Heiress to a Curse

Chapter 2

Marius remained in the entryway of his new apartment long after the door across the hall slammed shut. The image of the woman called Alexandra—the woman he’d been sent to kill—remained in his mind. He’d been hard-pressed to take his eyes from her, for she’d looked even lovelier than she had the night before. The shadows had deftly hidden the sleek lines of her face—a straight and regal nose that was befitting her lineage, long feathery lashes and soft, pouting lips. She was beautiful.

He’d noted that his mention of being Romanian had drawn her attention, and rightly it should have. Romania had been her home once, some five hundred years past. Her curious hazel eyes had reflected no knowledge of this. Instead, a gentle and honest nature had become apparent. And something more—strength, and a silent beckoning that oddly, he felt the urge to explore. It was hard to believe that behind those alluring pools lurked the presence of the witch Necesar.

Sometime in the early evening, while he was unpacking a set of two-hundred-year-old books, he heard a soft cry and a thud. He opened the door of his apartment and was surprised to find Alexandra on all fours in the middle of the carpeted hall, gathering packages of shredded cheese, shrimp and fresh parsley that littered the floor around her. A small, pink cat toy that lay a few feet behind her was the obvious culprit of her misstep.

“Mr. Winston and his damned cats,” she grumbled a second before she realized that she was no longer alone. Slowly, she turned her head toward him. “Hello,” she said with a pained expression.

“Good evening,” Marius returned, his gaze coming to rest upon her rear.

A wave of heat surged through him, and the muscles of his jaw tightened as he attempted to tame the carnal urge that was rising within.

Alexandra sat up quickly and adjusted her dress. “I hope I didn’t disturb you,” she said, tucking a lock of ebony hair behind an ear. “I just returned from the grocery store and didn’t watch where I was going.”

“No, you did not,” he replied before moving forward to assist her.

With a few deft movements, her grocery bags were repacked. He stood and extended a hand to her, noticing a brief hesitation before she placed her fingers in his. She had soft hands, delicate and smooth—a lady’s hands. He wondered if the rest of her was just as delightful and defied the urge to dip his gaze into her exposed cleavage.

“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 composed 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.