Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(35)

“Tell the gel she must come with me,” Mrs. P demanded of Rowan. “I cannot make the trip alone. It is too dangerous. Too many people want my offering.”

Rowan looked startled.

I asked, “Your what now?”

“My offering.” She gestured toward her chest. “It is for my beau. Without it, we can’t be together. And I can’t give it to him without a guide taking me to him.”

“Mrs. P…” I sat silent for a moment, helpless against her fantasies. Clearly some sort of dementia was beginning to grip her, despite the fact that she’d been unusually prescient about my true origins. But this was just beyond me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“She can’t go with you,” Rowan said quickly, and gave a little embarrassed cough. “That is, I got the last available cabin. There won’t be any more available. And I would be more than happy to guide you.”

I looked at him with wonder and a wee bit of suspicion. Why was he being so helpful all of a sudden? And did he just try to get me out of the picture?

Hurt pierced deep and hot, but I pushed that aside to try to think rationally about the situation. Did Rowan’s sudden offer have something to do with this ring he was so interested in? Surely he couldn’t have nefarious plans for it, not after we’d spent such a wonderful time together. And he seemed as much into me as I was in him…

Slowly, my gaze dropped, a sick feeling in my stomach.

Had he used me just to get in a position where he could rob Mrs. P?





Eight




Rowan was panicked, good and simple. Here he thought he’d been one step ahead of Sophea by booking the last available cabin on the ship, and now Mrs. P was demanding that Sophea be included in the trip.

Dammit, he had had a hard enough time sneaking into Mrs. P’s room without having to contend with a watchful Sophea, not to mention one who, if she learned the truth about the ring, might very well take it for her own purposes.

His brain came to a screeching halt at that idea. As if Sophea—warm, wonderful, giving Sophea—would do something so heinous. He might have had suspicions of her at first, but not now, not when he knew just what a wonderful woman she was.

One who made him hard just thinking about her.

He crossed his legs and thought strenuously for a few minutes about the plight of the Incas under the rule of the conquistadors.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Sophea said, and for a moment, Rowan had forgotten the direction of the conversation. Sophea’s voice sounded choked.

It was on his lips to ask her what was wrong when she continued.

“Mrs. P evidently has some super fancy suite, and I’m sure that means it has more than one bed. But the fact is that I was hired to bring her here, not take the cruise with her. And certainly not guide her. I don’t know the first thing about the Egyptian sites.” She glanced at a clock on the nightstand. “Although Akbar is due to pick us up in an hour for a trip to the pyramids, so I suppose I’ll learn something there.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather be home where the weather isn’t into triple digits during the day and the company is more congenial than a bunch of elderly tourists,” he said, feeling his powers of persuasion lacking. “I know I would much rather be at home where I could continue my research rather than be here.”

“Oh?” She seemed to be avoiding catching his eye. For some reason, she was hurt by that, wondering if he’d inadvertently slighted her. Her nose wrinkled in a way that he found utterly adorable. “Then why are you going on the cruise if you’d rather be elsewhere?”

“It’s part of a job I have to do,” he said after several awkward seconds of silence. “Not one I want to conduct but unfortunately, necessary.”

“Huh,” she said, studying her hands.

Rowan felt like a heel lying to her in that manner, but he didn’t want to ask her what was wrong when she had her hands full with Mrs. P.

Later, he promised himself, his body reacting to the idea of spending the night with her. Later he would get the source of her suddenly unhappy mien. Except… later he would be on a ship, and she would be going back home.

And that thought filled him with the morose satisfaction that everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

Except Sophea. She was the one bright, shining delight in the hellish nightmare his life had become, a delight he wasn’t going to allow to be harmed. “If you’re worried about Mrs. P’s safety, I can assure you that I’ll keep a very close eye on her,” he reassured her.

“But you are not a dragon,” Mrs. P said fretfully.

“No, but I can keep you safe.”

“I must have a dragon. Only a dragon can face the challenges and keep my shiny safe.” Mrs. P fretted with the material of her blouse.

“Well…” Sophea bit her lower lip in thought, and Rowan was aware of yet another surge of blood to his nether regions. Quickly, he thought of various methods of medieval torture. Once he had his desires under control, he chided himself for having such an instant reaction to Sophea.

He’d have to be a saint not to be affected by her, he told himself by way of excuse for what appeared to be a permanent erection. He casually picked up a throw pillow and laid it on his lap.

Dammit, it wasn’t his fault if she was a temptress, a silken-skinned, desirable temptress. Perhaps it was her innocence that appealed to him or the fact that she needed a mentor, one who could teach her what world she had been born into. Or the need to shelter her, to protect her from the harshness of the world that she’d had all too much experience with. Then again, it might be the purity that wrapped around her like a cloak. She wasn’t tainted by tragedy, as he was. She was wholesome and intriguing, and very, very feminine. And he very much wished he was buried in her right at that moment.