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  Too tired. That’s the only reason behind the dream. She’d pushed her body and mind too far the last couple of days. When her mental and physical exhaustion disappeared, the dreams would vanish.

  The phone on the bedside table buzzed twice. She hurried over and grabbed the receiver. “Hello.”

  A masculine voice came from the other end. “Ms. Reiley, would you care for supper in your room or do you wish to dine downstairs this evening?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Five thirty, miss.”

  She didn’t care to see the object of her weird dreams just yet. She needed time to come to terms with them. “I’ll dine here this evening.

  “Very well, miss. A tray will be brought up shortly,” the strange man answered.

  A dial tone sounded over the line. Caitlyn set the phone on the hook and faced the room. The drapes were closed. Her bags were stacked against the entrance.

  Someone had entered her room while she slept. She hoped it was the servants. Please, tell me it wasn’t Shay. The idea of having to face him brought heat to her cheeks. The dream reappeared in her mind. No one knew about what had happened, and no one would ever find out.

  Chapter 13

  Shay reclined, pressing his back against an ancient oak. His eyes remained closed while he savored the memory of Caitlyn’s kiss. She thought she’d dreamed. Good, he wanted her to believe that until their last day in this dimension.

  Evening shadows widened and spread over the forest. He winced at the idea of returning to the castle. Dread filled him. The dangerous game he played to awaken her magic threatened to backfire on him. He must stay focused. When he’d met her in the void, the rampant desire rushing through his veins made him forget his purpose.

  So sweet, so tender, her taste lingered in his mind. He shook his head. He must not allow this to affect him. Making love and charming women had, over his lifetime, been an unattached frivolous activity for him. A means to release sexual tension. Yet, with her, he hungered for more. So much more.

  He groaned, pushed down with one hand on the damp moss-coated soil and stood. At least Rhys had not bothered him. He hoped the older man had no idea what had occurred moments earlier.

  Shay stretched, relieving some of the tension from the knotted muscles between his shoulder blades. After two slaps against the seat of his jeans, he meandered through the darkening woods. The castle loomed ahead, its turrets and towers reminding him of a place in Los Angeles. The amusement park with its faery tale castle. He chuckled. If the humans only knew. The power behind Tylwyth Teg magic was greater than they realized. Much stronger than a child’s story.

  The words and notes from the music he performed in this dimension did not come from him but from the suggestions he sent to the songwriters who worked for him. Performing his true music made him capable of mighty destruction as well as great healing, depending on how he chose to use it.

  He halted at the forest’s edge. Standing with his feet apart and hands stuffed in his pockets, he surveyed the landscape. The gardens stretched out before him. The peaceful evening enfolded him in its embrace. A lazy tranquility took control of his body and mind for a few moments. Dusk gathered and the plants darkened. A slight wind whirled past him, bringing with it a pungent smell. Shay froze as he scanned the gloom behind him.

  Wolves. Their strong scent worried him. Magic brought them here. Local beasts were long gone, yet he well-recalled the wet, musky odor. A thousand years before, several had attacked him. But for Rhys, they would have torn him apart. To this day, he still remembered the rank, sour aroma of wild wolf.

  Twigs snapped nearby on his right. Easing from the tree, he leapt back into the forest. Fear no longer controlled him where the wolves were concerned. He had nothing to fear. His life would mean absolutely zero after he helped Caitlyn. He couldn’t die before though. Rhys and Myrielle would never find a way to help her. Caitlyn, whether she knew or not, needed his help to return home. Reaching up, he grasped a branch and swung onto a low limb. He squatted among the leaves, waiting.

  Bushes rustled. A burst of movement erupted from a thicket to his right. Four rangy wolves loped forward. They stopped at the edge of the woods and sniffed at the spot where he had stood only moments before. He waited for them to find him.

  Their yellow gazes whipped up and met his. With vicious snarls and fangs flashing, the wolves sprang against the side of the tree. He grinned and released a shrill, sharp whistle. There was still too much daylight out. He didn’t want to chance a human witnessing his power. There were other ways of dealing with this problem.

