Legend of the Sorcerer Page 5

  And it had been Malacai L’Baan that had drawn it forth. Or, more specifically, her fascination with him that had.

  She didn’t care. She needed something to get her started, to break down the walls that two years of facing demoralizing, painful realities had built up.

  She’d begun by teasing herself with the sweep of his jaw, the finely curved lips and the high formality of his forehead. She ran her forefinger over the sharply drawn lines of his cheek, then the loose strands of hair that danced around his face, just like they did in the constant tropical breeze.

  The next image had come at her from nowhere. Fully realized and more completely detailed than her regular work, it had overwhelmed her. Once she started, she’d been totally immersed in it, the pen moving faster and faster.

  She paused before turning the page. What if, in the light of day, it was awful? Her fingers tensed. She stared at it, the drawing that had flowed from her like a torrent. God, how long had it been since she’d felt that rush?

  It was all she remembered and more.

  The first image to emerge had been a gargoyle, not too fierce, but not at all whimsical. Another matched it and behind them a deep brooding forest. A far more complex sketch began to evolve than her preliminary sculpture drawings had ever entailed. But the details came into her mind fast and furious and she faithfully released them onto the page.

  The gargoyles seemed to be guarding a gate. To where she wasn’t certain. The great winged horse had come next, emerging from the dark mists wafting through the gnarled trees. Astride the winged beast sat a man.

  She looked again at the face that had flowed so effortlessly from her hand. Malacai L’Baan.

  She remembered sitting there, stunned at what she’d created, even as she was recording it. He’d pulled at her then. He pulled at her now.

  Feeling like a moonfaced teenager, Jordy flipped the book shut and tossed it on the bed.

  It was just the connection of what he did for a living, she convinced herself, and her job of bringing fantastical beings to life, that had her so obsessed with him. She turned toward the bathroom, frowning. As if he needed anyone else obsessing over him at the moment.

  The sudden jarring ring of the phone made her jump.

  “Yes, this is Miss Decker,” she replied to the elegant, British-accented query.

  “This is Alfred L’Baan.”

  “Cai’s grandfather?”

  “Why, yes, yes indeed. He’s spoken of me to you, then?”

  He sounded delighted by the prospect, making Jordy smile. “Yes, he did. You must be calling about my sculptures. I’m very sorry, but I told Cai I have no inventory at the moment.”

  “Sculptures, you say? Well, now, isn’t this an even more pleasant turn of events.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I called to speak with the woman whose imagination spawned that delightful dragon Malacai has been mooning over.”

  Mooning? Mooning was good. Jordy instantly corrected herself. No, no it wasn’t good. Hadn’t she decided that she wasn’t down here to get involved? Nevertheless she couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from her face.

  “I’m glad that worked out for him. It was just a coincidence, really. I doodle when I’m distracted and the dragon simply evolved. He saw it and thought it would be perfect for a book cover.”

  “I understood that Cai met with you to look over your designs. Do you have others?”

  Now it was Jordy’s turn to pause. What exactly had Cai told Alfred? Could it be he didn’t know about the kidnapping? “I’m working, but I don’t have a portfolio.”

  “Do you sculpt delightful creatures such as the dragon?”

  Jordy ignored the tiny stab of doubt that hit her when he said the word “sculpt.” “My work is typically more on the whimsical side, yes.”

  “Malacai spoke of my garden to you, I presume. I have a strong affinity for whimsy, as you call it. No faith in what could be, in this world today. Too much black and white, not nearly enough gray. No belief in things not easily explained. Pity. What medium do you work in?”

  It took a second to make the transition. “Clay mostly.” Something about him, his sincerity, maybe his charming accent, relaxed her. “I’ve tried to work in stone, but I find it rather cold, distant. I need to feel the movement of the piece as it takes shape. Clay has life inside it. Heart.” She laughed self-consciously. “That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

  “On the contrary, young lady, it speaks volumes to me.”

