Heiress to a Curse Page 3

  “I’ll take them in,” he offered as he picked up her bags.

  She didn’t respond immediately. Wariness flickered in her eyes. She was wise to be cautious, too. She had every reason not to trust him, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was nearly twice her size and could crush her slender frame with his bare hands. Last night the Spring Equinox had begun, and should she invite him in, she would start the process that would end in her death.

  “Thank you,” she said at last and removed her keys from her purse. “Come in.”

  She opened the door and as he crossed the threshold, victory raced through him. Was it so simple? Would his task be so easily accomplished?

  Alexandra motioned toward the countertop. “You can put them right over there, thanks.”

  He did as she asked and then turned to look at her. She appeared uncertain, and he wondered what she was thinking. Could she see beyond his facade? Did she suspect his true identity?

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” Alexandra blurted out.

  Marius’s brows raised a measure. Quickly he made his expression impassive. The last thing he’d expected was an invitation to share a meal with her. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t the softness he sensed in her eyes, or the gentle incline of her head, or the indelible image in his mind of her naked body that urged him to accept. Instead, it was the need to assure himself that she was indeed the last of her bloodline. He would glean information from her, and once he’d learned all he needed to know, he would leave.

  He offered her a subtle smile. “What are you preparing?”

  “A seafood casserole. It’s my special recipe,” she told him.

  “Then I would be delighted to stay and have dinner with you.” His attention fell to her ripe lips as they curved into a brilliant smile.

  “Great,” she said. “Just give me a few minutes to change.”

  She tossed her keys onto the counter and disappeared into her bedroom. When the door shut behind her, Marius focused his attention on his surroundings. The decor was of a contemporary style with a sprinkling of Romanian influence. A large tapestry that hung on the wall of her dining room caught his eye. He sauntered toward it, recognizing the depiction immediately.

  He could almost feel the chill of the wintry mist that was settled over the ground, smell the pungent odor of moist earth and decaying leaves that rose from the lake that he knew lay just beyond the frayed ends of the textile. It was Elburich Castle in its prime. Now, it was a vacant ruin that howled with the ghosts of its past.

  Marius inhaled softly. Alexandra had returned. Her entrancing fragrance drifted into the room to assail his senses. “You are a collector?” he asked without turning around.

  There was a brief moment of silence before her com posed response came. “No. That has been in my family for generations. It depicts a Romanian castle in the twelfth century,” she said as she moved to stand beside him. “It belonged to my mother.”

  “Do you know the name of this place?” He turned his attention to her and drank in the view of her slender form clad in a clingy velour hoodie with matching pants. Something within him stirred. It was more than the carnal wanting that had harassed him earlier. It was a need to learn more about her.

  “No,” she replied.

  Their gazes locked in an unconscious mating of intense attraction. He found himself drawn into her stare, unable to look away. She was so lovely.

  “I should start dinner,” she breathed softly. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? Some wine, juice, coffee maybe?”

  “Some wine would be fine, thank you.”

  She nodded and flashed him a hesitant smile before moving to the other side of the countertop that divided the kitchen from the dining room. There she busied herself with the task of gathering the ingredients for her casserole.

  Marius’s attention strayed to the tapestry one last time. All he could hope for now was freedom, and there was only one way to bring that about. He knew what he had to do.

  “Red or white?” Alexandra asked as she held up two bottles of wine.

  “Red,” he responded somberly.

  She nodded and popped the cork on the wine bottle, pouring him a glass. “I think I’ll have some, too. So, why did you choose to move to New York?” she asked.

  Marius accepted the glass. “It is a big city with much opportunity. I thought it would be a good place to live.”

  “Me, too. I’ve only been here for about a year. And you’re right, it is a good place to live. There’s a lot to see and do.” She strapped on an apron.

  He took a sip of the wine. “Where did you live before coming here?” he asked, seating himself on a stool.

  “Washington, D.C. I was born there and lived there all my life.” She turned away to rummage through a cupboard.

  Marius noted the perfect curve of her rear beneath the pants. With her transfixing eyes and curvaceous frame, he was hard-pressed to remind himself that she was his enemy.

  She returned to the counter with a baking pan. “I landed a great job here, so I moved.”

  “Do you have family in Washington? Brothers or sisters?”

  “My mom and dad were the only family I knew, except an aunt on my father’s side. After they died, I needed a change.” She paused. “It was hard, leaving everything I had ever known, but without my parents, there was nothing to stay for.”

  A brief silence lapsed between them.

  “How old were they?” Marius asked with sincere interest.

  She kept her eyes averted. “Mom was fifty-two and dad was fifty-eight,” she replied solemnly. “Mom wanted us all to spend the summer in Bucharest. It was her first time back there in almost twenty-seven years. She and Dad went ahead, and I was to follow a week later.” She paused, obviously blinking back tears. “They never even made it to the city. Somehow, Dad lost control of the SUV they’d rented and went off the road.”

