Alanna was beginning to realize, really truly realize, Gregori wasn’t going anywhere. A strange sense of comfort crept in to the vacancy her departing anger had created. She looked about the room and grudgingly admitted she’d never envisaged doing so much with her studio. It was the epitome of elegance. The man definitely had style.
She held out her glass for a top-up and changed tack. “This is your own wine, you said?”
Gregori poured the rich pink liquid into her glass. “I did. I have several large vineyards that produce a range of commercial vintages, but this particular bottle is from my private collection and has been made using traditional methods. It’s only for special occasions with those I deem worthy enough.”
Wow. What flattery. “And this is a special occasion because … ?”
“Three things. My ensorcellment is over. Marylebone are allowing me freedom for now and I’m sitting here with you, a beautiful, fiery-natured witch.” He dark eyes glinted with something unspoken. “What more could a warlock want?”
Alanna felt her color rise. He definitely wanted more than those three things. “I should be flattered, but trusting a Dragon I know nothing about leaves me deeply suspicious of your motives. You could stay anywhere and yet you choose my little studio.”
Gregori’s lips thinned, his displeasure obvious. “I’ll not touch you without your permission, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
“I’m afraid of what you represent.”
“I represent Marylebone. I’m a warlock. I’m also a Dragon. Senior to both Aden and Goran. I would already be ensorcelled again if they thought I was a real danger to you or anyone else.”
“I’m not afraid of Marylebone. I’m afraid of the reason they ensorcelled you in the first place? I’m afraid of the reason you insist on being with me rather than returning home to your precious vineyard.”
He paused and studied her so intently she felt herself squirm. Eventually he spoke. “That’s not all you’re afraid of?”
Her stomach wanted to revolt yet once again. Unable to drink another drop she banged the exquisite crystal glass on the table, mindless of its quality or value. “I don’t have to discuss anything with you. I want you gone.”
“I will be soon if I fail in my mission.”
He appeared disappointed with her. “What is your mission?”
Gregori paused. He seemed to consider whether or not to answer, and his reply left her reeling. “Tell me about the accident.”
The question came out of nowhere and her stomach threatened to dispense its contents as she fought to control the hammering of her heart against her ribs. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, not knowing what to do, which way to move. “Accident?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“You can be so obstinate.”
“And you’re surprised?”
He huffed. “No. Predictable.”
Now that was an insult. “You hardly know me. How can you make such a judgment when we’ve only just met?” She prided herself on not being the slightest bit predictable.
“It’s what I know.”
“Then you don’t know much! I don’t ever talk about it.” She didn’t bother to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Not to anyone.”
“Which isn’t healthy. You need to be able to talk about these things. How else will you get over it?”
A fierce anger was beginning to roil in her heart and her blood pressure spiked. “Don’t you dare tell me how I need to deal with my own demons. They’re mine. I deal with them the best way I know how. And I’m over it, as you so succinctly put it.”
“Admitting you have inner demons says it all. And what if I said your way isn’t the best, and that I can see you are not over it.”
“I’d say you’ve stepped over the line and I want you out of my studio.” She gestured to the door. “Get out. Go away. Don’t come back!”
He stood his ground. “Everyone needs an outlet. I’m offering that to you.”
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought she’d seen compassion flicker in his eyes. She wanted to swear obscenities at him. If he didn’t watch out she might just slap that oh, so knowing attitude off his face. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”
“Tell me about the accident.”
Perspiration broke out on her brow. Panic kicked her gut into overdrive, making her feel internally shaky. He was forcing her to recall things she didn’t want to. There was no way she wanted to speak about any of it. Too painful. Too … too hurtful. Too … too …
“Why? Is that why you’re here?” A terrible wave of foreboding washed over her. An image of a long forgotten memory coalesced in her mind. Gregori peering down at her, asking if she was all right. Was she? The image was elusive and as he spoke it dissolved before she could take hold and make sense of it.
If only the emotions in her heart were as ethereal.
