Page 32 of Knight of the Sword

If Michael hadn’t been so tense, he might have laughed. Sophie’s response in the dream they’d shared had been anything but unemotional. Gut-level passion and desire burned in her and he’d wager anything he’d owned in his long existence that she’d truly be a wild thing in bed with him, as well.

But the dream should never have been allowed to enter Sophie’s mind. He tightly controlled his fantasies. He knew Sophie had been hurt and didn’t trust men. The last thing he would want her to think was that he just wanted casual—albeit it blazingly hot—sex with her.

He hadn’t counted on Tanio hanging around after the full-moon ritual, but that was probably because Pendragon had awakened. They had worked closely when forging Excalibur. Still, to invade his dreams—it was something the trickster, Loki, might have done.

“Are you listening to me?”

Michael focused his attention on Morgan. Her full lower lip was protruding in a pout so he must have missed something. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Another sigh came from her. “I said she’s not one of us.”

As if Morgan would know. Michael hadn’t sensed that Sophie was a witch, but she did have some sort of special powers. Protective powers, maybe, since she had instinctively used them to save the puppies from being stepped on.

The counterpoint to “demons from hell” was “angels from heaven”—the way the modern world thought of it anyway. And Avalon, shrouded in the mists of Time, was probably closer to a concept of “heaven” these days than it had been when it was an island guarded by the Lady of the Lake. Nonetheless, its priestesses had been protectors of animal and human life and its male sector, the druids, protectors of earth as well. But, Michael supposed, it didn’t really matter much what names were put to the ancient battle of good versus evil.

“There are relatively few witches still alive,” Michael replied.

“I don’t mean that. Sophie isn’t like us.” Morgan slanted a look at him through her lashes.

He grew wary. “Like us?”

“We feel. We lust for life…to experience pleasure. We’re not afraid to take sex when and where we can.” Morgan got up from her desk and moved toward him, her usually sultry sway somewhat stiff, although her mouth was curved in a silky smile.

“From the way you’re walking, I think you may have been indulging in that activity fairly recently.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, but then she placed a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you let me work some of that tension out of you?”

“I’ll be fine once I’ve talked to Sophie.” He withdrew his arm.

“Well, that may be a while.”

“How late is she running?”

Morgan shrugged. “I think maybe she might have said she had to talk to her husband—”

“Ex-husband,” Michael said and tried not to grit his teeth.

“Whatever. He sure calls here a lot though.”

Michael stared at her. He had felt confident that Sophie harbored no remnants of love for her former husband, but after last night—what had she said? That he, Michael, was worse than that man. Michael cringed inwardly. Sophie thought he had betrayed her. Worse, she thought he could control her emotions, which he couldn’t unless he used black magic, and he was a sworn protector of the Light. Goddess, he had hurt Sophie!

Like a wounded animal, would she seek shelter in the arms of someone familiar? Would she give Robert another chance? From the conversations Michael had endured with the man, as well as the long list of rogues and rakes he’d dealt with over the centuries, Michael knew his type. Those men loved the hunt. They sweet-talked women into believing they cared. They lavished compliments and gifts and attention until they had their quarry cornered as deftly as the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights. Once the conquest had been achieved, they moved on to other prey. Michael had seen it, thousands of times. Unfortunately, it worked only too often since the women they targeted were innocent, if not naïve, of such motives.

Morgan’s fingers trailed up his arm again, her hand resting lightly on his chest, palm flattening against his nipple. “Why don’t you forget about her and let me make you feel good?”

Her touch, inadvertently, was close to his heart and a chakra pathway opened for him. Morgan had her psychic shields down, concentrating on trying to seduce him, and he probed her other thoughts. The image of the man who drifted on the periphery of her mind surprised him.

Michael looked down at her. “Tell me,” he said a low voice that was deadly calm, “how do you know Adam Caldwell?”

****

Sophie stopped just short of the doorway to her office staring at Michael and Morgan. Morgan was running her hand seductively over his chest, and practically purring at the man. He said something to her, too low for Sophie to hear, but Morgan just gave him a coy look and a sultry smile.

Well, if Sophie needed any affirmation in not trusting a warlock, this was it. All that supposed sincerity of his—and dear God, she had actually thought him to be sincere and maybe even honest—was just a scam.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked as she entered the room.

Michael jerked away from Morgan as if burned by a flame. No doubt Morgan, with her long, blue-black hair and alabaster skin, was a hot number in his eyes. The tight, low-cut blouse she wore practically had her boobs popping out. Why had Sophie not noticed before how provocatively Morgan dressed?