Taming the Dragon. Kendra Leigh Castle

      ONE

      Considering she was broke and out of a job, the last thing Tess McGarry needed to do was window-shop in some high-end little store.

      Then again, it wasn’t like she had much else to do on a Tuesday afternoon. And the name of the place, Wicked Little Things, was tough to resist. What did a place like that carry? Elegant whips? Golden handcuffs? The view through the large window and into the shop said neither, but that didn’t make her any less curious.

      Besides, it was this or go back to her tiny apartment and start trying to figure out how to get into a working band that wouldn’t break up in three to six months. Again.

      Yeah, she’d look at shiny objects for a while instead.

      Tess pushed through the door, hearing the jingle of a small bell somewhere above her. She lifted a hand to tuck a lock of long auburn hair behind her ear as she looked around, misery quickly turning to interest.

      Whatever this place was, there was nothing kinky about it.

      She walked slowly into the dimly lit space, taking everything in. There were glass cases full of beautiful old jewelry, walls lined with rich wooden shelves that held a jumble of objects, all of which seemed to just...belong here. Tess breathed in, catching the scent of what might have been incense. An odd feeling crept over her, though it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. She didn’t usually go for New Age stuff, but this whole place seemed to vibrate with its own energy.

      She kept moving, her low boot heels making muffled sounds on the wood floor. Tess eyed a waist-high stone gargoyle squatting menacingly in the middle of the store. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was eyeing her back.

      “What is this place?” she murmured.

      “You could call it a curio shop, I suppose.”

      The voice, warm and rich as fresh cream, startled her. Tess spun around, nearly toppling into the gargoyle statue she’d wanted to avoid. The woman who seemed to have appeared out of thin air watched her with eyes the color of jade, one eyebrow only slightly quirked at Tess’s flailing. Despite Tess managing to right herself fairly quickly, it was hard not to stare.

      Whoever this was, Tess thought, she was a vision: long waves of flame-red hair framed a face that was both clever and heart-wrenchingly beautiful. There was something vaguely feline about the tilt of her eyes, and her full lips hinted at a secretive smile, as though she knew all manner of things she shouldn’t. Though she was dressed simply, in an ankle-length dress of deepest red, Tess had no doubt that every inch of the woman was as perfect as that face.

      A face which remained directed toward her, its expression politely inquiring. But there was a hard glint in those strange eyes, one Tess didn’t miss. She felt a flutter in her stomach that was something akin to panic. Which was dumb, she told herself. This was just a little antique store. It wasn’t like the owner, or whoever she was, was going to berate her for looking around.

      Hopefully.

      Tess squared her shoulders and breathed in deeply, then curved her mouth into what she hoped was a friendly smile. The woman’s gaze sharpened with a slight tilt of her head.

      “Hey,” Tess said, trying to keep her voice from quavering. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. “I’ve never noticed this place before.” She looked around. Something, anything to escape the laser-like green eyes boring into her. “You’ve got some great things in here.”

      “Mmm,” the woman agreed. “Not everyone would think so. But then, not just anyone would wander in.”

      “Oh,” Tess said, her gaze pulled back to that deceptively placid expression.

      That was a weird way to put it.

      “I’m Morgan Le Fay, proprietor of Wicked Little Things,” the woman said, extending an elegant, long-fingered hand. The rings that glittered and glinted on it probably cost more than Tess paid in rent every year. She hesitated for the slightest instant, then lifted her own hand to clasp Morgan’s. The instant she did, Tess felt a sizzle up her arm so bright and hot that she jerked, startled. Morgan’s hand clamped hard around hers, though her expression stayed warm and welcoming.

      “I’m glad you’re here, actually. I think you’re exactly who I’ve been waiting for.”

      Tess’s mind started to fog up, but she fought against it, gritting her teeth.

      Morgan