Desire Me (14 page)

But were they here now, at his house, where they would be safe? No. They were not. They were at their shop, where unknown
customers came and went throughout the day and countless bumbling thieves trespassed at night, and where their only defense
was a single gun in the possession of a woman with poor aim.

The situation was intolerable. He removed the map from the frame and folded it into his bag. He eyed his mantel clock. It
was late, but damned if he would get any sleep unless he took care of this tonight. When had he become so bloody protective?
She hid secrets he wanted answers to; that was his only interest, he reminded himself. That, and he wouldn’t mind getting
her into his bed. He would have to go retrieve the women himself. If Sabine wouldn’t see sense, then her aunts surely would.

Max didn’t bother going to the front door of the shop, as the store had long since closed. Instead he went directly to the
back. He knocked. A moment later, Sabine opened the door.

“You decided to knock tonight, how unusual,” she said. She did not move from the doorway or invite him inside.

“Most amusing. Might I come in?” he asked.

“Very well.” She stepped back then closed the door
behind him. “Let us sit down here then,” Sabine said, eyeing the staircase.
“I’d prefer not to worry my aunts with more talk of death and destruction.” She pulled a chair out from the small table and
motioned for him to take it. Then she proceeded to clean up the supplies that were scattered across the tabletop.

“With a murderer on the hunt for the guardians, don’t you think you and your aunts would be safer at my townhome?” he asked.
“What if this man comes after them here?”

She swung around to face him. “I never told you that one of my aunts was the guardian,” she said.

“Do you deny that you are all in danger?”

But she said nothing, merely pursed her lips and looked away. She continued putting away her supplies, jars and ribbons and
whatnots.

“I think it’s foolish to risk it. It would be prudent for you and your aunts to come and stay at my house for the time being,”
he said.

Again she made no comment.

“It is quite evident that there is a killer after someone in this house; otherwise, you wouldn’t have reacted in such a manner
earlier when I mentioned the guardian. I can provide appropriate security,” he said.

She released a heavy sigh. “We have a business to run. And we are not without skill to protect ourselves.”

“Right, the candelabra, a most effective weapon,” he said.

“He’s right, Sabine,” Agnes said as she came down the staircase. Her two sisters followed. “We cannot ignore the prophecy.”

“It would be nice to feel more secure,” Calliope said. “Especially with you leaving town.”

Max sat forward. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

Sabine glared at her aunt. “To see an old friend. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

He might have imagined it, but he could have sworn Calliope winked at him.

“What do you think about this, Lydia?” Sabine asked.

“We do not belong there.” Lydia’s voice was tight.

“Go stay in a fancy townhome full of servants and luxurious linens.” Agnes sighed dramatically. “I can see how that might
be taxing.”

Max couldn’t help himself and laughed heartily.

“We’ll go gather our belongings,” Agnes said. “All of us.”

“I’ll wait right here,” Max said.

Sabine nodded, then left the room. Calliope waited until her other sisters had gone. “Tomorrow morning she’s taking the train
to Cornwall. She needs protection.”

“Consider it done,” Max said with a smile.

The following morning Sabine stood, waiting in line, at Victoria Station. She had snuck out of Max’s townhome very early that
morning to avoid detection. Currently, there was a family in front of her, a sweet couple and three young children. The smallest
girl kept looking shyly at Sabine from behind a wooden doll. Sabine smiled and waved, which made the girl giggle and hide
her face.

The family received their tickets and headed off in the direction of their platform. Sabine stepped up to the ticket counter.

“I need a ticket to Cornwall, please,” she said. She counted out her money and placed it on the counter.

“Sorry, miss, but we’re all sold out for that train today,” the clerk told her.

“Sold out?” Sabine eyed the schedule. “How is that possible?”

“Yep, some bloke bought a whole train car.” He shook his head. “Never seen that before.”

