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swarthy-faced man with a patch over one eye appeared in the window. He looked like a

pirate, but the last thing her befuddled mind wondered before darkness enveloped her was why he was dressed in a suit and tie?

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 75

* * * *

Morgan watched as Allison put down the phone, a shocked express ion on her

face. “What is it?” she asked.

“That was Parkland hospital. Sophie‟s been in an accident.”

“How badly is she hurt?”

“Concussion. Broken leg. Pretty bad slash on her arm from broken glass.”

Allison gathered her purse and car keys. “Thank God some good Samaritan stopped and

put a tourniquet on it and waited until the ambulance came.”

“Do they say what happened?”

“Apparently she swerved lanes and over-corrected. No other car was involved.

Cancel the rest of the appointments, will you? I‟m going over there.”

“Of course.” Morgan waited until she heard Allison drive away and then went

into the tiny kitchen and picked up the coffee mug Sophie had used earlier. She gave it a good sniff, satisfied that no trace of her special herbs lingered.

“Where did Allison go?” Janie asked from the doorway.

Morgan nearly dropped the cup. She‟d forgotten the girl was still here. “Sophie

was in a car accident.”

“Oh, no! How bad?”

Morgan related what she knew and Janie shook her head. “That is so odd. Sophie

is an excellent driver. She doesn‟t text or even use her cell phone when she‟s on the road.

Why would she get distracted enough to drift into another lane?”

“Who knows? Maybe it was just heavy traffic.” Morgan put the mug back on the

shelf and busied herself cleaning the sink. Had her herbs had anything to do with it? She had meant for Sophie‟s face to break out in blotches and a rash so Michael wouldn‟t find her so god-damned attractive, but sometimes vision was affected. She paused, her blood

chilling. Adam very much wanted the bitch alive. He‟d told Morgan that. If he ever

found out that Morgan might have anything to do with causing the accident—but then,

why would he? There was absolutely no reason for him to find out. She forced herself to breathe in. She was safe.

“I guess I‟d better call Michael,” Janie said.

Morgan whirled around. “Why would you call him?”

“He‟ll want to know.”

“Why, exactly, do you think that?” Morgan asked, keeping her voice neutral.

Janie blinked. “He likes her. A lot.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “He‟s simply trying to convince her to look for some

ancient sword that the eccentric millionaire wants.”

“How do you know that?” Janie asked.

She could hardly explain to the girl that she had the office bugged. “She

mentioned something about it the last time he was here.”

“Well, that‟s a new one,” Janie said. “A guy asking a girl on a date to find a

sword.” Then she giggled. “Unless it‟s the sword inside his pants. Sophie fences, you know.” She giggled harder. “He sure calls here often enough to be interested in sparring with her, if you catch my jest.”

Morgan bit back a curse she was about to hurl at the girl. No sense in wasting

dark magic on the little idiot. If Michael wanted to sheath his
sword
in anyone, Morgan could give him more than a quick parry! She sniffed. Sophie Cameron hadn‟t been able

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 76

to hold on to a handsome hunk like Robert—probably because she was cold as a glacier

in bed. And she‟d bet her modeling contract that Michael was a man who liked really hot women. And Morgan liked building up steam in the bedroom.

She forced herself to smile at Janie. Sophie would be out-of-commission for

awhile which would give Morgan time to work on Michael. She was just glad that Adam

Baylor would never find out what she had done.

* * * *

“My dear boy,” Mr. Smith said as Michael paced back and forth in the hospital

room, “you‟ll wear out the linoleum.”

Michael looked over at Sophie, pale- faced and comatose. He had been sending

healing white light into her body ever since they‟d been admitted into the private room

that Smith had ordered, but she had not responded. He gently probed her mind again.

Her shields were down, due to being unconscious, but a ll he could detect was a blank

nothingness. At least, she was not reliving the accident in some nightmare- like state.

The nurse came in to check Sophie‟s vitals again. Michael could discern nothing

from the woman‟s face as to whether the signs were good or bad nor did her mind reveal

anything other than routine professionalism.

“How is she?” he asked as the nurse adjusted the IV-drip and turned to go.

“She‟s holding her own, Mr. McCain. I‟ll be back in thirty minutes to check her

signs again.”

“Shouldn‟t she be waking up?”

„Some patients take longer than others with head trauma,” she answered. “The

CAT-scan showed minimal swelling, so that‟s good news. We just have to be patient.”

Michael resumed pacing again as she left. As a warlock, he had honed his

abilities to control himself totally. Magic tinged with emotion was dangerous, yet now he wanted nothing more than to call on all the gods and offer any bargain for this woman to wake up and be all right. He stopped practically in mid-step and stared at Sophie again.

He loved her.

Persuading her to help him find the sword was important. Infinitely so. Balor

could not be allowed its possession. Michael‟s raging lust for Sophie—his need to bury

himself inside her and stay there—was unsurpassed by anything he had ever felt for a

woman, but it paled in comparison to this newfound understanding. That lust was built

on a much stronger foundation. Love. Caring. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her to be one with him. The potency of his feelings shot through him like a lightning bolt.

And then the irony of the situation hit him. In all his centuries of living, he had

never experienced real love until now. And a warlock would be the last person someone

as practical and logical as Sophie would want to marry. He was pretty sure she much

preferred to have him and his red dragon go away and leave her in peace.

That wasn‟t going to happen. Not now.

Sophie stirred and a small moan escaped her lips. With preternatural speed,

Michael was at her side. He didn‟t care if Smith noticed how fast he moved or not.

