Read Master of Dragons for Free Online

was staring at her gauzy skirts, bare arms, and upswept hair. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked in a deep, pleasant drawl. “It’s got to be in the low forties.”
    She gave him a controlled smile. “I’m hot-natured.”
    A younger man might have made a suggestive reply. He only smiled back. “Yeah, my wife wants to sleep with the windows open in the dead of February. She ’bout freezes my backside off. Hot flashes.” He pulled the nozzle out and set it back in its cradle. “Have a nice evening.”
    â€œYou, too.” Nineva felt her liar’s smile turn into an honest grin as he drove off. Absently, she glanced across the parking lot to the stand of trees beyond. And froze.
    A man stood watching her from among the pines. He was tall, well over six feet—six-four or six-five, maybe. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he was dressed in black jeans and a navy blue sweater. He wore a black leather duster and heavy boots that made her think of motorcycles.
    Extending her senses cautiously, she detected no overt sense of magic about him, no buzzing tingle of enchantment. That meant nothing, though. She’d learned to shield her own magic from the time she was old enough to walk.
    She frowned, staring at him. There was something familiar about that square, tough face with its broad cheekbones and strong chin. His blue gaze was intense, sensual. He looked at her the way a man looks at a woman he wants.
    And means to have.
    Oh, sweet Semira . As the realization struck, cold flooded over her skin like a wave of icy seawater. It’s the man from my dream.
    She’d seen him so many times over the past week, wearing just that hot, hungry stare. She’d only taken this long to recognize him because he’d changed the color of his shoulder-length hair: plain human brown rather than the exotic cobalt of her dreams. His eyes were different, too—cool blue instead of the glowing, magical crimson she’d come to fear.
    But there could be no mistake. She knew that face.
    What the hell was he? Sidhe? Enemy? Future lover? Both? The dream certainly implied that he was somehow intimately connected to her destruction.
    He was probably Sidhe, and not one of the nice ones. Hell, for all she knew, he was Ansgar himself.
    For a moment, Nineva considered yanking the nozzle from the tank, jumping in the Honda, and peeling rubber for home. Instead she forced herself to give him a flirtatious smile, as if she hadn’t realized he was anything but human. Then she carefully glanced away, her expression casual despite her pounding heart. Her sweaty hand felt slippery on the nozzle as she tightened her grip on the trigger. Fill, dammit. The gas streaming into the tank sounded barely faster than a trickle.
    Panic clawed at her. She had to get away from him. Had to think. Decide what to do.
    Though she was no longer looking at him, she could still feel him, see him in her mind. His image seemed branded on her retinas.
    Nineva stole another look at him from the corner of one eye. She had to admit he was handsome, if not inhumanly beautiful the way her father had been. His face was a bit too angular and uncompromising for that, with those deep-set eyes narrowed under thick brows. His mouth was wide and unsmiling, his jaw a square, aggressive jut. He looked like he meant business.
    Years of nightmares screamed that his business was her death.
    He started toward her.
    Nineva’s pounding heart leaped into a full gallop. She met his eyes directly in a cool, challenging stare and dropped her shields a bit. Drawing on the Mark, she let it glow over the neckline of her gown, hoping to bluff him with the threat of her power.
    His direct gaze didn’t drop, though a flash of sensual interest heated his eyes as they dipped down to her low-cut bodice. One corner of his mouth kicked up in a half-smile, as though he approved of what he saw.
    Dangerous. He was so dangerous.
    Was he Ansgar?