Sleeping Beauty and the Demon (7 page)

She did just that. Then she handed the pistol back to him.

“During the bullet catch trick,” he explained, “the firearm is loaded with gunpowder and ragging while a bullet is stuffed inside the barrel with a ramrod. But the trick is: the ramrod takes the bullet out when it’s extracted. Therefore the bullet is never really inside the gun when it’s fired. The magician, who appears to be anxiously waiting to be shot across the stage by his assistant, hides a stooge bullet inside his mouth all the while. The shot is fired and the magician reveals the bullet he supposedly caught between his teeth to a very impressed audience.”

“So,” Rose considered, “every magic trick is just that—a clever farce? A fraudulent act meant to fool the audience?”

“Yes. Are you relieved, or disappointed?”

“I’m not sure,” she said softly.

Drago wasn’t ready to tell her that
his
illusions were real. No doubt she would flee and deem him a sinister wizard.

“But you’re so good at what you do,” she protested. “No one seems to perform their tricks better. Perhaps you’ll share one more secret.”

He stepped in again and lifted a hand to her cheek. It felt like silk against his palm. “Very well. I shall reveal one more. This one pertains to you, my dearest Rose. I wanted nothing more than to find my soul mate. And when you appeared to me in a dream, you stole my heart.”

She rasped a breath inward.

“Your astonishing beauty is unparalleled—as is the purity of your heart. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to meet someone like you.”

Dazed, she stared at him. Her eyes gleamed like the petals of an orchid. “I’m intrigued that you saw me in a dream, but that isn’t the kind of secret I was talking about.”

“I know.”

She tilted her face to the side, as if to prepare for the kiss she knew would come. When her eyes fluttered shut, Drago seized his chance. His stare shifted from the perfection of her complexion to her raspberry lips. Running a finger along the delicate bones of her jaw line, he snaked his other hand around her tiny waist and gathered her close. With a quick intake of breath, his lips came crashing down over hers for a kiss that, oddly enough, wasn’t a kiss of two strangers. Instead, it was so scorching, so intimate, and so connected, it felt as though they’d known each other forever.

Desiring to possess every inch of her, Drago used his tongue to invade her sweet mouth. It twisted and turned with hers in hasty fervor—and he found that she tasted more delicious than he remembered melted caramel tasting . . . more savory than the finest cut of meat.

Driven by his pent-up lust, he gripped the exposed nape of her neck, damp with perspiration. And as he plundered her mouth, he felt grateful that Rose hadn’t withdrawn from him. In fact, she seemed to relish their burning chemistry.

He pressed his abdomen forward, certain that she could feel the uncontrollable jut of his shaft. Her firm but curvaceous body responded by heaving forward. Their tongues made contact and entangled again—stoking the fire that’d ignited between them.

Rose moaned against Drago’s mouth before she drew away, gasping for air. With cheeks flushed beneath the tendrils that had escaped her coif, she looked embarrassed. “I can’t believe I allowed you to kiss me like that.”

“I hope it wasn’t unpleasant,” he said.

She put her gloved fingertips to her mouth.

“I, for one, will never regret kissing you, Rose. You’re very special to me.” He took her hand away from her face and raised it to his lips. Kissing one finger and then another, he offered her a smile.

She didn’t return it. “You scare me when you talk like that.”

Regardless of her mesmerized state, it’s obvious she maintains a degree of self-will.

“Please forgive me,” Drago said solemnly. “Frightening you was never my intention. It’s just that your beauty makes it difficult for me to resist you.”

She pulled her hand from his grasp and plucked her wrap off the table.

“I hope you’ll agree to see me again,” he said.

“I . . . I don’t know,” she paused. “It’s late and I have to go.”

“I’ll see you safely home,” he replied, hoping that despite her self-consciousness, he’d gotten a little closer to capturing her heart.

CHAPTER 10

T
he more Rose reflected on her encounter with Drago, the more she wanted to burst. Giddy and guilty at the same time, she simply had to tell someone about the kiss they’d shared last week. Titillating—and so deliciously sexual—she swore it stole her innocence away.