“Splendid. Well, can you tell me when the next train leaves for that area?” She had to get to Phinneas, and soon. Of course
she could hire a coach, but that would likely take two days’ travel. The train would be so much faster because she wouldn’t
have to stop to change horses.

“Not until tomorrow. Sorry, miss.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a sheepish smile. Dimples pierced his ruddy cheeks.
“Oh, look there, that’s the bloke who bought the car.” He pointed a fat finger over her shoulder.

She turned and found none other than Maxwell Barrett leaning against a column. He smiled and waved.

She quickly gathered the coins she’d placed on the counter, scooping them up and dropping them into her purse. “Thank you,”
she muttered to the man. Then she made her way over to Max.

“Precisely what do you think you’re doing?” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Are you following me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had need to go to Cornwall, and I prefer to have my space.”

“You knew damned well that I was going there today.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, you will have to share your
space with me. And don’t think to argue with me because I won’t have it.”

He held his arms up in defeat. “As you wish.”

An attendant wearing a starched black uniform with matching hat met them on the platform.

“This way, my lord. We have your car waiting for you,”
he said. He led them down the arched corridor to an opulent car toward
the front of the train.

Sabine stepped up into the car. The plush seats faced one another in groups of four. Wood paneling covered nearly every other
surface save the windows. Luxury in motion, though at the moment the train idled at the station.

“If I can be of any further assistance,” the man said. When Max shook his head, the man bowed and stepped back onto the platform.

“I did not realize one could purchase an entire train car for oneself,” Sabine said as she sat on the velvet-cushioned seat.

“It’s not customary,” he said. He sat directly opposite her and smiled broadly.

But he had paid for it, and now for the next several hours, they’d be completely alone. She needed to do her best to stay
on guard. He was charming and devilishly handsome, and she could not afford to slip and allow his wit and seductive glances
to distract her. Especially not now. He might find all of this entertaining and amusing, but for her, for her family, this
was about survival.

A few moments later, the train jerked into motion. Sabine held the armrests firmly to keep herself from jostling about. She
watched out her window as the station, then the bustling London streets, chugged by.

“What else can you tell me about these guardians?” he asked.

She looked out the window, and the landscape passed by in a blur. Her stare became unfocused until she saw her own reflection
in the glass. He knew she was withholding information from him, so there was no reason to deny it. “I can’t tell you anything
else,” she said simply.

“So you know who they are?” he asked.

She nodded once.

“Her majesty? Is she a guardian?”

“Heavens no,” she blurted out. The idea was ludicrous. “Queen Victoria is not Atlantean.”

He nodded but said nothing more. They sat quietly for several moments, and Sabine relaxed a measure.

“You consider me an adversary,” he said. He drummed his fingers on the wooden armrest. “That certainly creates an interesting
dilemma.”

“I don’t consider you anything,” she said abruptly. Not precisely true, since she considered him devilishly handsome and dangerously
tempting.

“You certainly know how to wound a man’s pride,” he said. He stretched his well-sculpted legs out in front of him. Even though
they were encased in his trousers, she could tell his thighs were muscular.

Her mouth went dry.

“Ordinarily women find me quite irresistible, I can assure you,” he continued.

“Of that I have no doubt,” she said tartly, then realized she might have given herself away.

“Indeed.”

“Silly girls,” she said, in an effort to disguise her slip. “To succumb to such obvious charm and good looks.”

His lips twitched. “You prefer men who are less obviously handsome?”

She eyed him, trying to determine if he was toying with her or if he was completely serious. His sharp blue eyes revealed
nothing.

“You seem to be quite immune to my charms,” he continued.

The truth was she was not immune to his charms at all,
quite the contrary. She found herself utterly drawn to him. Shamelessly
so. But she would be damned if she would let him know any of that.

Maxwell Barrett was used to getting his way with women. He was the sort of man who could make you forget what you were about
to say, forget why you’d walked into a room, forget your own name. Precisely the sort of man she’d love to have an affair
with, but there was something about Max that gave her pause. Could she indulge, and make certain her heart remained untouched?
She knew Max was not a man who would easily fall in love. But neither did she.

