Authors: t
accomplished.” He put the copies down. “The script will take some deciphering. Could you give me a couple of days? I know how impatient your employer gets.”
“Don’t worry about him. A Scotsman showed up who just happens to read
Gaelic.” Even now, his scent of leather and soap haunted her. “He followed me from London.”
The old man reached over and patted her arm. “You must be more careful, dear.
Are you sure his intentions are honorable?”
She rather doubted it. Those mesmerizing amber eyes had lingered on her mouth long enough for her breathing to become shallow and she’d had to fight the urge to suddenly lick her lips. But that wasn’t what the professor meant.
“He seems to be. He’s an archeologist and works for Scotland Yard as a
consultant. He provided other documentation. Mr. Smith is checking it out.”
“Ah, good.” Professor MacDonald leaned back looking relieved and then
puzzled. “But why do you want me to read this then?”
“I couldn’t not let you read it. Your love of medieval lore is as great as mine.”
She looked up as the door opened and Robert popped his head inside to acknowledge that he had arrived. “And for back-up,” Sara said as she stood to leave. “I want to make sure that Lucas—Mr. Ramsey—is telling us the truth.”
“You don’t trust him, child?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to know that there wasn’t a mistake in translation.
He read the first page and reacted a lot more strongly than you just did. And Mr. Smith is sure that the thing will reveal where the Holy Grail is hidden.”
Professor MacDonald raised a furry eyebrow. “Well. This is indeed a fine gift you’ve brought me then. Mystery and perhaps a little magic?”
She started at that, wondering if the professor had ever guessed that she was in the Sisterhood. If the translation proved to be a dire as Mr. Ramsey had made it sound, perhaps her group could do work some white magic with it.
Lucas. She smiled wanly as she let herself, thinking of Professor MacDonald’s question. Trust? It was herself she didn’t trust. Not around Lucas Ramsey.
* * * *
Nim giggled near her shoulder. “Because he looks like one!”
Sara nearly jumped. Usually she could tell when the faerie was near. This man was addling her brain. No doubt about it and she needed for it to stop. By the Goddess, her knees even felt weak just from being in the same room with him.
“Come in and sit down, Sara!” Mr. Smith was beaming from behind his desk.
“I’m delighted to tell you everything checked out with Mr. Ramsey and he’s agreed to help us!”
She could feel those golden eyes studying her even as looked around for a place to sit that wasn’t on the settee. One of the overstuffed easy chairs held an assortment of knives and daggers that her boss had meant to categorize before the document had caught his attention. As shaky as she felt, she wasn’t about to pick up knives that were sharpened on both edges. The other chair was heaped full of open boxes that contained parts to a new computer system. Too heavy and messy to move. Reluctantly she took a step toward the couch.
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 25
“I won’t bite, I promise.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and made him look even sexier.
His gaze traveled to her bare throat and she could almost hear the unspoken words:
“Unless you want me to …”
She felt her face grow warm and tugged at the spaghetti straps of her top, not that it helped. Goddess! What was happening to her? With her uncanny ability to have picked, not one but three, loser relationships in her adult life, she thought she’d become immune to men. Or at least good-looking ones who made promises with their eyes.
She lifted her head. She was an adult and she owned her own business. And she had just traveled to Europe on her own. In spite of the incident with the car and the pickpocket, she had successfully returned with the document. Surely she could handle sitting on the same piece of furniture with this man. She plopped down unceremoniously.
“That’s better,” Lucas said in that husky voice that made her think of warm
cognac. She wished she had a whole decanter full.
He picked a paper off the coffee table and handed it to her. “My credentials.”
His fingers brushed hers as she took the report and the same electric tingle shot through her, but he appeared not to notice. Fine. Maybe it’s just me. It’s been more than a year … stop it! The words on the sheet finally swam into focus.
“Everything seems to be quite in order,” she said and was surprised that her voice didn’t shake. “It will be interesting what your interpretation of the manuscript will be.”
She turned to Mr. Smith. “Professor MacDonald said he probably wouldn’t need more than two days.”
Beside her, she felt Lucas tense and his face changed subtly, its angles
sharpening. She blinked. It must have been a trick of the fading sunlight for when she looked again, he looked normal.
“There’s someone else who knows about this?” his voice was curiously flat as
though tightly controlled.
“Well, yes. An old college professor of mine who’s a medieval historian.”
“Does anyone else know you’ve given him a copy?”
“No. Why?” She thought briefly of Robert. The copy had been lying on the desk but he hadn’t really come into the room far enough to see it.
Lucas looked over to Mr. Smith. “It’s very important that no one, besides us, is even aware that this work exists.”
“The professor isn’t going to tell anyone!” Sara insisted. Poor man was in a
wheelchair and lived alone. Who would he tell?
He turned to her. “If this document says what I think it will, letting the
information get into the wrong hands could mean the destruction of civilization.”
“Please.” Sara was beginning to wonder if the man really was an actor in addition to his other lines of work. “You needn’t make it sound so melodramatic.”
Lucas’ eyes darkened and again she had the perception that his face angles
sharpened. “I wish I was being melodramatic. But I am quite serious, lass. Ye doona know what ye are getting into.”
There was the brogue again, thicker this time. She wondered about his ability to fall in and out of it. Looking into his eyes, there was no sign of mirth. They were a pale gold and steady, almost as if he were an animal weighing whether to attack.
Attack? Her imagination was really getting away on her. He was just setting the SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 26
scene to make this translation thing more intriguing. Still, the fine hair on her arms began to rise.
“Fine, then. Why don’t you start reading the document so we can all find out
when the world will collapse?”
“Sarcasm,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I deserved that.” He turned to Mr. Smith.
“I’d like to get started reading this evening, if I may.”