Her breathing was shallow. She didn’t seem to be able to draw in enough oxygen. She was going to throw up. She felt the color drain from her cheeks. She slapped a hand over her mouth and pushed past him and ran towards the bathroom.
“Leave me alone. I’m not talking about it.” She made it just in time. Falling to her knees, she hugged the toilet bowl and retched as a steady torrent of tears ran unheeded down her cheeks and neck.
• • •
The confrontational approach didn’t work. Gregori hesitated at the bathroom door. It had been a long time since he actually cared about someone. Yes, he had Eleisha and Anton and a handful of close friends, but he’d learned to keep his heart secure and devoid of emotional entanglements for so long he was rarely moved by human emotions anymore.
Once he’d sensed his tenuous link to Alanna at her birth, he’d stopped flirting with women. He’d been waiting, knowing a soul mate would be worth the sacrifice of not having someone in his bed to warm him and to fill all those lonely nights. But that didn’t mean he had to care more than he needed to. But seeing Alanna’s distress caused an uncommon tug in the region where his heart used to reside.
Their future didn’t bode well if he couldn’t convince her of his trust. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to hand over the balance of his increasing power to Alanna before he could prove his innocence to Marylebone and the Supreme Council. But he did care and he would need to do just that in order to survive.
Getting Alanna to accept him as a permanent presence in her life was going to be a major difficulty. And how could he do that when deep down inside, she was a frightened little girl, afraid of the past, afraid of what the truth of those repressed memories might reveal.
He found himself crouching down and murmuring soothing words to her. He patted her gently on the back and bunched her wild red tendrils away from her face in one hand. “This is what repressing emotions can do. Talk to me.”
Alanna shook her head, incapable of speech. The tears continued to fall. Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she looked up into his eyes and he saw such anguish, such awful despair, that his heart squeezed and he felt her pain just as acutely as she.
Despite his need to know more, he allowed her time to calm down and for the tears to stop their waterfall slide down her cheeks.
Even then, he found he could not add to her distress. He rose, picked up a clean face cloth, warmed it through under the tap, wrung it out and handed it to her.
She pressed the cloth against her eyes before wiping her mouth. “Do you think you could get me a glass of water?”
So polite. He acknowledged to himself he wasn’t going to learn any more today. If he’d learned anything in the past few hours in her company, she was rarely polite. His question had definitely struck a nerve. She’d retreated into a fragile emotional shell he wagered few had ever seen.
Gregori conjured a glass of water. Alanna took it from him, and facing the mirror, she picked up her toothbrush and began to clean her teeth.
She was sad and bedraggled but when she looked up their gaze met in the mirror and held. He felt the tenuous link between them grow a little stronger. The slight flare in her eyes told him she, too, had felt it.
A grunt of satisfaction passed his lips. “Whether you like it or not,” he said bluntly, “I’m here for you. But in order for us to mate, you’re going to have to let me into all the dark corners of your mind. Binding with me will not work unless you do. Don’t deny you know this. You know I speak the truth.”
She shook her head and rinsed her mouth. He handed her a towel. Their fingers touched and a tingle of awareness flowed up his arm. The desire to be with her tugged at his core, and his body tightened in response. But she was scared, frightened, and he would not alarm her further. Not today, at any rate.
Tomorrow, he would broach the subject of her parents again. If she knew something, then that very same something could well be the thing that would prevent him from failing to meet what the Bells of Marylebone had decreed; that he must bind his life and magic with Alanna’s in the next two weeks, or his life would be forfeit.
Perhaps that was why his hunt earlier had eventually led him back to her studio. He had found nothing following any of the travelers driving down the old road this morning. His instinct, honed from thousands of years, told him the answers were here, in the studio.
He studied Alanna and wondered what memories held her emotionally shut off from the world? What could make her so afraid? She’d built a shell of indifference to the world in her heart and head, with no reflection of that indifference shining in her aura at all. She didn’t realize just how special she was. Very few could control their own aura.
She’d fooled everyone. Everyone except him.