“You haven’t seen the courtyard yet, Gregori. The house opens up to a courtyard in the back, and it’s immense and in quite good shape.” Savannah began heading up the stairs, ignoring his grousing.
“I hate to think what you would call bad shape,” he muttered as he followed her upstairs.
“I wonder why everything is so dusty,” Savannah said. “I had the real estate people come in and clean and get things ready for our arrival.”
“Do not touch anything,” Gregori hissed softly, and very gently he caught her shoulders to put her behind him.
“What is it?” Instinctively she lowered her voice and looked around, trying to see if there was some danger she had been unable to sense.
“If people came and made up the bed and prepared the house for your arrival, then they would have removed the dust too.”
“Maybe they’re incredibly incompetent,” she suggested hopefully.
Gregori glanced at her and found the hard edge of his mouth softening. She was making him want to smile all the time, even in the most serious of situations. “I am certain any company would work overtime trying to make you happy, ma petite. I know I do.”
She blushed at the memory of how he did so. “So why all the dust?” she asked, deliberately distracting him.
“I think Julian left us a message. You have remained with humans so long, you see only with your eyes.”
Savannah rolled her eyes at the reprimand. “And you’ve lived in the hills so long, you’ve forgotten how to have fun.”
The pale eyes slid over her, wrapping her in heat. “I have my own ideas of fun, chérie. I would be willing to show you if you like,” he offered wickedly.
Her chin lifted, blue eyes challenging. “If you think you’re scaring me with your big-bad-wolf routine, you’re not,” she said.
He could hear her heart beat. Smell her scent calling him. “Perhaps I will think of something to change that,” he cautioned her. Gregori turned his attention back to the room. Dust was thick on the walls, the fireplace, the tiled floor. He hunkered down, touched the minute specks lightly, and studied the layout from all angles. His eyes glowed red in the darkened interior.
Savannah stepped backward until she was pressed against the wall. Her attention was on the man, not on what he was doing. She watched the way his body moved, the rippling of his muscles beneath the thin silk shirt, the fluid way he seemed to flow from one area to the other. The way he tilted his head, the way he raked a hand impatiently through his thick mane of hair. He was of another world. Elegant. Dangerous. Deadly. Yet when he turned his head and his perfect mouth smiled at her, he looked sensual instead of cruel. His eyes were cold and lethal, seeing everything, missing nothing, but when he turned his gaze on her, the cold steel warmed to molten mercury. Hot. Exciting. Sexy. Almost sinful.
She blinked to bring the room back into focus. There was a subtle change. The dust seemed to shift position under Gregori’s hand. He moved his arm gracefully, as if he was conducting an orchestra, and patterns began to emerge on the walls and on the floor. Lines shimmered into ancient letters and symbols. Once Gregori unlocked the secret, the hieroglyphics took shape rapidly, fashioned with the dust particles.
“This is beautiful. It’s in the ancient language, isn’t it?” Savannah said softly in awe. She moved in a small semi-circle, not wanting to disturb the air. “How did you know to bring it to life?”
“The way the dust had settled was all too arranged. It lay in a design waiting for us. It is an art few are aware of. I had no idea Julian knew it.” Gregori sounded pleased. “Your father is quite good at this, but I have seen few others who have mastered it.”
“Is my father good at everything?”
Gregori glanced up at the odd note in her voice. “He is the Prince of our people. The oldest of our kind. Yes, he is good at everything he does.”
Unlike her, Savannah thought. “And you’ve known him all your life.”