“Sophie! Wake up,” he said as he took her hand, stroking his thumb across her

palm. “Come back to the world of the living.”

He felt the static connection, sensed the purple light arching between them, even

as she opened her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as she blinked her eyes, trying to focus on him.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 77

“Like I‟ve been run over by a truck,” she said with a grimace.

Michael smiled. “You
were
run over by a truck. Sort of. Do you remember?”

Sophie closed her eyes and for a moment, he thought he‟d lost her again, but then

she opened them and nodded slightly.

“I…I was driving to Dallas. My eyes itched and then blurred. I tried to avoid

hitting another car.” She glanced down at her bandaged arm. “The truck left the road.

The last thing I remember is that pirate man helping me.”

Michael exchanged a quick glance with Smith. Was she hallucinating? “Pirate

man?” he asked.

She must have noticed the look he‟d given Smith because she gave him a little

smile. “Not a real pirate. He just looked like one. Olive skin and an eye patch, but

dressed in an expensive suit.” She pointed to her bandaged arm. “He stopped the

bleeding. I‟d like to thank him, but I don‟t know who he was.”

Michael felt the fine hair along his nape raise. There was only one person who fit

that description that he knew of. “I think you just met Adam Baylor,” he said.

Sophie stared at him. “I thought you said he was evil. He saved my life.”

Because he needs you to find the sword. Pendragon‟s arrival must have tipped

Balor off. Since he was obviously following her, Balor knew where Sophie worked and

probably where she lived.

The search for the sword had just gotten more dangerous---and more vital.

* * * *

Sophie rested her crutches against the edge of the sofa and sank down gratefully,

easing her leg up on the cushions. She couldn‟t just have broken her leg in one place.

No. She had fractured both the femur and the tibia and now faced a good month of

physical therapy before she would be able to travel.

She‟d expected Michael to be upset with the delay, but he had stoically accepted

it. In fact, he had been practically gallant, like some knight of old visiting her every day for a week before he‟d brought her home from the hospital yesterday.

“Stay right there,” he said as he pulled the larger car he had rented into her

driveway. “I‟ll unlock the door.”

“I can unlock the door, Michael.” Sophie gave him a grin. “I didn‟t break my

hand.”

“Just sit there, will you?” Taking her keys, he sprang from the seat, had the door

open, and was back on her side of the car just as she opened it. “Here, let me.” He
eased her legs toward the side, helping her out.

“My crutches…”

“Forget those,” Michael said, wrapping an arm around he shoulders and lifting

her.

“I can hobble. They made me do it before I could leave the hospital.”

“Yeah, well, just hold on.”

Sophie leaned against him, suddenly aware of how solid his chest was. She felt the

corded muscles of his shoulders as she tentatively wrapped an arm around his neck She
wasn‟t exactly a light-weight, and he was carrying her like she was a bag of feathers.

He kicked the door closed and deposited her on the couch as Pendragon clanked

his claws across the tile floor towards them.

His cobalt eyes studied her and he came forward to sniff at her leg. Michael

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 78

batted his snout away. “None of that.”

The dragon snorted small puffs of smoke. “I smelled metal.”

“That would be the steel pins in my leg,” Sophie said with a small smile. Had the

dragon gotten that close to her a week ago before all this happened, she would have run
screaming from the room, but oddly enough, those days in the hospital bed gave her time
to rethink a lot of things. Not that she could run anywhere right now.

“I guess we won‟t be traveling anytime soon,” he said.

“Afraid not,” Sophie answered. “It‟ll be the middle of July at least.”

“Or longer, if that‟s what it takes,” Michael replied.

The dragon gave a little sigh and sat on his haunches. “At least, Balor doesn‟t

know more than we do.” He cocked his head as Michael and Sophie exchanged glances.

“What‟s wrong?”

“It seems this Mr. Baylor knows who I am,” Sophie replied and told him about

the rescue. “I know you both said he was evil, but he helped me.”

Pendragon‟s bared his razor-sharp teeth. “He needed you alive.”

“That‟s what I told her,” Michael said. “From now on, Sophie doesn‟t leave our

sight. Either you or I will be guarding her.”

Pendragon nodded. “Affirmative. Every single minute of the day.”

“Excuse me, guys,” Sophie intervened. “I am certainly not going to have you

watching me when I take a shower!”

Michael tilted his head. “You might need someone to scrub your back.”

The idea of Michael being in the shower with her—her treacherous imagination

flashed an image of him stark-naked—made her stomach flutter as though a hundred

butterflies had suddenly taken leave of a roost. She felt her face heat and it didn‟t help
that Michael was grinning with no dimple showing.

“I think I can manage,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me home though.”

“I hope you‟re not dismissing me?”

“Don‟t you have a temp agency to run?”

“Nope. Stephanie can handle the office,” Michael said as he sat down in the

recliner across from her. “I‟m spending the night.”

Sophie shook her head at the memory. Michael had slept in the recliner and the

dragon on the floor near the sofa where she lay. As much as she hated to admit it, she

had felt a little bit special, like some medieval lady in King Arthur‟s court. After all, how many modern females had a hunky man who was a throwback to chivalry and a dragon

guarding her?

She was startled by a persistent knocking on the door. The dragon snarled, on

instant alert. Could it be that Adam Baylor had found her? Michael had set wards of

protection around her house before he left this morning, but what did she know of magic?

Would they hold?

“Come on. Open up, Soph!” Robert called.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “It‟s my ex-husband,” she said to the dragon.

“You‟ll need to hide in the office.”

“I‟m supposed to protect you.”

“Robert isn‟t going to hurt me,” Sophie replied as she eased herself into a sitting