  Marius experienced a pang of remorse, for it had been his family who’d caused the accident. And it truly had been an accident. They’d believed that Alexandra’s mother, Marciela, was the final descendent of Necesar. His clan had just begun planning her mother’s death to coincide with the next Spring Equinox. They had been surprised to learn that Marciela was returning to Romania to sell her family’s estate, especially after so many years of maintaining it. Against Lord Drakon’s wishes, several of the clan members had gone to look upon the individual who barred the way to their freedom. It was along the highway to Bucharest that Alexandra’s father had caught a glimpse of one of the gargoyles and in a panic had lost control of the vehicle.

  Devastation had spread quickly through the Drakon clan, as it had seemed their final hope for restoration had been shattered by Marciela’s early death. However, it had taken them only a few weeks to learn that there was one remaining descendant of Necesar. And thus, here he was—the bearer of Alexandra’s ill fate.

  “Would you like some more wine?” she asked, obviously trying to change the subject. “Please.”

  His gaze strayed to her face as she leaned over to refill his glass. He could tell that she suppressed much of her feelings. If it was as she said and she had no one, then she had no shoulder to cry on. Strangely, he found himself filled with the need to reach out and draw her into his arms. His father had warned him to expect cunning and deceit, but that was not part of the woman who stood before him. No one, not even the heiress to a curse, deserved to suffer alone.

  Chapter 3

  Dinner had gone amazingly well, Alexandra surmised a few nights later as she lay in bed. Her usual thing would have been to thank her new neighbor for his assistance then bid him a good evening, but April’s criticism had replayed in her mind, and she knew it would have been a sin to allow him to slip away without even trying to get to know him a little. And she was certainly glad that she had. She’d really enjoyed herself. Marius Drakon wasn’t only very appealing to look at, but he also possessed the degree of wit and intellect she craved in
a male companion.

  Of course, all that talk of her parents had left her feeling a bit embarrassed and alone. She wasn’t sure why she’d bared herself to him that way. She didn’t like talking about the deaths of her parents with anyone. On the surface, the pain had eased, but the hurt still lurked deep inside her heart.

  Marius had listened intently, and after she’d finished her sad story, they’d debated history, particularly that of Romania. Alexandra had always been intrigued by the legends and mysteries surrounding the place. Marius had proven to be quite knowledgeable about the subject, to the point where he could name all the kings in order of succession.

  His mind captivated her as much as his tall and lean body did. He exuded wisdom and absolute masculinity. She grew hot just thinking about him, and a sudden image of his powerful form pressed between her thighs flashed in her mind. An unwanted breathlessness assailed her.

  With an impious groan, she rolled onto her back, squeezing her thighs together in a vain attempt to subdue the rapidly spreading heat that seemed to emanate from her most intimate place. Silently, she scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to wander in that direction. She’d known him only a few days. Although he’d given her no reason, she felt the need to be wary of him. Something dark lurked behind those beautiful eyes, yet she feared that was the very thing that most attracted her to him.

  With a sigh, she reached onto her night table for her bottle of prescription sleeping pills. She slipped one into her mouth and, after a thought, took another. If she wanted to get any kind of sleep tonight she was going to need some additional help. The double dose worked quickly and within minutes she was falling helplessly into the world of dreams.

  Marius flexed his hand over the hilt of the fourteen-inch Romanian knife. He stood at the foot of Alexandra’s bed, legs braced and massive wings erect as he gazed down at her. After completing the first step of the ritual so effortlessly, he’d found no need to delay the second. He’d come to harvest a lock of her hair.

  She slept soundly with the sheet at her waist and entwined about her slender legs. The room was dimly lit by the street lights spilling in through the window, yet he could see every satiny inch of her naked body. His eyes devoured her, taking in the soft and ripe curves of her breasts, hips and thighs. She was perfection.

  Regardless of his efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, he felt himself swelling with desire. He couldn’t discern why she had such an effect on him, for during his many years of life, he’d seen and had some of the most beautiful of women. There was just something about Alexandra—something that called to the more primitive nature within him.

  Shaking himself, he moved to stand at the side of the bed. He would do it quickly—she wouldn’t even awaken from her sleep. His gaze crept over her a second time. Such a waste, he thought. A woman like her was every man’s dream—she was made for loving. Another surge of desire shot through him and his grip tightened on the hilt of his knife. He should be done with this task before he lost himself to witless thinking.

  He lifted a long tendril of ebony hair from the spill that covered her pillow. It was soft, weightless gossamer threads of shimmering silk. One quick flick of his blade and the smooth length fell away from the lock that remained in his hand. Carefully, he placed it within a leather pouch at his waist.

  In her sleep, Alexandra sighed softly. A flash of silver between her breasts caught his attention. She wore a small amulet attached to a rope chain. With the tip of his blade, he lifted it then took it between his fingers to examine the outline of the falcon at its center. The symbol was unmistakable, for it had haunted his family for hundreds of years; it was the Dancescu crest.

  Slowly, he replaced the amulet against her chest, his fingers grazing her soft skin. His hand lingered in that spot, gently circling the circumference of the heirloom.

  Again she sighed, her full breasts rising and falling with the effort. Marius stilled and his gaze crept back up to her face, fixing upon her lush lips. She was so enchanting. He would taste her just once before leaving.

