Dragon Storm
Page 19
“No, all I need to do is hold the ring, the talisman that you stole, and unmake the curse. But I do need to examine it first.”
“How long will that take?” he asked, frowning slightly.
I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “As long as it needs. Normally I’d like a few days, but since you’re being Rushy McRusherton about the whole thing, I’ll try to pick out the best unmaking path as I go along.” I glanced around, then took him by the wrist and pulled him away from the windows, into the darkest part of the room. I gestured to the floor, and sat on my knees, my hands on my thighs, as I tried to clear my mind.
“Why are you taking me here?” he asked, sitting down with his feet flat on the floor, and knees bent. Beside us, the dark mahogany wood of the bar, shaped like a U, hid us from the sunlight streaming in from the bank of windows.
“Because the bar blocks the light.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to be where you can see?”
“Not in this case.” I shook out my hands, closing my eyes for a few seconds while I attuned myself with the part of my brain that was so very good at unraveling knots and mazes. “Since the curse is bound to all dragons, the pattern of it will be visible on your body. Faint, but visible, and oddly enough, the darker our surroundings, the easier it’ll be for me to see. Okay, I think I’m ready.”
He watched with interest as I opened my eyes and leaned forward onto my hands, my gaze focused on his shirt. “What is it you seek to find?”
“A curse,” I said absently, my eyes narrowing to try to catch the glimmer of the curse that I knew must show on him if I looked at it just right, “can take many shapes, but they all resemble Celtic knots, some more intricate than others, but that’s what they remind me of. Drat.”
I sat back, rubbing my lower lip as I thought.
“What is drat?” He looked down at himself. “I do not see any stains or other markings, although the wrinkles are due to you forcing me into the portal—”
“I’m not dratting your shirt. I’m dratting the fact that I can’t see the curse shining through the material. Um. This is going to sound a bit crazy—”
“I will take it off,” he said quickly, pulling his shirt off over his head, a suitably wicked glint to his eyes.
I blinked for a moment at the sight of his chest, all glorious with soft, golden hair, swells of pectorals that suddenly made my mouth feel dry, on down to the thick layers of muscles that lay just beneath soft, satiny skin.
“Can you see it now?”
“Hrm?”
“Perhaps you need to be closer to see.” His voice was almost a purr.
I shivered a little, and swallowed a couple of times, telling myself to stop being so silly. I’d seen bare-chested men before, even handsome bare-chested men. There was no reason to find my mind wandering down a path where I got to touch all that chest with my fingers and lips and even my own naked chest… “What?”
“You’ll be able to see better if you are closer,” he repeated, and this time I got caught up in the heat simmering in the depths of his eyes. That and his voice, which hummed inside me, making me feel warm and needy.
And then I realized that I was guilty of ogling the man, outright ogling him (accompanied by the almost overwhelming desire to lick and touch and taste), and I had to remind myself that I was a professional Charmer, and he was a cursed man, and just because he was so sexy he could drive a saint to distraction, it didn’t mean I had to give in.
“Sorry, was just, uh, communing with my inner self. That’s what we Charmers do when we see a chest. Er… curse. Yes, curse. So. Let’s take a look at yours.”
“I thought that’s what you were already doing,” he said, his golden brown eyebrows arching in a way that I found highly seductive. “Where is this curse? I cannot see anything.”
“Not everyone can.” I gave myself another mental reprimand at finding eyebrows alluring, and leaned forward again to try to find the pattern of the curse on his torso. At first I saw nothing but his delectable chest, but out of the corner of my eye, a little black curve flashed into being for a moment before fading away. I scooted forward, and squinted again. “I thought I saw one of the twisted edges… no, it’s gone now.”
Constantine rubbed a hand down his chest, and at first I thought he was deliberately attempting to arouse me, but his eyes had lost their simmering heat look, and were now filled with genuine curiosity. “What does the curse look like? Why can’t I see it if I am one of the dragons cursed by it?”
“Like I said, not everyone can see curses, not even those affected by it.” I clicked my tongue against my teeth in frustration. Every time I thought I had a glimpse of the curse, it faded to nothing. “I hate to ask this—I assure you that I do so in the strictest professional sense—but would you mind if I got closer?”
The corners of his mouth curled in a way that sent a little zing of pleasure through me. “I invited you to do so twice.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Just a few minutes ago.” The heat was back in his eyes, making me feel like I was sitting in the full sun on the middle of the equator. At noon.
“Oh. I… uh… must have missed that.” I cleared my throat, which was strangely tight. “My interest is purely professional, I assure you.”
His smile grew and he moved his legs so they formed a V, then gestured at his chest. “Many women have sought to touch me and tease me, but none have ever done so professionally.” He thought for a moment. “Well, there was a harlot in Alsace, but that was in the year 1430, and she refused remuneration the following morning.”
“No one likes a braggart,” I said, a bit breathless despite the fact that I had sternly told myself to ignore the lovely, warm, slightly spicy scent that seemed to drift up from his bare chest. Nor would I look at his eyes. Or his shoulders. Or even, heaven help me, the thighs on either side. Feeling as if my clothing was suddenly several sizes too small, I knee-walked forward until I was between his legs, my nose now a scant inch away from his gloriously naked upper parts.
“I do not need to brag. My past speaks for itself.” He took a deep breath, causing his chest to rise and bump against my nose. For a second, I thought seriously of turning my head slightly and licking the pert little nipple that resided in the soft golden-brown hair. Instead, I tipped my head back and glared at him. “Stop that. And don’t deny you did it on purpose, because I know you did. Just sit there and let me try to find this curse.”