  Jordy smiled, charmed indeed.

  “We must meet. For tea. Could you fit us into your schedule, say sometime early in the upcoming week? I realize this isn’t proper notice, but Malacai said your stay in Florida was to be brief.”

  So Cai had spoken of more than just her drawing to his grandfather?

  “Sounds wonderful. I teach in the mornings on Monday, so perhaps that afternoon?”

  “Delightful! We’ll expect you at the docks at three.”

  “The docks?”

  “Oh, dear, where are my manners? We reside on Crystal Key, Gulf-side of Mangrove. We use the docks at Dobs’ Storage. Dobs will escort you to our slip. Malacai will collect you there if that’s convenient. Or I can have him call at your hotel.”

  “No! I mean, that’s very kind, but I’m certain I can find it. It’s really no bother.”

  “Nonsense. The mangroves aren’t the easiest to maneuver, especially for a novice. Malacai can find his way through the maze on a moonless night. You find Dobs and we’ll take care of the rest. Dilys puts on a delightful tea and she’ll be happy to add another teacup to the tray. We don’t have many visitors out this way.”

  Jordy heard a trace of loneliness in his voice, and her heart softened further. And who was Dilys? Interesting name. Some British form of Phyllis maybe? Perhaps she was British as well. Odd that Cai had no accent. She wondered about that, and why his grandfather lived with him, and several other things she had no business being curious about. “Until Monday then.”

  Alfred rang off and Jordy finally took her shower. Maybe seeing Cai again was exactly what she needed. Perhaps seeing him in his own surroundings would deconstruct the mystery she’d spun around him.

  Rejuvenated by the shower, she went to retrieve her sketch pad, but found herself picking up Cai’s book instead. After all, it was this book that had indirectly brought them together.

  She wandered out to the balcony, looking at the cover. The man dominating it was cloaked in a deep, black robe, so all that was visible was the bright blue of his eyes and the slash of his cheek. She curled up in the thickly padded papasan chair, laying the book open on her thighs.

  Several hours later, the sun almost fully set, her Coke warm and flat, she got up and wandered inside, eyes riveted to the current page. She clicked on the lamp and crawled into bed, still turning the pages.

  She’d left Florida hours before and was now deeply ensconced in Cai’s world. How she could be so far from home, and yet feel she’d finally arrived there, she had no idea. She turned another page.

  EIGHT

  She wore a sleeveless T-shirt dress of pale yellow that ended just above her knees and clung to her slight curves. Her legs were tan and bare save for her flat leather sandals. Wisps of hair blew in wild, short tendrils around her head like a fairy halo. And his reaction was like a sucker punch to the gut; hard, swift, and unexpected.

  Cai hadn’t been thrilled with his grandfather’s sneaky liaison. With an air of wounded pride, Alfred had informed him he merely wanted to spend an hour or two in the company of a delightful young woman with similar interests.

  Cai had his doubts. He never should have let him look at the dragon sketch, but it had been his cover for being gone from Crystal Key. It had seemed harmless. Now he had to see her again, when he’d worked so hard not to.

  After only one meeting, she had found a way into his head and stubbornly refused to leave. For that reason, he’d gone out of his way to conclude his business with her
from a distance. She was leaving shortly and there was too much going on in his life to include her on his ever-growing list of concerns.

  Standing on the dock waiting for him, she was a golden promise that his life could get real interesting, real fast, if he’d only let it. Damn, Alfred.

  Cai pulled the boat up and cut the engine. He would stick to his plan. Polite within the boundaries of social acceptance, nothing more, nothing less.

  She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she looked every bit as wary as he did. That should have reassured him. Perversely, it did not.

  He reached up to offer her assistance into the boat. Her hands weren’t soft and pampered. Lean, callused, strong were the words he’d use to describe them. That jolted him like no gentle touch ever could have. He let them go as soon as she’d steadied herself.

