“Rhi is … different. She was once a lover to a King. Now come. We must leave.”
Denae was dying to know more, but she hurried out of the room after Kellan, grateful to leave it behind and see more of Dreagan. As soon as she stepped into the corridor to follow Kellan, she noticed the huge paintings lining the walls.
If she didn’t know better she would think she was in a museum. Small lights were fitted over each painting to give just enough illumination so a person could take it all in.
Although they were in a hurry, she found her steps slowing to look at every picture. It wasn’t until they were nearly to the stairs that her eyes landed upon a picture with a bronze dragon, the scales metallic even in the painting.
Denae saw the two horns extending backward from its forehead before Kellan grabbed her arm and pulled her after him.
“I wasn’t done looking,” she stated.
“Would you rather look at the paintings or live?”
Well, when he put it that way, of course she wanted to live. But the bronze dragon had been Kellan. She knew it. And she wanted another look.
Denae’s hand landed on the banister, and as she walked down the stairs she got to see more of the manor—and more dragons. They were everywhere. Her favorites were the metal dragons extending from the wall where the dragon’s claw held the lights.
It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of the stairs that she saw the carved dragon newel post and paused. She ran her finger over the etched teeth of the dragon.
She turned her head to Kellan. “How can anyone walk into this place and not realize what all of you are?”
“People see what they want to see. Few pay that close attention. Then there is the fact that very few ever see the inside of the manor.”
“I did.”
His hand dropped from her arm and their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of longing and desire roaring through her. Her skin heated, making her all too aware of the very virile, very handsome man beside her.
“You were dying,” he said as his gaze met hers.
“Con could’ve healed me in the cave. Why bring me here?”
Kellan didn’t look away, but there was a subtle shift about him, as if he were trying to come up with a suitable answer.
“Don’t,” she said as he was about to answer. “If you’re going to lie, I’d rather you not answer me at all.”
“Have I lied to you yet?” he asked softly. Too softly.
Denae wanted to back away, but the steps and banister blocked her. Kellan’s voice was mellow, but in his eyes she saw anger. “Not that I know of.”
“Have I mistreated you?”
“No.”
“Have you suffered here?”
“Just the opposite.”
He took a step closer until their bodies brushed. “Then why do you think I would lie to you now?”
Denae was having a hard time concentrating with him so close. Especially when all she wanted to do was touch him, to run her hands over his chest and feel the heat of him, the strength of his muscles. To shove her fingers into the long, glorious length of his caramel-colored hair.
“I could’ve been questioned in the cave after Con healed me. I was brought here to make me feel safe, and so that I’d let my guard down. Y’all wanted me to trust you. So when I was killed, I wouldn’t see it coming.”
His face lowered to hers until their noses were almost touching. “I give you my word that we doona plan your death.”
Denae found herself leaning into him, his magnetism, his unmistakable allure too great to resist. Her body was a riot of pulsing need, one that only Kellan could quench. If he wanted her.
Which he didn’t.
Kellan hadn’t intended to get so close to Denae. Her words angered him, but that was no excuse. He knew to keep his distance from her.
They stood with their bodies grazing, their faces so close he could move just a fraction and kiss her. At the thought, Kellan lowered his eyes to her full lips and bit back a moan.
She had the most amazing lips, as if she had been crafted to bring men to their knees with that mouth alone.
He longed to taste her, to sample her lips at his leisure. A slow, wet kiss that went on and on as their passion built. But he wouldn’t stop at her mouth. He wanted to pull her close and feel her tempting curves again, to run his fingers along her long throat and watch her silky skin rise with goose bumps.
“The car is waiting,” Kellan said and hastily took a step back before he did something stupid and kissed her.
“Of course.”
He put his hand on the small of her back and escorted her to the foyer, inwardly smiling all the while. Because he had seen her desire, the yearning reflected in her whisky-colored eyes.
A black Range Rover Sport waited for them outside. Kellan walked beside her. “There is a man inside, a friend to Dreagan. He works for MI5 and is here to help.”