Sleeping Beauty and the Demon (17 page)

“I come here infrequently,” Drago said behind her. “One groundskeeper and two maids see to the upkeep at the end of the month. That’s the extent of the servants.” Encircling her waist, he spun her around to face him. “Tonight we’re all alone.”

“Hmm,” she purred.

“On second thought,” he said with a devilish look in his eyes, “this empty place might bore you . . .”

She swatted him playfully on the arm.

Drago whispered against her neck, “Good. I can suggest lots of things we can do now that we’re by ourselves.” With that, he gallantly whisked her up the staircase. Once he passed a spacious landing, he kicked open a set of double doors. A massive bedroom greeted them—a bedroom that overlooked the sharp edge of the hamlet below and hummed quietly with the ocean’s crashing waves.

Decorated in shades of violet and lavender, Rose found that it suited her completely. She nuzzled her head into the crook of Drago’s neck, never wanting their embrace to end.

Smiling, Drago spread her across the oversized bed. “Do you like the house?”

“Yes,” she responded.

“What do you think of the bedroom?”

“I love it.”

“I had it styled to match your eyes.”

The notion made Rose pull him into her arms.

CHAPTER 19

D
rago could barely get himself to stir the next morning. Fighting the fog in his head, he reached for his pocket watch and forced his eyes to focus on its hands.

One p.m.

He and Rose had slept away most of the day, tired from lovemaking, exhausted from their dark encounter in the Bowery. But as fatigued as he was, Drago smiled at the sight of Rose’s warm body in front of him.

I can’t believe she agreed to marry me.

Drago clutched the hand she’d threaded through his. Then he studied its fine veins and satiny skin. The wedding bands he planned to purchase in the nearby shops today would be modest at best, so he’d have to wait and buy Rose a magnificent diamond ring when they returned to New York.

He dreaded going back to the city but his new show was slated to open in a few weeks. Even he had to admit that his pride over being the world’s greatest magician was beginning to cloud things. Yet, in his defense, he’d never been great at anything except magic.

Fortunately, Rose would be with him in New York. He knew that having a relationship with her meant isolating her from everything she held dear, yet it was the only way to protect her from Morvina
.

In the silence of the afternoon, he closed his eyes and listened to her soft breathing. Giving a grunt, he entwined his legs with hers. His half-erect shaft bumped against her backside and a surge of erotic pleasure shot through him. After he kicked back the bed-sheet, he stared at her heart-shaped ass topped with an adorable pair of dimples. It was perfection—and all Drago wanted to do was stroke between her legs and bury himself deep inside her core.

With a tug at her waist, he pulled her closer. Rose stirred beside him but didn’t wake fully. Moaning, she reached backward and cupped his face. He felt her entire body come aflame when he caressed the flair of her hips and pressed his lips to the column of her neck. Reaching down, he slid his fingers inside her center. And from behind, he readied her for a long time.

Feeling his erection rise, he grasped it and guided it inside her. Urged by his shaft’s almost painful throbbing, Drago plunged and built up friction. And as he pumped, his temples pulsed. Making love to Rose was an insatiable craving. He’d never felt this way about any woman. He could honestly say that he loved everything about her—and knowing that he was marrying her today heightened his desire for her even more.

Drago reached around and gently played with Rose’s breast. As he tweaked her nipple into a rosy point, he felt the moisture flow between her legs. Wetting his lips, he skimmed the slope of her back with his fingertips before he wrapped one leg over her graceful hip to intensify his thrusts.

“God, you’re glorious,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she murmured over her shoulder.

Nearing release, Drago clutched her desperately. Visions of her rounded derrière and the sensation of her arousal drenching his sex brought him to an astounding climax.

Breathless, he said, “You’re amazing to wake up to.”

Rose responded by reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“Today is going to be the happiest day of my life,” he said into her shining hair. Then his smile dropped. It would only be the happiest day of his life on two conditions.
If
he could fight off the lethargy that came with daylight.
If
he could bring himself to go inside the chapel.

