Dragon's Curse (Harlequin Nocturne) (3 page)

And since he would never be able to read the grimoire, he had
no interest in that particular textbook of magic. However, he wanted that
accursed emerald dragon pendant. The one that had come to life and put him in
this condition.

He stared hard at his son and crooked an index finger, as if
beckoning him forward. The movement caught Jeremy off guard. He leaned closer,
permitting Nathan to wrap an unseen hand around the young man’s neck.

“If Ms. Johnson fails to gain the position, you will fail to
breathe.”

Jeremy’s eyes blazed with rage. Nathan squeezed harder, chasing
away the anger until fear and obedience filtered into his son’s bulging
gaze.

“Do you understand me, my dearest child?”

His son nodded and as soon as Nathan released his grasp, Jeremy
and the folder vanished.

Nathan rose slowly. Before whisking himself from the office, he
turned to touch each of the dragon statues on the credenza behind him.

“Fear not, soon we will possess what’s owed to us.”

Chapter 2

Dragon’s Lair, East Tennessee

C
ameron Drake leaned farther back in his
chair. With his feet propped up on the mahogany desk and the bright sunshine
streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window warming him, he gave up his
argument against dozing.

Glad to be home after a month-long absence, he was nevertheless
disgruntled that the woman hadn’t returned to Mirabilus. He’d scoured the
workroom, trying to find anything that might resemble a box or piece of jewelry.
Unfortunately, his search had turned up nothing.

Whatever she was looking for was either still there—somewhere
on the grounds—or had never been there to begin with.

Which is why he’d waited for her to return. He needed to know
exactly what she had been searching for, and he wanted to be absolutely certain
she’d been sent by the Learneds before filling the rest of his family in on the
details.

If he simply announced that Nathan hadn’t died, his brother and
sister-in-law wouldn’t believe him. They were positive their magical dragon had
killed the wizard.

The beast they’d conjured had flown away with the wizard in
tow, and returned empty-handed, save a wooden cube it had dropped at Alexia’s
feet.

No matter how gruesome it might have been for the others, he
wished the beast had killed the wizard right before their eyes. At least then
there would be no doubt of the family’s safety. As it was now, too much of
Braeden’s certainty was based on assumption. It seemed as if only he was
doubtful of their success.

Cam stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders, hoping to ease
some of the tension. It had been a long flight home from Mirabilus, even on the
family’s private jet.

Since his aunt had decided to return to the Lair with him, his
preferred method of travel would have been problematic. He wasn’t ready to let
Danielle Drake know about his beast.

It wasn’t that she’d be horrified—far from it. She’d probably
be thrilled. And then she would want to closely study him under her mental
magnifying glass. Putting it in a vernacular his younger brother, Sean, would
employ—that would just suck.

Someday he’d have to work on explaining his extra ability to
his family. But for right now, soaking up the sunshine was of greater
importance.

“Cam.” Sean’s voice cut into the quiet.

With a groan, Cameron slid his legs off the desk then tapped
the intercom button on the phone. “What do you want?”

“Your two o’clock is pulling up in the driveway.”

Cam glanced out the window. A nondescript white panel van came
to a stop in the circular entrance. But the woman who jumped out of the driver’s
side was anything but drab.

Her dark hair barely brushed the top of her shoulders. The navy
blue suit fit her curves like a glove. Jacket just the right length, skirt hit
just above the knee. The black, low-heeled pumps shined as if they’d just been
taken out of the shoe box.

Her job application had raised his suspicions, which were now
confirmed by her too-perfect textbook appearance. He’d already interviewed
nearly fifty people for various management positions and not one of them had
been dressed for Wall Street. Apparently, whoever instructed her on professional
dress had used an outdated manual.

While he wasn’t surprised to see she sported a white blouse
beneath the jacket, he had expected some sort of faux tie—in red or maybe black.
But not even a scarf covered the flesh beneath the open buttons of her blouse.
His lips quirked at the flagrant display of rebellion against her mentor.

At his lengthy silence, Sean asked, “You want me to take
it?”

Cam stared harder at the woman. She was somehow familiar, but
from this distance, without the benefit of scent, he couldn’t discern why, or
from where. He shook his head and finally answered his brother, “No, I’ve got
it. Have Jennie send her in.”