“Your charms, as it were, have nothing to do with this journey,” she said, then looked out the window.

He was only charming with the intent to disarm her. To try to manipulate the truth out of her. It was further proof that last
night she’d been a fool to believe she could trust him.

A woman with a refreshment tray stepped into their car. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but here is the tray you requested.”
The woman placed the tray on the empty seat next to him, then left the car.

Max handed Sabine a glass of wine. “Would you care for some cheese or bread with that?” he asked her.

“Not now,” she said.

“Your aunt sent me to protect you,” he said.

“Calliope talks too much.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His nearness allowed her a whiff of his scent. This morning, she found
no hint of brandy or tobacco. Instead she inhaled sandalwood, masculinity, and pure seduction. Her nose twitched.

“Tell me about the elixir,” he said.

His curiosity tugged at her. Atlanteans were raised to hold their country and their ways in great esteem, despite the loss
of their actual land. To meet someone who had an interest in her people, well, it thrilled some small part of her. Surely
most Atlanteans had shared a tale, a time or two. How else would the English and other people know of them?

She could be vague and give just enough to appease him without revealing anything dangerous. There was no need to tell him
how a guardian’s amphora never ran dry. A never-ending supply of elixir could tempt even the most noble of persons. And to
make matters worse, she had already used some on him to heal his gunshot wound. He’d seen the powers at work. No, she would
merely give him the basics, what he could find in a history book from Atlantis, if any of them had survived.

“It is said to be from the waters of Atlantis,” she said.

He leaned back again, putting his legs out in front of him. They were so close that she could have reached down and brushed
her fingertips across the top of his shin.

“What is it supposed to do?” he asked.

“It acts as an enhancer.” She met his gaze, carefully selecting her words before she spoke. “For example, it would make Galileo
more intelligent. And Oscar Wilde more”—she paused, searching for the right word—“eccentric. So I suppose for you, it would
make you even more charming.” She did nothing to hide the sarcasm from her voice.

“And likewise it would no doubt enhance your sharp wit.” He nodded with a smile.

She laughed. She could not help herself.

“You should laugh more often,” he said. “Life is intended to be enjoyed.”

“Life isn’t always amusing,” she countered, then took a sip of her wine.

“Touché,” he said.

She fingered the chain around her neck. The vial was hidden beneath her dress and rested safely against her body.

“So it’s from the waters of Atlantis,” he mumbled. “If it is an enhancer, then it would enhance youth and beauty as well,
I suppose. Which is undoubtedly why some believe it to be the fountain of youth.”

She sat forward. “Do people actually believe that?” she asked.

“There are tales.”

She shook her head. That was ridiculous. Atlanteans aged just as any people would. “Though it might smooth someone’s skin
and add shine to someone’s hair, it doesn’t actually make people younger. It is not magic,” she said defensively.

“But if it enhances—”

“Enhances what a person already possesses,” she interrupted. “It does not create where something wasn’t before, only makes
existing traits stronger, bigger, more pronounced.”

“One could argue that was a form of magic,” he said.

“I would not,” she said with a shrug.

“What of the healing capabilities?” he asked. Then his smile faded as he looked over her shoulder.

She turned, and through the glass in the door, she saw two men. One pointed and turned the door latch.

“Sabine, run!” Max said.

Spencer needed to get back to Cornwall. But damned if her majesty had not let him out of her sight. It had been
one advisory
meeting after another. He had more pressing matters to attend to, though he could not very well tell the queen that. To her
and everyone around her, there was nothing more important.

That old man, Phinneas, had fooled him. When Spencer had arrived at the small cottage of the second guardian, he’d found a
cabinet full of potions and tonics, so he’d naturally assumed it was the Healer he’d discovered. And he hadn’t searched for
anything but the elixir.