  Curling his hands deliberately around the wheel, he directed her to a seat. “All set?” The words were more curt than he’d intended, but he let them lie.

  Instead of being insulted, she sighed in resignation.

  “I’m sorry Alfred rooked you into this,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind.”

  “You have no idea,” he murmured, but the roar of the engine as he swung away from the dock swallowed his words.

  She said nothing until they’d cleared the mangroves and were heading smoothly across the blue waters.

  “Your grandfather seems like a delightful man. Very charming.”

  “He can be.”

  The sudden touch of her hand on his arm surprised him and the boat jerked to the right before he straightened it out. He looked at her for the first time since leaving Mangrove.

  “Can we talk for a minute?”

  He wanted to gun the engine and race home. The term “hideaway” took on a new meaning. Instead he slowed the engine to an idle and let the boat drift. “I’m trying not to be a jerk here.”

  A tiny quirk of a smile teased her lips.

  “Okay, so I wasn’t trying that hard. It’s just that things are more complicated than you realize. I don’t want to upset Alfred.”

  “You think my visit will upset him?” Then suddenly it dawned on her. “Oh, you mean the investigation. Don’t worry. I figured out that you hadn’t told him about it. I think it’s sweet that you want to spare him the worry. I won’t say anything about how we really met.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.” Maybe he was being an egotistical ass for worrying that she read more into this than a simple tea. Other than the polite thank you for his books, she’d made no attempt to contact him, either.

  “He wanted to talk about my sculptures and before I knew it, we were having tea.”

  “Alfred can have that effect on people.” On his good days. Which, Cai had to admit, he’d been having since he’d made this date. Alfred had always been reclusive, but maybe Cai had reinforced that isolation. He’d been protecting Alfred and his reputation, but maybe he’d gone too far. Did Alfred sincerely just want the company, with no hidden matchmaking agenda?

  “You showed him the dragon,” she said.

  “I had to explain my visit to Mangrove.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  You don’t see a thing, he thought. Was she disappointed? Had she liked the thought of him talking about her? Was she sitting there thinking the same things he was thinking? Could he get any more confused about all of this?

  “Well, as I said, I won’t blow our cover. This sounds like a bad spy novel.” Then she brightened. “Oh, I wanted to thank you for the books.”

  “You did. I got your note the other day.”

  “Well, I want to thank you again. I read Quest for the Dark Pearl, over the weekend. I don’t think I’ve ever been so deeply pulled into a piece of fiction. I lived it, breathed it.”

  Her praise disconcerted him. This wasn’t like getting a note from a reader. She wasn’t looking at him like he was some celebrity. She was looking at him like she saw something else there now. And maybe she did. It was unnerving.

  And incredibly arousing.

  He shifted in his seat. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  She laughed self-consciously. “I guess you’re used to people gushing.”

  He wasn’t used to anything when it came from her.

  She crossed her legs and he noticed she wore a toe ring. He shifted again.

  “I wish I had your way with words, so I could explain how I felt when I read your book.” She leaned forward, spontaneously placing her hand on his arm. His muscles twitched under her thumb.

  Under her thumb. He’d have laughed out loud if his heart wasn’t lodged in his throat. It was the most bizarre feeling in the world, this sense of suspense, the simultaneous dread and almost painful arousal, this certainty that everything was about to change.

  “You created a world so real to me I could feel it, hear it, smell it, taste it.”

  He was going to implode. It took everything he had to sit still under her touch.

  “Your hero really got to me. It was his flaws that drew him to me. He wasn’t always heroic, but I never had a doubt he’d succeed. In fact, the more he doubted himself, the more confident I became in him. I don’t think I’ve ever so completely identified with a fictional character.” Her smile suddenly faded as she looked into his eyes. He had no idea if the ferocity of his reaction showed in his expression. Her hand tightened on him for a moment and then she pulled it away quickly as if she’d been burned.

  He noticed the vein in her temple flicker, and she swallowed nervously.