Late last night, Rose had made Drago promise she’d have a church wedding. Unfortunately, churches didn’t typically welcome demons.

Before Drago woke Rose, she’d been dreaming of him. Imagining his hewn physique in nothing but a magician’s cape, in fact. The image brought a smile.

She stretched her arms above her head after they made love and gave a lazy yawn. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Drago brushed a locket of hair off her forehead. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”

She sat up and scooted against the headboard. “I’m glad you’re going to keep your promise to make me a respectable woman.”

He threw his head back in throaty laughter. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ve changed my mind. You will live here as my courtesan. My concubine for all time.”

“I wouldn’t care as long as we never left this house.”

He laughed again, his eyes creasing at the corners.

She studied the man she was so desperately in love with. He had grown a shadow of a beard, and his tousled hair, which shone attractively with golden-brown streaks, had grown longer lately, too. Still, what enticed Rose most about Drago was the way his stare portrayed the hope that Rose would always be content as his wife. That’s what she really loved about him. He would never stop taking care of her and protecting her.

“Since we’re marrying today,” Rose said excitedly, “I want to know everything about you.”

“Hmm . . . I’m so interesting,” Drago quipped. “Where to start?”

She rolled her eyes.

“All right,” he propped his head on one hand. “I’ve always been interested in magic.”

“Always?”

“My family never had any money, so my father would perform magic tricks to entertain us on long, cold nights.” He paused. “Now that I think of it, the diversion it brought was my first glimpse at magic’s power.”

“That explains a lot.” Rose smiled. After awhile she said, “I’ve always been interested in the unexplained, too. What do you think makes people so fascinated with illusions?”

“People say they want the laws of nature to be explained,” he replied. “What they really want is to discover the truth about magic.”

“The truth?”

“The public isn’t content to be deceived by ordinary tricks anymore.”

“You mean audiences want to believe it’s
not
a trick?”

“Precisely.” Drago nodded. “They want to believe that magic exists and can do great things.”

Rose fingered his hair. “That’s where you come in.”

“I suppose.”

“You can do it all,” she reminded him.

“Conjuring. Mentalism. Sleight of hand. Mesmerism, yes. Curiosity draws people closer to me—to see if my abilities are merely gimmicks.”

Rose considered what Drago said. “It’s frightening to think what will happen to you if someone reveals your biggest secret.”

“Hopefully, the public will never become that clever,” he remarked dryly.

“You know so much about the world—about people. Sometimes I think you’re older than your years.”

He frowned. “I’ve lived many lifetimes in one.”

Rose touched the amulet nestled above her breasts, then traced its outline. “If we’re going to be married, I want to be honest with you. This necklace frightens me.”

His eyes flashed like a sea under a tempest. “Don’t be afraid. According to Romanian beliefs, protecting someone is what an amulet is supposed to do.”

“Then I’ll wear it until you tell me to take it off,” she said tenderly.

Drago leaned in for a kiss. Rose greeted it with her entire body.

When he gathered her to him, he said, “I love you more every day.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and tightened their embrace. It was true that she’d given up everything for Drago—her, family, job, and friends. That’s why, at this point, she could only hope that fate had designed her to be with him and no one else.

“We need to buy you a wedding dress,” Drago murmured into the waves of her hair.

“Can’t you just conjure up something for me to wear?” she teased.

He chuckled. “That wouldn’t be any fun for you. I want you to pick out something special.”

“Where on earth will we find a wedding gown?”

“Maybe in the village.”

An hour later they found themselves on the charming streets of East Hampton. Clapboard houses rose beyond the brightly painted shops that lined the town’s main avenue. And the entire town seemed immersed in an idyllic sort of trance.

Rose ate a late lunch at a picturesque café. Claiming he wasn’t hungry, Drago watched her pick at a sandwich and a bowl of soup. After the hearty meal, she pulled him along the row of stores. Then she got excited when she spotted a dress shop at the end of the street.

Arriving at it, she pointed to a gown in the window. “That’s the one.”

“It’s beautiful.” Drago said. “But is it meant for a bride?”