Certain their new receptionist would point the woman in the
right direction, Cam pulled a folder out of his top desk drawer.

Cam had interviewed a dozen candidates for this position before
his trip to Mirabilus. Ariel Johnson was the first of three who were scheduled
for this week.

She claimed to be a professional gardener. Her references all
checked out—too well, in Cam’s opinion. But unless the woman had a thing for
cloying aftershave, the person who’d handled her application had been a man.

Innate curiosity had been the only reason he’d arranged an
interview. Too much had happened at Mirabilus of late for him not to be
suspicious of every little thing. He wanted to see if she was up to
something.

While it could be possible that he was wrong, he doubted it.
According to her application, she was single, which, of course, didn’t
necessarily mean she lived alone. Still, her references were too glowing—too
over the top to be believed.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He closed the
folder, then crossed toward the door.

Cam paused and took a deep breath. As he opened the door her
scent wafted through his senses. Familiar smells raced through him, bringing a
memory of fear and shock laced with denied lust to the fore.

He narrowed his eyes. She was familiar all right. This was the
woman who’d been in the chamber at Mirabilus. She’d run like a frightened rabbit
when he’d given her the chance.

And now she came willingly to the Lair?

In the guise of an overdressed and overqualified gardener?

She didn’t flinch under his unwavering stare. Instead, she
returned his look and smiled.

Smiled.

Whatever she was up to involved either a touch of insanity, or
more bravado than any six mortals possessed.

If she
was
mortal. But he sensed
nothing otherworldly, or magic.

“Mr. Drake?”

The soft, steady tone of her voice wisped against his ears
before flitting across his mind. Discovering what she was up to suddenly seemed
more than just a lark, it had become a priority.

He’d been unable to protect his wife. A tragedy that he would
not permit to happen again. If this woman worked for the Learneds, she was a
danger to his family. And he would do everything, sacrifice anything, to ensure
their safety. But first he had to be sure of her involvement.

Cam eased the scowl from his face and held the door open,
motioning toward his desk. “Ms. Johnson, thank you for coming. Please, have a
seat.”

She walked by him, insisting, “Ariel, please.”

Ariel
. He rolled his eyes, doubting
if she’d prove to be an angel of healing, or new beginnings, as her name
implied. He kept the thought to himself. Instead, he sat down behind his desk,
facing her across the distance.

Ariel’s stomach did a roller-coaster nosedive when he looked at
her. He was…striking…to say the least. Not overtly gorgeous in a model’s way.
The strands of silver shimmering at the temples of his dark, sandy-blond hair
lent an air of authority, certainty—as if he’d been around and knew exactly what
he was doing.

She wondered if that air carried over into his personal life. A
warmth slid over her cheeks at the outrageous thought.

Ariel closed her eyes.
What was she
doing?
She was supposed to be here for a job interview, not checking
out the would-be boss.

Yet, when she opened her eyes again, her gaze fastened
instantly on his mouth and a full lower lip that was designed for kissing her
senseless.

To hide the heat now flaring from her cheeks to her chest, she
glanced around the room.

She’d been in homes less extravagant than this office—her home
for one. From the thick midnight-blue carpet that looked more like velvet than
floor covering, to the artwork hanging on the walls. Oils that appeared to be of
such good quality that she wondered if they were originals. The ornate wooden
frames alone were probably worth more than all her possessions added
together.

Slowly turning her attention back to Mr. Drake, her gaze fell
on a statue in the corner—an amethyst dragon. Her breathing hitched. The room
swam around her. She swore she could feel the beast’s warm breath rush across
her cheek.

Like being outside in the midst of a gathering lightning storm,
her skin tingled from the discharged energy. The fine hairs on the back of her
neck rose in anticipation of being struck by a bolt of lightning.

She’d dreamed of nothing except dragons since the night she’d
broken into Mirabilus. Nightmares that had her bolting awake with a scream on
her lips and dreams that had left her strangely wanting.

To keep from racing out of his office and away from Dragon’s
Lair, she stared at Mr. Drake, trying to focus her thoughts on something other
than the terror clawing at her chest.

