Kissed by Ice(4)

"My lord." She gave Drago a slight bow.

"How is my brother?"

"Quiet. More at ease than since he first woke."

"Inigo's awake?" I moved forward, trying to push past Drago and the woman, but he held me back.

"Morgan, this is Dalinda. She is one of our healers."

Dalinda shot Drago a look before reaching out to shake my hand. "Among normal people I'd be called a doctor, but you know how dragons love their traditions."

"Doctor?" I asked. "Why does Inigo need a doctor? What is going on? Is he okay?"

Drago and Dalinda exchanged another look. "Like I said, you should see for yourself." Drago waved toward the open door.

With a glance at the two of them, I stepped inside. The room was even darker than the hall. Heavy drapes had been pulled over the large window opposite the door, and the room was nearly overcrowded by an enormous four-poster bed. I moved closer to the bed, straining, despite my superior night vision, to make out the figure huddled under the blankets.

"Drago?" A pale face turned toward me.

"Oh my gods, Inigo." He was so much thinner than I remembered. Almost fragile-looking. But he was alive. Oh, dear gods, he was alive.

With a squeal of joy, I jumped on the bed and wrapped my arms around him, peppering his face with kisses. It took me a while to realize he wasn't kissing me back. In fact, his whole body was rigid.

"Inigo?" I backed away but kept my hands on his shoulders, reluctant to let him go entirely. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm fine." But his voice was stiff.

I withdrew my hands from his shoulders, feeling suddenly awkward. "You're acting like I'm a stranger. Don't you know who I am?"

"Of course. Morgan." But the words were cool and indifferent. "Thank you for coming, but I'm tired. I'd like to sleep now." And with that he rolled over and turned his back to me, leaving me staring at him in the dark.





Chapter Two



My cell phone rang as I stepped out into the hallway. I didn't want to take it, but my screen told me it was Kabita. With a quick glance in my direction, Dalinda bustled back into Inigo's room. Maybe she was worried I was going to have a mental breakdown or something. Drago touched my arm lightly before joining her, shutting the door to give me some privacy.

"Hi, Kabita."

"What's wrong?"

Crap. I might have known she'd hear it in my voice. There wasn't much I could get past her. "Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all. Been a long day."

"How's Inigo?"

"He's awake."

"Oh, thank goddess."

I smiled a little. "I know, right?"

"Why are you talking to me, then? Why aren't you with him?"

"He's sleeping," I lied. "I guess that egg thing takes a lot out of you. But he's fine, and that's what matters." It was all that mattered. For now. The rest would come later. I had to believe that. "Are you in Miami?"

"Just landed. Plane leaves for Nassau in a little over an hour. From there I should be able to find out where the ship is and take a helicopter out. I'll call as soon as I find Eddie and figure out what the hell is going on."

"Okay, good. I'm, uh, I should go. Just in case he wakes up."

"Tell him 'hi' from me."

"Will do." Once I figured out what the bloody hell was going on.

Kabita hung up, and I shoved my phone back in my jeans pocket. I dithered in the hallway a minute, not sure what to do. Clearly Inigo didn't want me in his room, but I wanted to know what was going on. I was his girlfriend, after all. I loved him, and he loved me. Or he had before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket, and he'd ended up mostly dead, bleeding out on the high desert.

I was going in, dammit. I started toward the door, but it swung open before I could get to it. Drago stepped out, closing the door behind him. He gave me a long look.

"Come, Morgan. We need to talk."





"What the hell is going on, Drago?"

We were ensconced in what could only be described as Drago's man cave. Except, of course, it was far more extravagant than any man cave I'd ever seen. Tall arched windows rose gracefully toward the high ceiling, filling the space with light. Between the half dozen windows, every square inch of wall space was covered in bookshelves crammed with leather-bound volumes, some of them quite old. The only wall that wasn't covered was a large rectangle above the massive stone fireplace where he'd hung an enormous flat screen television. The thing looked completely out of place for the old castle and yet totally in keeping with a man cave.

Around the fireplace was gathered a collection of plush leather couches and chairs interspersed with small tables for holding beverages and snacks. There was even one of those cool globes that was really a bar. Drago struck me as a whisky man. The other side of the room was taken over by a massive desk of some kind of dark wood, richly stained and intricately carved with depictions of—what else?—dragons. It looked like it belonged in a museum.