Free VirtualDesire by Ann Lawrence

ducked under his arm,
escaping to the clearer air of the living room. All her pictures rocked askew
as he thumped after her. “If that isn’t the most conceited comment I’ve ever
heard. I-I-I was just checking out your hair. It’s terrible.”
    His hand went to his head. His haughty look vaporized to one
of confusion. “My hair? What has my hair to do with the fact that my beard is
gone?” His anger rumbled through the small apartment. “And I liked my beard!”
    “It was a pretty scruffy beard, believe me. Here.” She
pulled out a chair. “Sit down and let me fix your hair. If I didn’t know
better, I’d say you really were crossing the ice fields—without a hat.”
    She whipped a comb out of her purse and separated the dry,
broken strands of hair at his brow from the rest of the shoulder-length mass.
She tried to ignore the fact that he was frowning at the center of her chest
again. Of course, the last time he’d stared at her chest, he’d fallen asleep—not
much of a compliment.
    “So what did you want in Atlantic City?” she asked to
distract him, but when he looked up, her hands fum­bled at her chore. His deep
blue eyes were fringed with dark lashes—not gold, not brown, but a pewter
color.
    “I am seeking my friend Kered,” he said, interrupting her
thoughts on eyelashes. He was silent for many moments, and she thought he was
wrestling with some decision. Perhaps he was going to tell her he was from the
modeling agency.
    “Your friend Kered? Sure. I guess all you warriors are
friends.” She swallowed a smile. “I know his wife—lifemate—Maggie. Did you know
she’s going to have a baby?”
    His smooth brow wrinkled in a frown. “Nay. I did not know.”
The expression on his face was troubled. His blue eyes locked on hers. “He
possesses a dagger I must retrieve and return to the council. I would not tell
you this, except that I fear that without someone’s assistance, I would become
lost searching for Kered.”
    She was lost, almost unable to tear her eyes from
his. They were the blue of a stormy sea right now.
    “Uh, what? A dagger? What kind?” She forced her mind to
focus on what he’d said. His hair was very thick and heavy in her hands, like
skeins of rough silk.
    “A jeweled dagger. About this long.” He spread his hands about
a foot apart. “‘Tis just a trifling piece.”
    His broad shoulders rippled as he shrugged and she almost
sighed aloud. She knew just the knife he wanted. Maggie had given it to her
with a cryptic message that one day she, Gwen, would believe Tolemac really
existed. “If the dagger’s not worth much, then why do you want it?”
    “That is not something I can tell you, a woman.” His eyes
dropped to her chest again; his frown deepened. Despite the cold words, she did
not sense that he was insulting her. Warriors rarely gave women any credit, she
imagined.
    Whoa. He is not from Tolemac. He is not really looking
for a dagger. He is… What is he?
    A confused cover model sent from the agency? A wacky war
gamer too into his role? Or… An idea burst over her. Maybe he was payback.
    Payback for inviting a gang of Tolemac Wars fans to
her friend Maggie’s wedding. Maybe she and her husband were playing a practical
joke on her—bent on making her think this guy was really from Tolemac and
then—zing—he’d whip out a cell phone and call them to tell them she’d been well
and truly suckered.
    The idea made more and more sense. Her friends had sworn
vengeance. After all, the fans had been a tad disruptive at the wedding. So
she’d forgotten to tell the group not to bring their swords… So a fight had
broken out… Well, there was no way she was giving Vad the dagger and playing
right into his practical-joking hands—not that they weren’t really nice hands.
However, it might be fun to go along with the joke and somehow turn it back on
Maggie and her husband.
    “This knife you’re seeking, is it sacred?” she asked,
smoothing his hair through her