Page 49 of Knight of the Sword

Pendragon was sitting by the door, oddly contemplative. He sat so still, he seemed to be more statue than alive. Only the raised spikes on his neck bespoke trouble.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“Sigurd.”

“The white dragon?”

Pendragon nodded. “I smelt him before, but he was leagues away and something was binding him. He’s much closer now.” He stood, shaking his scales, turning them into armor. “And he’s loose.”

****

Sophie paused at the top of the stairs, wondering if her ears were playing tricks on her. She could have sworn she heard Michael’s rumbling baritone in the hall below. She had dreamed about him again last night, another erotic dream from which she’d awakened hot and wet and wanting him.

“I know Sophie’s here, Benton. She called Allison yesterday.”

Damn! It was him! Sophie leaned against the wall. She’d known better than to call Alli, but she wanted to check on her horse. If Robert had followed him—

Straightening her shoulders, she reached for the handrail. Michael was here. If he had been followed, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. And she didn’t want to make the butler or Mr. Smith lie for her any longer.

She made her way carefully down, taking one step at a time, the way the physical therapist had showed her to do. Reaching the bottom, she extended the four-pronged walking cane and walked slowly toward the foyer.

“I’m sorry, sir—”

“It’s all right, Benton. I’ll talk to him,” Sophie said and met Michael’s gaze. Heat washed over her like a hot flash at the smoldering look in his dark eyes. They practically burned into her as he contemplated every inch of her, starting with her mouth, lingering on her breasts, moving downward past her waist. She felt dampness gather between her legs and leaned on the cane for support. Dear God, if he could practically make her come with just a look…

The dragon smirked, lifting a corner of his mouth to expose a fang. “Glad to see us?” he asked.

Before she could answer, Mr. Smith came into the hall. “I thought I heard voices in here.” He looked quickly from Michael to Sophie. “Is everything all right?”

“No, everything is not all right,” Michael replied, “and I’m not talking about why Sophie decided she should hide from me. The white dragon has been turned loose, which means that Balor is probably hot on our trail.”

“Oh, dear. I thought that nasty man was in London,” Mr. Smith said.

“He’s been spotted in Dallas,” Michael answered and gave Sophie a discerning look. “Are you well enough to travel?”

“She’s supposed to have another week of therapy—”

“I’m fine,” Sophie interposed. “The therapist said yesterday that my leg healed faster than any she’s ever seen.” She held up her cane. “If I use this, I shouldn’t have any problems. When do you want to leave?”

“The sooner the better,” Michael replied. “I’ll call the airlines and see what the earliest flight to Charleston is.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Smith said. “I’ll arrange for my private plane to fly you there. It will take less than an hour for the pilot to have a flight plan ready.” He turned to Sophie. “My dear, are you sure you’re well enough to do this?”

She nodded. “We’ve delayed long enough. If we can leave this evening, perhaps no one will follow us.”

“All right then, I’ll call my pilot. And take this with you.” Smith opened a glass cabinet filled with antique guns and removed a long leather scabbard from the bottom. He handed it to Michael. “You can use this for the Sword. The inside is steel-lined.” He turned to Benton. “Have the chef prepare a quick meal, would you?”

“Right away,” the butler said and turned to go. Pendragon ambled after him, then stopped and stared at Michael.

Michael sighed. “Hmmm—would you happen to have any ice cream?”

“Certainly. Several kinds. Would you like some for dessert?”

“Not me.” He pointed to Pendragon. “Gila monsters seem to be very fond of it, though.”

Pendragon glared at Michael and blew a puff of smoke. Mr. Smith’s eyes widened at the sight, but Benton merely looked down his nose at the dragon.

“Very well, sir,” he said.