A troubled looked swept across Mr. Smith’s face. “I put it in my most secure safe,” he said. “It has a twenty-four-hour timer. It won’t be able to be opened until tomorrow morning.”
“Very well.” Lucas stood to leave. “What time should I return?”
“Nine o’clock,” Mr. Smith answered, “and check out of the hotel room. I’ve
plenty of guestrooms. If this is as important as you say it is, I’d rather have you here around the clock.”
Lucas considered and then nodded. “That might be a wise choice. Thank you. I doubt that I’ve been followed, but right now, I can’t be too careful.” He glanced at Sara and his tone lightened. “Do you live here, too?”
“No!” Sara said startled. “I have an apartment.”
“Perhaps it would be wise of you to stay, too, Sara,” Mr. Smith said.
She saw the little smirk on his face. Her boss loved to play matchmaker. Her latest fiasco had been someone he thought was perfect for her. If one didn’t mind finding out that the bastard was already married, but had conveniently forgotten to mention it.
“No thanks. I have … my plants to look after.”
“Plants?” Lucas arched an eyebrow.
“Yes. Orchids. They take a lot of care.” Too bad her apartment wouldn’t allow pets. That would have sounded a whole lot more convincing.
“I see,” he said gravely. “Plants can be demanding.”
So now he was being sarcastic. Well, better that than sleeping just down the hall from him. As if she’d sleep, thinking about him lying naked, draped with only a thin sheet over what was probably a shaft of memorable size. How would it feel opening her legs to him, having him stretch her …
Stop this. Haven’t you learned your lesson?
Putting space and distance between her and Lucas Ramsey was the best thing she could do. By the Goddess, she needed time to think.
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 27
When Lucas arrived at the mansion the next morning, a rental car was parked in the driveway. Frowning, he knocked on the door wondering if there was another guest.
Sara had driven away last night in Mustang convertible.
The frown left his face when he thought of her. It had been centuries since a woman had actually made every nerve ending tingle in anticipation—who was he
kidding? urgent need—of being touched by her. Just brushing against her arm had caused his groin to swell. elicited electrical sparks He was pretty sure she felt the same urge too, but for some reason, was resisting the chemistry.
Perhaps it was just as well. When he had teased her about not biting, the wolf had growled and the thought of nuzzling and nipping her bare throat had stirred deep desire.
He couldn’t help holding her gaze until she parted her lips and the tip of her tongue almost emerged. How he wanted to capture that tip while his mouth captured hers in a soul-searing deep kiss. But he also knew that when he took a woman, he must remain somewhat distracted to control the beast. Giving in to raw emotion was dangerous and he had a feeling that was the way it would be with Sara. A sudden image of her nude, legs spread wide to receive him, arching her back to take more, writhing beneath him in unbridled passion made him hard instantly. He forced the picture aside even as the wolf stirred from slumber. He couldn’t take the chance on hurting her.
Twice last night the beast had tried to break through. Once, he thought she had might have noticed for she looked startled. He simply had to concentrate on the manuscript. Stay focused.
But something about her called to him on an otherworldly level. He wondered if Sara were aware of the dormant power she possessed. And the faerie … he hadn’t seen Nimue since she’d bested Merlin in a battle of wits that left him imprisoned in a tree.
Arthur had had a devil of time convincing her that enough was enough.
The door opened, jarring him out of his thoughts. The butler inclined his head slightly. “Mr. Smith has been expecting you.”
He made it sound as though Lucas were late, which he knew he wasn’t. He
resisted looking at his watch to check. He had visited in far too many homes where butlers and seneschals tried to be intimidating.
“I’ll take your bag, Sir. Mr. Smith is in the study.”
He could hear voices as he approached the room. Male voices, not Sara’s. He
sighed, wondering how long this guest would be staying. There could be no looking at the manuscript until he left.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Ramsey!” Mr. Smith turned away from the sword wall
that he was showing his guest. “It seems that my collection of things has suddenly become more public than I thought. Mr. Caldwell, here, is interested in doing an article on my medieval weapons. And he’s from England, too. Isn’t that a coincidence?”
It certainly is. His cross burned against his chest in warning, yet his lupine senses could detect no magic from this man. Caldwell was almost as tall as Lucas, but SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 28
had a stockier build. He had the thick neck and bulky shoulders of an American football player and reminded Lucas somewhat of an army tank.
The man held out his hand. “Al Caldwell,” he said cordially, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Lucas shook hands and the fine hairs at the back of his neck began to bristle. This man was not whom he seemed to be. Before he could hone in on what he didn’t like, he heard Sara arrive.
“Mr. Ramsey, did you rent a .... ” she stopped when she saw Caldwell.
“The car is mine,” he said with a disarming smile and stepped forward to take her hand. “You must be the lovely assistant Mr. Smith told me about. I can’t believe my good luck in having access to these weapons and a beautiful woman to work with.” He bent low and brought her fingers to his lips.
Con man. Lucas’ eyes bore holes through the man’s back, but he didn’t notice.
Sara was looking flustered, but at least she withdrew her hand.
“Have we met?” she asked.
Mr. Smith hastily made the introductions. “Mr. Caldwell will need a few days to go through my authenticity papers to have the facts straight on each weapon.”
Lucas caught the questioning look in Sara’s eyes and shook his head slightly.
They would have to wait on the manuscript. She nodded imperceptibly.
“I can pull those documents,” she said and set her purse on the coffee table and walked toward the door. “Where would you like for me to put them?”
Mr. Smith frowned, apparently just realizing that Caldwell presented a dilemma.
Sweat broke out his balding forehead and he dabbed at it hastily with the linen handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Well …” then he brightened. “What about the billiard hall? It has several tables and chairs and Mr. Caldwell could spread out the paperwork. That would leave us free to look at the manu .... ”