  Deep, low howls poured from the back of the castle. Gray streaks flashed across the garden. Three wolfhounds’ long legs ate the distance between the building and the forest. Unerringly, they bounded forward. The wolves, driven by instinct, fled with their tails tucked.

  Shay laughed. Soon, Gwyneth would stop sending her minions. He wanted her to come in person. The desire to crush her throat between his hands burned in him. She must be worried, to try to kill him so soon.

  He jumped down and called the hounds to him. Rubbing their necks and sides, he spoke low, praising them for their worthiness. “Come, boys. Time to go home.”

  Turning, he stepped from the black shadow of the forest onto the cool grass. He strode forward, the hounds prancing at his side. Without realizing, his glanced at Caitlin’s windows. She stood there, staring at him, her hair trailing over her shoulder. He halted, returning her stare. So beautiful, so sweet, so not for him. Raising a hand he saluted her, and continued to the back entrance. He needed a stiff bracer of brandy.

  Chapter 14

  After a dreamless night, Caitlyn rose early. She dressed and hurried down the back staircase. A short hallway led to a swinging door. She gave the wood a gentle push, and the door swung open into the room beyond.

  The kitchen, wide and spacious, appeared on the other side. A long rectangular table sat in the center. To her surprise, Shay sat at the far end, facing her.

  He held a filled spoon midway to his mouth. One brow cocked at her, then he grinned before he popped the rounded end of the spoon between his lips. Images from her previous dream raced through her mind of what those lips did to her. Heat flared in her face.

  She wished the real man wasn’t more attractive than the one in her dream. The white cotton shirt clung to his wide shoulders. His hair curled in wild abandon about his head. As he looked at her, his amethyst eyes deepened in hue. She tried to steady her accelerated breathing.

  With slow steps, she moved to his right side and sat. “Good morning,” she murmured, embarrassed by her memories.

  “It’s a beautiful one.” He took another bite, chewed and swallowed. “We’ll get started as soon as you eat. What would you like?”

  She shrugged. “Toast and juice?”

  Right now, she didn’t care what she ate. Excitement started to overshadow her self-consciousness.

  “That’s all?” The dark brow arched up again. “No wonder you’re so thin. Maybe, while you’re here I can fatten you up.” He grinned and winked. He called over his shoulder for Fred. The man who’d taken her and Blake through the house appeared at another open doorway.

  “Ms. Reiley wishes toast and juice,” Shay informed him.

  Fred nodded, went to the stove and lifted a covered platter. He placed it on the table. When he removed the cover, she saw a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast on a plate. He took the plate and set it in front of her.

  Shay spoke between bites. “Eat, Caitlyn. You need your strength for this interview.”

  She eyed the plate before glancing at his bowl. Curious, she studied the thick mixture. “What’s that?” she asked, nodding toward it.

  “Custard.”

  So, Shay had a sweet tooth. This surprised her. He was lean and appeared in the best of shape. She tore a corner off a slice of toast and ate it. Fred set a glass of orange juice by her plate. She glanced up at him and smiled. The older man bowed his head and ambled ou
t the door.

  “Do you have a sweet tooth?” She dipped a fork into the fluffy eggs and tasted them. Delicious.

  He chuckled. “A tiny bit of one. Of course, I consider this dessert. I’ve already had the full works. Even managed to stuff some sweet oats down. Grazelda cooks the best sweet oats in the world.”

  She smiled and tucked into her meal. After the first taste, she realized she was hungrier than she’d thought. She ate fast, and when she finished, Grazelda bustled in and shooed them out so she could clean the dishes.

  Shay led her to the back sitting room where she’d first seen him yesterday. He produced a tablet and pen from a cabinet and handed them to her. Seated across from him on the sofa, she opened it to the first page.

  “What part of Wales are you from?” Caitlyn glanced down at the blank sheet, pen poised, waiting for him to answer.

  “Here and there.”

  “No, I mean where were you born?” She released a low laugh, angling a glance at him over the rim of her glasses.

  “To the east.” He grinned at her and winked.

  “East Wales?”