His brilliant blue eyes caught and held her attention.
Mesmerized by his gaze, she relaxed as a languid warmth flooded her veins,
chasing away the fear. The flush of embarrassment mingled with desire caused her
to quickly glance away.

Wasn’t she already in enough danger? She didn’t need to add
more.

Cam studied her closely. For the most part, she held his gaze,
glancing away now and then to look around the room. But for a second or two he’d
seen her blush before looking away to hide the telltale flush.

He sensed immediately what had occupied her mind to cause such
a reaction. He didn’t need to delve into her thoughts. Even beneath the
floral-based perfume she wore, he could smell the change in her chemistry. The
flood of pheromones into the air acted like a mating call.

A call that threatened to prod his beast from self-imposed
slumber. His stomach tightened in response. Cam swallowed, reining in his own
rising desires.

He focused instead on the would-be criminal seated across the
desk. Most humans were incapable of producing a chemical reaction intentionally.
Was she one of the few who could control another person’s response to her? Did
she realize the danger inherent in playing with inhuman beasts?

Unable to detect that level of subterfuge lurking in her
depths, he doubted if she had any control over her desires. And while he did
sense an ulterior motive for being here, he wasn’t able to sense any
acknowledgment of who—or what—he was.

How could she? She hadn’t seen him in human form—he’d doused
the lights before she could have caught anything more than the briefest glimpse.
And there was no way she’d recognize his voice. He’d spoken only a few words,
right after shifting from a dragon. His tone would have still held the lingering
rumble of the beast. It would be unrecognizable to her.

So, this interview was either a huge coincidence, or she’d been
sent here.

Cam didn’t believe in coincidences.

He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, Ariel, why
gardening?”

“I’ve always had a green thumb.” Her wandering attention once
again landed on the amethyst dragon in the corner of his office. For the
briefest second, she froze, then quickly turned back to Cam. “I like working
with my hands and living things.”

The slight tremor in her voice and the tangy scent of fear
filling the room alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t been wrong—her presence
here was no coincidence. The woman was lying to his face. She didn’t want this
position. She just wanted inside the Lair—most likely to find the items she
couldn’t locate in the workroom.

What was so important about that box and jewelry that she’d
come here? There was a significance to those items that he didn’t yet know—but
he would.

If his suspicions were right, and she was working with the
Learneds, he couldn’t risk slipping into her conscious mind for answers. Not
yet. Not until he knew for certain who she really was and her connection to
Nathan.

The Learneds would easily be able to detect his lingering
presence in her thoughts. He didn’t want them to have any warning that he knew
they were once again plotting his family’s deaths. It was imperative that he
catch them unaware.

It took less than the space of one heartbeat for him to make
the decision to offer her the job. Having her at the Lair under surveillance
would be safer for him and his family.

However, it took a few more heartbeats to calm the now fully
awakened beast. His heightened senses, along with her uncontrolled flare of
lust, had alerted the dragon sleeping inside him. And for some odd reason, the
beast found Ms. Johnson—enticing.

The last thing he needed was to be drawn to a woman who worked
with their enemy. Although, he was well aware that logic held little sway when
it came to his darker desires.

Cam tapped the folder that was still open on his desk. “I see
here that you did the greenery for the convention center in—” He leaned forward,
acting as if he needed to look up the name of the town and inhaled her scent
slowly.

While he wouldn’t risk intruding on her thoughts, there was no
hesitation to use his other—more than human—senses.

The smells of soap and floral shampoo did little to hide her
nervousness. While her scent of fear was as tangy as a freshly peeled lemon,
beneath it lay something far from bitter. He frowned to hide his surprise.

Her nervousness hadn’t caught him off guard, but the
still-lingering exotic spiced aroma of desire did. Whether Ms. Johnson was ready
to admit it to herself or not, she was attracted to him on a basic level. Even
though the attraction might be dangerous to both of them, it could also prove
useful in the future.

Cam leaned back against his chair and finished his sentence.
“Detroit…Michigan.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “They were pleased with my work.”

Pleased?
He’d been amazed that the
letter of recommendation from them hadn’t suggested Ms. Johnson be ordained. “I
gathered that much from their letter.”

She blushed and looked down at her lap. “They were a
little…overwhelming with their praise, weren’t they?”