“Olivia,” she said in a rolling gush, “I need to tell you something.”

Olivia, who was brushing her teeth at the vanity, nodded.

“I let Drago kiss me.”

Olivia nearly choked on her paste. “Are you mad, Rose? The fact that you snuck out to have dinner with a stranger was bad enough, but allowing him to kiss you?”

“I didn’t sneak out to have dinner with him.”

The petite brunette rinsed her mouth before she swung around and placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, you did. Anthony told me.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Anthony! He has it out for me lately.”

“He cares, that’s all.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Rose leaned against the wall and fondled the thick braid hanging over her shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t have agreed to meet Drago that night, but I couldn’t resist.”

Olivia cocked her head to the side. “You keep saying that.”

“It’s time I showed you what he gave me the first night I met him.” Rose straightened up. “Come closer.”

Olivia did and Rose unclasped the top three buttons of her nightgown to reveal the Egyptian amulet.

“It’s beautiful,” Olivia said. “But why are you showing it to me now?”

“I think Drago used it to hypnotize me.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“Gracious, Rose! Do you know what you’re getting yourself into with this man?”

“You don’t understand,” she replied with an eerie quality to her voice. “I feel commanded by him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely. The worst part is he makes me want to do such dirty things—and then I feel guilty about it.”

“Listen to me.” Olivia took both of Rose’s hands. “You’re not under a spell. You’re just infatuated. You need to forget about this mysterious magician. No one seems to know anything about him. It’s as if he appeared in New York City from another galaxy.”

Rose smiled. “He’s not from another galaxy. He’s from Romania, where he left all of his friends and family behind. He’s thirty years old and his favorite author is Alexandre Dumas. As is mine. So you see? He’s hardly a stranger to me.”

Olivia exhaled with frustration. “He’s practically an old man!” “He is not,” Rose protested.

“Anthony used his position in the police force to look into Starkov’s background.” Olivia said. “Do you know what he came up with?”

“What?” After Rose pinned her braid into a chignon, she walked to her wardrobe.

“Nothing,” she heard Olivia call out from behind her. “He came up with nothing. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Not at all.” She shrugged as she pulled out her clothes. “Drago admitted that he comes from humble beginnings. Perhaps he wanted to make a fresh start here in the States. Besides, lots of documents fail to come through Ellis Island.”

“Forget Starkov’s lack of credentials and forget his good looks,” Olivia pleaded. “Isn’t there something else about him that frightens you?”

Rose stopped in the middle of getting dressed and turned to Olivia. “There
is
something odd about him. He speaks as though he’s from a different century. And when he kissed me, I felt the earth move. How does he
do
that?”

“Forget your libido for a minute.” Olivia continued to protest. “He doesn’t seem normal, Rose.”

“Maybe not,”—Rose’s expression turned solemn—“but I think he can help me with my curse.”

That silenced Olivia.

For her job interview, Rose chose a fashionable apricot day dress with a mini-train and a braided collar. A fitted jacket and matching gloves completed the ensemble.

After she dressed, she looked at Olivia. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but Drago shared one of his illusions with me last week.”

Olivia’s eyes brightened. “Tell me all about it!”

She shook her head. He hadn’t sworn her to secrecy, but Rose didn’t wish to betray his trust. “I can’t tell you more than that, but the point is: Drago isn’t a warlock or a sorcerer of the dark arts. He swears there’s an explanation for every trick he performs.”

“Do you really think there is?”

“Yes.”

Olivia sighed. “It seems you’ve got it bad for him, Rose. If I can’t talk you out of avoiding him, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Grateful that Olivia cared so much, she gave her a smile. “I promise. Now, how do I look for my interview at the paper?”

“Very professional.
The Gotham Times
will be lucky to have you as a journalist’s assistant.”

“Richard Bellum is interviewing me himself. Turns out he needs a helper. I only hope I’ll be promoted to bona fide reporter someday.”

“You know you don’t have to work at the newspaper. My father offered you a post in his import company.”

“And it was very generous of him. But I think I’ll leave the pasta business to the true Italians.” Rose laughed. “Besides, you know me better than anyone. I’ve always been a truth seeker. Do you remember when Frank Del Gado stole your lunch sack in fourth grade and said he didn’t?”