“It may be a tea dress, but I love it. Besides, it’s my best option in this tiny village.”

He smiled. “Then I love it, too.” After he kissed her on the cheek and handed her a wad of money, he urged her to go inside and try it on.

The shopkeeper helped Rose change into the white garment. With its fashionable empire waist and taffeta skirt, the dress boasted elbow length sleeves, a cross-draped bodice and a flowing lace overskirt.

Once the kindly woman caught Rose’s hair up in a wide, white ribbon, she stepped back to admire the final look. “Perfect,” the woman said.

Rose beamed at her reflection in the mirror. “I’ll take it.”

The store owner clapped her hands in delight. “You look beautiful, Miss, but we can’t let your groom see you in it. I’ll wrap the dress up promptly.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re getting married right now.”

“How romantic!” the woman cried.

Rose emerged from the dress shop as if on the lightest cloud. Drago was waiting for her on the walkway. He gazed at the sight of her in her bridal dress with all the things she’d hoped to see in his eyes: admiration, affection, approval, and pure love.

Offering her his arm, he led her toward the chapel situated on the edge of East Hampton. Halfway there, Rose stopped abruptly in her tracks. “Rings! We don’t have wedding rings!”

Drago patted his breast pocket. “Not to worry. I bought them while you were trying your dress on.”

“You think of everything.”

When she stole a look at Drago, she noticed he was perspiring profusely. “Are you nervous?”

“I suppose I am.”

His energy seemed to deplete substantially as they neared the chapel. And his hands began to shake. “I don’t know if I can go inside.”

“You’re having second thoughts?” Panic seized her.

“Not at all.”

“What’s wrong, then?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside a church.”

She laughed. “I’m sure lightning won’t strike.”

“You don’t understand,” Drago said, becoming unhinged.

“Are you really too nervous to go inside?”

“Yes.” His limbs joined his hands in an uncontrolled tremor.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a church wedding,” she said, “but I can compromise for you.”

“You’re willing to do that?”

She nodded. “It looks like there’s a courtyard next to the chapel. Maybe the pastor will marry us outside.”

He gripped her hand. “Would you mind asking him?”

“Of course.”

Thankfully, the pastor agreed—and even brought out his wife as a witness. The warm hues of sunset showered the brief ceremony, while a crisp breeze fluttered the modest bouquet of flowers Rose held in her hands.

After they exchanged wedding vows, Drago kissed her, long and soft, and she couldn’t help but think it was the happiest day she had ever spent.

Unbeknownst to her, their union marked the start of an eerie, downhill spiral.

Drago’s new show was set to open in three weeks. After Rose sent a telegram to the Marconis telling them she’d married Drago, the starry-eyed newlyweds spent a relaxing week in East Hampton. Then, it was time to rush back to the city to prepare for opening night.

As Rose settled into their rehearsal schedule
and
Drago’s apartment near the theater, her guilt started to weigh her down. She’d had no contact with Olivia, Elena, Lorenzo, or Anthony, which increased her shame and sense of disconnection.

In those weeks, she was left to wonder if Richard had made good on Drago’s demand that he recommend her to the editor of
The Daily Gazette
. More importantly, had Richard destroyed the photo of Drago on the laundry line?

Rose was dying to know, but she didn’t see how she could find out. Rather, she concentrated on performing. The Herndon Hippodrome was undoubtedly the most intimidating theater along Broadway. Large and stately, the theater emanated an aura of authority. In fact, it towered over the other auditoriums with a presence that said, “Anyone who performs here has hit the big time.”

Unfortunately, Rose didn’t consider herself one of those worthy people. At best, she was an amateur. Compared to Drago’s polished showmanship, she was even pathetic. She’d lost count of how many props she dropped during their rehearsals—yet Drago remained patient and loving.

“Do it again, Rose,” he would encourage with a hand pressed to the small of her back. Fortunately, Drago’s authentic abilities left little for Rose to actually master. An experienced professional, he could astound spectators without revealing the fact that he was a real-life sorcerer.