Taming the Dragon by 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