Heiress to a Curse. Zandria Munson
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April flashed a smile then turned to the man, offering him the same gesture. “Good morning,” she chirped.
“Good morning.” He nodded.
She flounced into the hall and began chattering away. “My name is April,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m only visiting, but you’ll see me around often.”
“My name is Marius Drakon.” He accepted her proffered hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Alexandra remained in the doorway. She couldn’t help but notice how deep and rich his accented voice was—like smooth, warm chocolate spread thickly over fresh fruit. She pulled the folds of her robe tighter when his eyes moved to her.
April motioned for her to come closer. “This is Alexandra, your new neighbor.”
“Hello.” Alexandra gave him a quick smile as she accepted his hand.
“It is a pleasure,” he said quietly.
Lean fingers enclosed her slender ones. The heat he exuded was electrifying.
April’s initial assertions were all too correct—the man was positively gorgeous. He was tall, and she was forced to incline her head to meet intense, slate-gray eyes that appraised her with an undeterminable emotion. He wore a white gauze shirt and black pants, and his long dark hair fell loose over his broad shoulders. He seemed groomed into old money, and he wasn’t wearing a ring.
Silently, Alexandra cursed herself. It wasn’t every day that she encountered such a man, and today of all days she just had to be barefoot with her hair in a wild cascade from a restless sleep. She could feel his eyes trailing over her, assessing. It was almost as if he could see right through the pink terry that covered her slender curves.
“You have an accent,” April commented. “Where are you from?”
A rise of discomfort enveloped Alexandra as Marius’s attention remained fixed to her. Strangely, she was becoming quite aware of her nakedness beneath her robe. Her nipples began to tingle and harden and she was grateful that the thick material adequately concealed their betrayal. It seemed like minutes lapsed before his silver stare finally left her.
“I am Romanian,” he supplied at last. “I have only just moved to the United States.”
April’s smile brightened. “Romanian, wow, so is Alexandra. You two have something in common already,” she informed him. “Maybe you guys can discuss it over coffee sometime. She has lots of free time, you know. She is single, after all.”
Alexandra shot April a deadly look. “Well, my mother was Romanian and my father was American,” she said to Marius with a strained smile. “And I would love to tell you the story of their meeting sometime, but right now we have to get ready for a fundraiser.”
“Nice meeting you.” April waved and shut the door.
Once they were securely out of sight, Alexandra turned on her. “What is wrong with you?” she asked in a harsh whisper. The woman was her best friend, but God, she could be embarrassing!
April regarded her with an incredulous expression. “I should be asking you that question!” she replied in a similar tone. “You had that tall, handsome hunk out there practically drooling all over you, and all you could do was stand there like some mute pigeon! Then, when I try to help things along, you run?”
Alexandra spun away and stalked to her bedroom. “Well, forgive me if I’m not inclined to make dinner dates with strange men in my robe. And he wasn’t drooling,” she countered. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe that she was so physically stunning that she’d taken the man’s breath away—especially after just rolling out of bed.
April was hot on her heels. “Are you kidding? Did you even see the way he was looking at you? He could barely take his eyes off you.”
“He was probably wondering when I last combed my hair,” she said, sliding open the door to her closet. “How could you do that to me, April? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have him see me this way?”
April placed her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about? You look …” She paused, wincing a little. “Well, we had to act quickly. There was no time to be concerned with appearances.”
With a groan, Alexandra disappeared into her closet. The man was beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t enough. So before she got herself all wound up weighing the potential for a relationship with him, she’d need to learn more about him.
“If it bothers you so much, then the next time you meet him, we’ll have to make sure you look your best,” she said.
“The next time?” Alexandra yelled from the closet. “I hope there isn’t a next time!”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. And besides, you can’t avoid him forever. He lives next door.”
“Can we just change the subject?” Alexandra emerged holding two dresses. “Blue or lavender?”
“Lavender.”
Alexandra nodded. “Great. Now I’m going to take a shower.” She tossed the lavender dress across the bed and headed for the bathroom. “And not one more word about Mr. 13A from you.”
“Fine!” April shouted after her.
Alexandra closed the bathroom door and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn’t getting any younger, she told herself. Perhaps it was time she put some of her inhibitions aside. Her new neighbor was gorgeous and possibly interested in her. It would be a shame not even to try to get to know him.
Chapter 2
Marius remained in the entryway of his new apartment long after the door across the hall slammed shut. The image of the woman called Alexandra—the woman he’d been sent to kill—remained in his mind. He’d been hard-pressed to take his eyes from her, for she’d looked even lovelier than she had the night before. The shadows had deftly hidden the sleek lines of her face—a straight and regal nose that was befitting her lineage, long feathery lashes and soft, pouting lips. She was beautiful.
He’d noted that his mention of being Romanian had drawn her attention, and rightly it should have. Romania had been her home once, some five hundred years past. Her curious hazel eyes had reflected no knowledge of this. Instead, a gentle and honest nature had become apparent. And something more—strength, and a silent beckoning that oddly, he felt the urge to explore. It was hard to believe that behind those alluring pools lurked the presence of the witch Necesar.
Sometime in the early evening, while he was unpacking a set of two-hundred-year-old books, he heard a soft cry and a thud. He opened the door of his apartment and was surprised to find Alexandra on all fours in the middle of the carpeted hall, gathering packages of shredded cheese, shrimp and fresh parsley that littered the floor around her. A small, pink cat toy that lay a few feet behind her was the obvious culprit of her misstep.
“Mr. Winston and his damned cats,” she grumbled a second before she realized that she was no longer alone. Slowly, she turned her head toward him. “Hello,” she said with a pained expression.
“Good