“How long will that take?” he asked, frowning slightly.
I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “As long as it needs. Normally I’d like a few days, but since you’re being Rushy McRusherton about the whole thing, I’ll try to pick out the best unmaking path as I go along.” I glanced around, then took him by the wrist and pulled him away from the windows, into the darkest part of the room. I gestured to the floor, and sat on my knees, my hands on my thighs, as I tried to clear my mind.
“Why are you taking me here?” he asked, sitting down with his feet flat on the floor, and knees bent. Beside us, the dark mahogany wood of the bar, shaped like a U, hid us from the sunlight streaming in from the bank of windows.
“Because the bar blocks the light.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to be where you can see?”
“Not in this case.” I shook out my hands, closing my eyes for a few seconds while I attuned myself with the part of my brain that was so very good at unraveling knots and mazes. “Since the curse is bound to all dragons, the pattern of it will be visible on your body. Faint, but visible, and oddly enough, the darker our surroundings, the easier it’ll be for me to see. Okay, I think I’m ready.”
He watched with interest as I opened my eyes and leaned forward onto my hands, my gaze focused on his shirt. “What is it you seek to find?”
“A curse,” I said absently, my eyes narrowing to try to catch the glimmer of the curse that I knew must show on him if I looked at it just right, “can take many shapes, but they all resemble Celtic knots, some more intricate than others, but that’s what they remind me of. Drat.”
I sat back, rubbing my lower lip as I thought.
“What is drat?” He looked down at himself. “I do not see any stains or other markings, although the wrinkles are due to you forcing me into the portal—”
“I’m not dratting your shirt. I’m dratting the fact that I can’t see the curse shining through the material. Um. This is going to sound a bit crazy—”
“I will take it off,” he said quickly, pulling his shirt off over his head, a suitably wicked glint to his eyes.
I blinked for a moment at the sight of his chest, all glorious with soft, golden hair, swells of pectorals that suddenly made my mouth feel dry, on down to the thick layers of muscles that lay just beneath soft, satiny skin.
“Can you see it now?”
“Hrm?”
“Perhaps you need to be closer to see.” His voice was almost a purr.
I shivered a little, and swallowed a couple of times, telling myself to stop being so silly. I’d seen bare-chested men before, even handsome bare-chested men. There was no reason to find my mind wandering down a path where I got to touch all that chest with my fingers and lips and even my own naked chest… “What?”
“You’ll be able to see better if you are closer,” he repeated, and this time I got caught up in the heat simmering in the depths of his eyes. That and his voice, which hummed inside me, making me feel warm and needy.
And then I realized that I was guilty of ogling the man, outright ogling him (accompanied by the almost overwhelming desire to lick and touch and taste), and I had to remind myself that I was a professional Charmer, and he was a cursed man, and just because he was so sexy he could drive a saint to distraction, it didn’t mean I had to give in.
“Sorry, was just, uh, communing with my inner self. That’s what we Charmers do when we see a chest. Er… curse. Yes, curse. So. Let’s take a look at yours.”
“I thought that’s what you were already doing,” he said, his golden brown eyebrows arching in a way that I found highly seductive. “Where is this curse? I cannot see anything.”
“Not everyone can.” I gave myself another mental reprimand at finding eyebrows alluring, and leaned forward again to try to find the pattern of the curse on his torso. At first I saw nothing but his delectable chest, but out of the corner of my eye, a little black curve flashed into being for a moment before fading away. I scooted forward, and squinted again. “I thought I saw one of the twisted edges… no, it’s gone now.”
Constantine rubbed a hand down his chest, and at first I thought he was deliberately attempting to arouse me, but his eyes had lost their simmering heat look, and were now filled with genuine curiosity. “What does the curse look like? Why can’t I see it if I am one of the dragons cursed by it?”
“Like I said, not everyone can see curses, not even those affected by it.” I clicked my tongue against my teeth in frustration. Every time I thought I had a glimpse of the curse, it faded to nothing. “I hate to ask this—I assure you that I do so in the strictest professional sense—but would you mind if I got closer?”
The corners of his mouth curled in a way that sent a little zing of pleasure through me. “I invited you to do so twice.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Just a few minutes ago.” The heat was back in his eyes, making me feel like I was sitting in the full sun on the middle of the equator. At noon.
“Oh. I… uh… must have missed that.” I cleared my throat, which was strangely tight. “My interest is purely professional, I assure you.”
His smile grew and he moved his legs so they formed a V, then gestured at his chest. “Many women have sought to touch me and tease me, but none have ever done so professionally.” He thought for a moment. “Well, there was a harlot in Alsace, but that was in the year 1430, and she refused remuneration the following morning.”
“No one likes a braggart,” I said, a bit breathless despite the fact that I had sternly told myself to ignore the lovely, warm, slightly spicy scent that seemed to drift up from his bare chest. Nor would I look at his eyes. Or his shoulders. Or even, heaven help me, the thighs on either side. Feeling as if my clothing was suddenly several sizes too small, I knee-walked forward until I was between his legs, my nose now a scant inch away from his gloriously naked upper parts.
“I do not need to brag. My past speaks for itself.” He took a deep breath, causing his chest to rise and bump against my nose. For a second, I thought seriously of turning my head slightly and licking the pert little nipple that resided in the soft golden-brown hair. Instead, I tipped my head back and glared at him. “Stop that. And don’t deny you did it on purpose, because I know you did. Just sit there and let me try to find this curse.”