  “No. Further.” He shook his head.

  “You weren’t born in Wales?” She frowned, wondering about his short abrupt answers.

  “No.”

  “Then where in the east? England, Russia?”

  “No. Further.”

  Her temper, never a tolerant aspect of her personality, started to rise. “Look, Evers, I don’t like playing games. Can’t you answer my questions in a normal civilized manner?”

  “Of course. All right, I will tell you. I was born far away in a distant galaxy. I am an elf of the Tylwyth Teg clan. A muse of the royal court.” He finished speaking, giving her a firm nod.

  Caitlyn stiffened. Her temper flared and she bit out, “What kind of drugs do you take?”

  His eyes widened, and a twitch started at the corner of his mouth. “None that I’m aware of.”

  She stood and glared at him, “If this is how you intend to treat this interview, I don’t think we need to go any further. Good day, Mr. Evers. I’ll see about scheduling a flight out in the morning.”

  He leapt up and held his hand out, staying her. “Wait. Sit down.”

  The sincere expression on his face gave her a reason to resume her seat. Once she settled, he continued. “Which do you think sounds better? That I am an elf from a distant magical planet or my parents, alcoholics, savagely beat me when I was a child? That I ran away from home at twelve and lived on the streets until I was discovered because of the quickness of my hands in doing card tricks? I much prefer the first explanation than the reality of what happened to me. If I believe I am an elf, then what’s the harm in it?”

  Her heart constricted. His early life had been no better than hers. An image of her mother and father, their clothes soiled and wrinkled and smelling of stale whiskey and the remnants of dope, flashed through her mind. The laughter on their aged faces switched in a blink to livid rage, and she saw her mother’s swinging fist. Caitlyn flinched. If they were truly two of a kind, he had desired his parent’s love but had never received it. The alcohol and drugs were much more important.

  She spoke softly, “Where are they now? Your parents?”

  “Don’t know. I never went back to find out,” he said. “Enough. Ask me another question, and I’ll decide whether to be honest.” He grinned at her.

  Caitlyn smiled and shook her head. One thing about this interview, Evers would keep it interesting.

  They spent the rest of the morning verbally sparring. During a short break, Fred brought them a tray of tea and biscuits. After they ate, she tried to stifle a yawn.

  Shay leaned forward. A worried frown creased his brow. “You’re tired? Was your room all right? Were you comfortable?”

  Caitlyn waved a hand, averted her eyes and mumbled, “Everything’s fine. I was tired before I arrived. I guess I haven’t caught up on my sleep yet. Sorry.”

  “Maybe you didn’t sleep long enough. Would you like to finish later? I don’t mind,” he said.

  She raised her gaze and stared into his worried eyes. Her breath stuck somewhere between her lungs and her lips. Desire flared. She wanted to reach out and brush away the lines on his forehead.

  “I’ve been dreaming a lot lately.” Oh, god, she couldn’t believe she’d said that. Why had she told him that?

  “Dreaming?” He tilted his head, a grin forming on his sculptured lips. “What about? Was I in your dream?”

  Fire burned her cheeks, and she squeaked, “No.”

  She cleared her throat and put strength in her voice. “You were not in my dream. Listen, maybe I do need a little nap...”

  Shay stood and moved to sit next to her, staring at her with a serious expression.

  “Caitlyn, you’re not a very good liar.”

  “I am not–”

  Leaning closer, he spoke low. The deep tone vibrated over her nerve endings. “Yes, you are. I can tell. You dreamed about me. What happened? Damn, I wish I could have been there. Come on, Caitlyn, spill the beans. Sing like a canary.”

  A laugh bubbled from her. Her embarrassment ebbed. “Dream on, Evers. You’ll have to show up in another one to know for sure.”

  “Aw, tell me. I swear I don’t gossip,” he said, shifting closer. He reached out, cupping her jaw in his palm. “What happened?” Flames scorched her skin where his hand rested. She tried to breathe. He moved nearer, his gaze focused on her mouth.

