender expression on his face and in his eyes. “I hope you like it. I wanted to do something special for yo
u.” He tilted his head in an apologetic manner. “I wanted to try and make up for my not paying you enough attention of late. As you know, an urgent business matter has kept me—” He waved his hand, dismissing what he’d been about to say. “No. No more excuses. You are more important than any business problem.” He caressed my lips, brushing lightly over them with his own. “You are more important than anything.”
Okay, I’m not one who generally swoons at the sweet nothings, but I challenge any woman not to melt at those words. If she doesn’t, she’s either a bitch or dead. “This is amazing.”
“No. You’re amazing. We’re amazing.”
“Ah, there’s my guy. The epitome of modesty.” I leaned against his hard body, but he wouldn’t let me stay that way. Instead, he unbuttoned the top button of my blouse and marched his fingers down the row of them. Not being a slouch in the getting-your-lover-undressed category, I tugged at his slacks, eager to expose what lay in wait underneath.
He bent to place a tender kiss on my neck and moved the blouse off my shoulders. The blouse joined the rose petals at my feet. Taking my breasts in his hands, he traveled his kisses along my shoulder to my ear where he nibbled at the sensitive spot behind my earlobe. His thumbs circled my already taut nipples. A shiver slid through me and I pushed his slacks to the floor.
“I want you, Chrissy-doll.” Slipping his hands along the material of my bra, he unclasped it in record time. The warm mist of the heated bathroom drifted across my naked breasts, stimulating them, readying them for his mouth.
“Kaine Delcaluca, you do have a way with words.” I forgot about trying to unbutton his shirt in a sexy way, and nearly ripped the buttons off getting the damn thing off his hard body. “Don’t you think we’d better get in the water before it cools off?” We hadn’t had sex in a tub yet—how had we missed doing that in Vegas?—and I was ready to get wet in more than one way. Finally undressed, he stepped closer to the edge of the tub and reached out his hand. “M’lady?”