  He wanted to reassure her that he was harmless, however he felt anything but at the moment. He had to end this … possession she had of some part of him he couldn’t control. He wanted to let go, to give into it and follow it where it would lead him. Lead them. She’d created the dragon after all. His dragon.

  “Fairy or sorceress,” he murmured. Which was she?

  “I … I don’t—” She stood and moved back. The breeze tore at her hair, sending it up in fiery spikes around her head, wrapping the thin cotton of her dress tightly against her skin.

  He stood too, but moved away from her, fists tight, pulse hammering. He let the boat drift, not caring if it capsized or floated out to sea.

  Jordy nervously smoothed her dress. As if that helped. Her frame was slight and yet he had this burning need to run his hands over the shape the wind had so clearly defined for him.

  Insanity. He kept his gaze on the water until he could bring himself under control.

  “We’d better get going,” she said, her voice a bit uneven. “I don’t want to keep your grandfather waiting.”

  Cai opened his mouth, then shut it.

  He didn’t speak again until the dock at Crystal Key came into view. “Thank you for helping me out with Alfred. About the investigation, I mean. It’s just better if he doesn’t have to be bothered with this.”

  “No problem.”

  He darted a glance her way, before maneuvering the boat up to the dock. She wasn’t looking at him.

  “Your home is lovely,” she said, the polite visitor once again. “Is it all yours? The island I mean.”

  “Yes.” He cut the engine and tied off the boat, but before hopping to the pier, he faced her. “Listen, I’m glad you enjoyed the book. I, uh, about back there, it’s—”

  She cut him off with a light smile. “No need to explain. Your job is much like mine, isolated. It’s nice to know when something you’ve labored over is appreciated. But I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “You didn’t embarrass me.” She’d felt something of what he did back there, he knew that. But, if she was going to gloss it over with polite platitudes, he should simply let it go as well. Nothing had happened. Nothing really had changed.

  He wished like hell he could believe that.

  He helped her up, careful to touch her no more than he had to. “I have to work,” he said shortly. “Just have Dilys come and tell me when you’re ready to lea
ve and I’ll take you back.”

  They were almost to the edge of the yard when she stopped. “I know I’m an outsider here.” There was more than politeness in her tone now. There was frost. “I know you’re worried about your grandfather. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Cai almost laughed out loud at that. He’d never been more afraid in all his life.

  “I don’t want anything from you and the only thing I want from Alfred is a nice afternoon spent discussing sculpture. I have no mercenary agenda, but I’ll be baldly honest. I’m here in Florida trying to resurrect a dead career. That dragon sketch was the first thing I’ve drawn in months.” She stopped him from speaking with a raised palm. “I’m really thrilled that it fulfilled some need of yours.”

  If she’d wanted to make him feel like slime, she’d succeeded. “Jordy—”

  “Ah, there you are, my lady fair.” Alfred’s ringing welcome had Cai stepping back even before he realized he’d been stepping forward.

  He made a quick apology to his grandfather for missing tea, followed by an unapologetic escape into the house.

  NINE

  “Well, now, wasn’t that interesting,” Alfred observed.

  Interesting? Rude was more like it. Jordy couldn’t decide what to make of Cai. Hot one second—really hot—then cold the next.

  Alfred turned back to her, a smile creasing his face. His eyes were a remarkable shade of blue. She thought of the book jacket for Dark Pearl and felt that little shiver again.

  “Welcome and good afternoon, my dear young lady. We won’t waste time discussing my grandson’s abominable behavior. Too fine a day for it. I thought we’d take tea on the lanai, overlooking the water. We can take a leisurely stroll through the garden afterward, if you’re not tired of my company by then.”

  “Sounds lovely. And I’m sure I could never tire of listening to your voice.” Her cheeks warmed when he winked.

  “Shall we then? Dilys’ teacakes are best had fresh from the oven. The things that woman can do with marmalade.”