Olivia giggled, too. “Of course I remember. You investigated his whereabouts, interviewed the other children, and didn’t give up until you got him to admit he was guilty.”

“Exactly. And I’ve used those skills to research Richard Bellum. Let’s see.” She ticked off the facts with her fingers. “He’s worked for the newspaper for three years, is an avid collector of historic artifacts, and smokes like a fiend.”

“Well done!” Olivia clapped her hands together. “Now you need to uncover more about Dragomir Starkov.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “That may be more challenging.”

“Best of luck,” Olivia said. Glancing down at the clock pendant pinned to her blouse, she gave a little start. “Now off you go! The Printing House Square isn’t close by and you don’t want to be late for your interview.”

Rose hastened into the bright daylight and considered her conversation with Olivia. She was honest when she promised Olivia she would be careful. On the other hand, she lied when she claimed Drago didn’t frighten her.

The worst part was she yearned for more of his magical wiles.

Drago awoke with the taste of Rose on his lips. Moonlight streamed through the cracks of the dark curtains and he wondered if he’d been too bold with her in his workshop last week. Had he scared her off with his forwardness? But wasn’t that impossible? She was, after all, under his spell.

What she couldn’t have faked were her moans of delight when he kissed her. Furthermore, he could read her body language. She was ready to become a woman. And his kiss had set her every sense aflame.

To win her over, Drago decided he must do something about her beau, Patrick O’Leary. He’d known about Patrick before, but he’d feigned ignorance at dinner. He wanted to hear what Rose had to say about her ardent suitor.

Drago pulled himself out of bed and reached for his tuxedo. No doubt this Patrick was a man with many allies—so Drago needed to be careful.

I won’t allow any real harm to come to him
.

After all, the young man was innocent enough. Still, Drago could certainly arrange for the policeman to become disenchanted with Rose. How?
By convincing naïve O’Leary that she has become interested in me instead
.

It was deceptive, yes . . . but the burning need to have Rose was an utmost priority. It pulsated through his veins like an insane craving.

As the newly-married Greek couple next door broke into one of their heated arguments, Drago shaved. Every line and groove of his own face was familiar . . . even memorized. Yet his inability to cast a reflection bothered him to no end. He was tired of paying barbers to cut his hair in the latest, ridged style, away from the mirror, during closed hours.

Once he finished dressing, he splashed cologne over his cheeks and smoothed his hair with a palm-f of pomade. Then he exited his ninth-floor apartment. As he galloped down the stairs, he wondered what kind of man Rose desired
emotionally.
It was something he was looking forward to discovering.

Stepping out of the building, he joined the bustling pedestrians as they moved along the sidewalk. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that if he concentrated hard enough, he could literally compel Rose to come to tonight’s show. And this time he would urge her to bring her unknowing suitor.

CHAPTER 11

“W
hat would you like to do this evening to celebrate your getting hired at the paper?” Patrick asked, his green eyes full of pride at her accomplishment.

“Maybe we should celebrate here,” she replied.

While Rose sat with Patrick in the Marconis’ parlor, the aroma of sizzling garlic reached them from the kitchen. She was about to rise and help Elena prepare dinner when a strange sensation washed over her. She put a hand to her temple.

Come to the theater district,
a voice commanded.
Bring Patrick with you.

“What on earth?” she said sharply.

Patrick grasped her hand. “What’s wrong?

Do as I say, Rose.

“There is it again,” she cried.

“What?” Patrick look perplexed.

Rose quickly shook her head. He wouldn’t believe she’d heard a voice, so she decided not to tell him. While Patrick sat there studying her face, an internal war pulled her in opposite directions. She wanted to see Drago’s show, but she knew it might be dangerous. Yet, in the end, the stronger force got the upper hand.

“Patrick, since you’re always saying you’d like to take me out, I’ve changed my mind,” she broached the subject as best she could.

Confusion shadowed his face.

“Tonight I’d like you to escort me to the magic show Olivia and I attended on my birthday.”