  He placed the blade to the right of her pillow and lowered his hard mouth to graze her lips in a tender kiss. When he withdrew he noted that his pulse had quickened and his breathing was slightly labored. And what was worse, he yearned to taste her a second time. Before he could justify this desire, his head fell again, bringing his lips against hers with increased intensity.

  Alexandra groaned beneath him and her lips parted to welcome his hungry kiss. He devoured her, tasting every inch of her mouth. When her soft, wet tongue grazed the tip of his own, he retracted as if seared by hot iron.

  What vile witchery is this? The woman is intoxicating!

  Blood surged through his veins and he could feel his manhood strain against the material of his pants. With a predatory growl, he dipped again and his mouth found the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders. In her sleep she gasped, her soft breath warm against his ear.

  Marius worked his way along her shoulders then found the ripe mounds of her breasts. His fanged mouth enclosed one at a time, sucking greedily while his large, clawlike hands moved to encircle her slender waist.

  With a wanton cry, Alexandra arched from the bed, offering herself to him. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please, don’t stop.”

  With this encouragement, Marius traced a path of fiery kisses down her flat midsection. A haunting voice at the recess of his mind screamed at him and he knew he should take heed and cease this blasphemy, but it was too late. His self-control had fled and he could think of nothing save possessing the soft and beautiful woman beneath him.

  He spread her legs wide then slipped his hands beneath her rear, lifting her off the bed. He took only a moment to gaze upon her smooth softness before his mouth descended upon her hot, moist core. He ate greedily, his studded gargoyle’s tongue thrusting deep as he drank of her sweet nectar. Tender flesh began to writhe beneath him in shameless and suggestive undulation, urging him to complete his onslaught.

  He lifted her higher, allowing his tongue deeper invasion into her secrets and a moment later, her entire body began to tremble with a climatic orgasm.

  Marius fought to catch his breath. He couldn’t understand what had just happened. He’d come with only one task in mind, yet somehow he’d found himself driven to touch and taste her. Even now he battled the urge to pin her where she lay and appease the ache in his loins. He’d allowed himself to be weakened by her, his enemy. He was unworthy of the Drakon title.

  She dreamed of a sensuous heat that engulfed her, seeping in and out of her mind and body. She was helpless against it and could do nothing but succumb to the intense pleasure it offered.

  Alexandra screamed. She spread her thighs wider and arched higher off the bed as she welcomed the shuddering release. She felt herself being lowered back down and she abruptly realized that this was no dream. Her eyes flew open and her moan of pleasure quickly became a shriek. Thinking only that she needed to get away, she rolled off the bed and landed on the floor.

  The broad shadow that was crouched at the foot of her bed glared at her with fiery eyes that reflected a deep and burning passion. It rose slowly and the spill of the moonlight fell over it.

  Alexandra was rendered motionless. The creature was unlike anything her mortal mind could conjure. His face and body resembled those of a man—he was tall and powerful like the Greek gods she so loved to read about—he wore only a fitted pair of black pants that clung to his lean waist and sculpted thighs, and boots of the same foreboding hue complemented his attire. Yet, he was no man, for horns crowned his head and great wings guarded his back. Is he a demon?

  With a savage growl, the creature snatched his blade and fled through the open door and into the night.

  Had what she’d seen been real? Her heart was racing, and her trembling fingers found their way to the wet and throbbing place between her thighs. One thing was certain—she’d experienced an intense orgasm. A gust of cool night air flooded her room, lifting the shee
r drape, and she shivered. She was also certain that the glass door had been closed. Something or someone had climbed in and assaulted her while she slept.

  Still trembling, she grabbed the phone off the night table and began to dial the police, but paused before her fingers could engage the third digit. What would she tell them? That a demon had just invaded her seventh-story apartment and given her great oral sex? She hung up and dialed her psychiatrist instead.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning Alexandra was still unsure if what she’d seen had been real or some sort of twisted dream. She’d decided to keep the experience to herself, at least until her 7:00 p.m. appointment with Dr. Peters. Instead of dwelling on it, she poured herself into her work. The story on the mysterious Hyde Park fires still needed to be finished.

  She sat behind her desk and began sifting through the countless photographs and notes that she’d collected over the past two weeks. Her mind immediately began to race, its performance no doubt fueled by last night’s events. Images and words began to flash within her thoughts. She snatched a pen from her desk and began scribbling down everything she saw.

  Alexandra was about to leave her desk to follow the leads she’d obtained from the photographs when her attention was drawn to the plasma TV, mounted on the wall, that broadcasted the news during the day.

  “In Pennsylvania, the body of a female was discovered in an abandoned building early yesterday morning.” The reporter spoke somberly. “The partially decomposed corpse has been identified as twenty-seven-year-old Trish Gooding, who has been missing since last Tuesday. This murder brings the count to three within the Union City area, and detectives have concluded that it is the work of the Penn State Serial Killer.”

  Alexandra’s heart felt heavy. She didn’t understand how an individual could be so callous as to regard human life as nothing but a tool for his amusement. How could a man’s conscience allow him to snatch a young woman from her home, rape her, torture her and kill her?