  A gust of wind ruffled the pages on her tablet. Caitlyn glanced toward the French doors leading to the garden outside. Rhys stood in the opening, his eyes hooded, staring at them. Shay released her face and eased away, and she missed the warmth of his touch.

  “Excuse me. The shipment you’ve been waiting for has arrived. I thought you might like to inspect it.” The blond man’s face remained expressionless.

  Tension radiated between the two men. Curious and hoping to delve deeper into the conflict bubbling under the surface between the two of them, she started to question Shay, but he got to his feet.

  “Of course. Caitlyn, I’m sorry, but I must go.” Without meeting her gaze, he crossed the room and brushed by Rhys. The gardener nodded to her, turned and followed him.

  Caitlyn stared at the closed door for several minutes. Something major was definitely wrong with Shay and Rhys’s relationship. The harder she thought, the harder it was to fit the fragments of their odd behavior together. Rhys couldn’t still be upset about Shay’s little snip at the party in Los Angeles, could he? Maybe they’d had words on the flight home. If not, then the friendly way they acted toward each other in LA was fake.

  The hostility she sensed coming from Rhys toward Shay had not started in the last two days. This type of animosity tended to grow with passing years. They had claimed to be friends since Shay was a child. What had happened in the past which dug such a rift between them? She didn’t know, but she would find out.

  Sighing, she closed the tablet. The idea of a short nap tempted her. A disturbing thought tiptoed through her mind, but she quickly pushed it away. She was not starting to like sleeping better than she liked being awake.

  No, she just needed a little rest, and if she dreamed...well, she couldn’t help that. After all, a person couldn’t control her dreams. Rising, she headed for her room.

  Chapter 15

  A cold breeze ruffled Shay’s hair. He gritted his teeth. Behind him by several feet, Rhys’s aura shoved him forward with each step.

  The bastard possessed perfect timing. One kiss was all he wanted, one, but as soon as he made headway with her, Rhys had to interrupt. Again, damn it.

  The gardener’s shed came into view. Without stopping, Shay threw open the door and stepped inside. Pivoting, he barely saw the well-aimed fist looming before his eyes. Caught off guard, he crashed against the work table on the far side of the room, tilting it on its back legs. Tools and clay pots scattered across the one-room building.

  “If you touch her agai
n, I will see you dead.” Rhys towered over him, fury contorting his handsome features.

  Shay straightened and swiped at the side of his mouth. Blood streaked the back of his hand. He glared at Rhys. “Good. Kill me now. Be done with it.”

  “You are unfit to lick her shoes.” The flesh on Rhys’s face flared a crimson hue. One hand rose, but he became still, his gaze boring into Shay’s. The older man inhaled a deep breath. His coloring faded to normal.

  When he spoke, his voice was calmer. “No, I don’t believe I will. Not now, at least. She is opening to you. I can sense it. But, I have come to the realization that the years you were imprisoned have affected your memory. ’Tis why I am watching you. Let me remind you once more. Your task is to open her mind to magic. Not once did I grant permission for you to seduce my daughter. Am I making myself clear?”

  Shay shifted, anger still controlling his thoughts. “I don’t care about what you want.”

  “You will. I swear on my lady, you will,” Rhys bit back.

  Before Shay could open his mouth to speak, his feet burned. Roots emerged from his flesh. The ground trembled and cracked.

  “No,” he shouted, reaching out and grabbing the other man by his shirtfront. The flesh covering Shay’s body tightened and split. Twigs sprouting leaves sprang from the fissures. Pain flooded his body. Gasping, he managed to rasp out, “She…needs…me. You…know it.”

  Rhys smiled, the twist of his lips more mocking than amused. He stepped back, tugging his shirt free. “Perhaps, but then, perhaps not. She is here, and that is more than what I had hoped. You will consider your actions for the remainder of this day. Mayhap, by the morn, you will see the folly of disobeying me.” He pivoted and left, silently shutting the door. The lock rattled.

  Unable to move, Shay stood suspended in a half-flesh, half-tree form. He tried to straighten his back but pain bolted through him. He stared at his outstretched arms. Blood seeped from his torn skin.