"But I shouldn't have been able to do that if you weren't there, right?" Something so obvious that you probably thought of it eons ago struck me. "Youwere there, right there. You were at the Venediger's house. That's how you knew I showed up, how you knew I had gone into the garden to see him."

"I was just leaving when you arrived, yes. I remained to see what you would do when you discovered the body, but unfortunately Istvan had discovered that the police were on their way. I decided retreat would be a better choice than to stay to see what you would do."

"You didn't miss much of anything other than me set-ting the building on fire." And finding the Eye of Lucifer, of course. "Why did the Venediger want you to steal the aquamanile? Why didn't he just buy it from Mme. Deauxville?"

Drake turned our hands so that his fingers were stroking mine. It was an extremely erotic feeling, al-though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. "She was his rival."

"Rival?"

"In the sense that she acquired an object he desired, yes. She believed she was the reincarnation of a great mage, but in truth she was deceived."

"And the Venediger? He really was a great mage?"

Drake shrugged, his fingers moving up my arm.

"So the Venediger was trying to gather together the Tools of Bael. Did he know you had the Voice of Lu-cifer?"

"No. I was going to negotiate for the sale of that after I had acquired the aquamanile. He already had the Eye. I knew he would give anything to gain the last of the three."

I peered suspiciously at him. Something he said didn't make sense. Drake had mentioned that he held on to what was his. As avidly as he reacted to the sight of gold, I didn't believe for one moment that he'd give up such a glorious piece as the Voice of Lucifer for mere money. I couldn't help but wonder if he had been planning on double-crossing the Venediger, planning to steal the Eye of Lucifer from him once he had the other two pieces. But if he had intended on doing so, that would mean he meant to use them. But for what purpose? "If the Venediger was such a powerful mage, why would he need the Tools of Bael. What would that do for him?"

Drake laughed and tugged me closer. I leaned bonelessly into him, aware again of the wonderful feeling of his heat, of the spicy scent I knew was him and not cologne, of the sensual feel of his leg and hip pressed against mine. "Sweetheart, why does anyone want power? To conquer, of course."

"Conquer what?" I looked up at Drake, noting ab-sently that he had adorable earlobes.

"With the power of Bael joined with his own? Any-thing. Nothing would be out of his reach. Europe, the Eastern Hemisphere, the world, mortal and immortal… it would all have been his."

A shiver of dread skittered down my back. What made sense for the Venediger also made sense for Drake. He was a powerful wyvern. If he could use the Tools to draw on the power of Bael, was there anything he couldn't do, any treasure he couldn't take?

"No one should have that sort of power," I said firmly.

"No? It is a point many would dispute. Come," he said abruptly, standing and pulling me up.

"Come where? I'm not done questioning you."

"Am f not allowed occasional respite?" he asked, his eyes full of dark laughter again. He tugged me toward the door to the hall.

"What sort of respite?" I couldn't help but think of that big black-and-gold bed upstairs.

"Dinner. I'm hungry, and after emptying your stom-ach, I assumed you would be, as well."

I was a bit ashamed of the smutty direction my thoughts were taking as he led me out to the hall and up the curved staircase I had crept along earlier in the day. "Oh, dinner, yeah, that would be nice.. .. Hey! Your din-ing room isn't upstairs."

His fingers ran around the edge of the armhole of my tunic. "I assumed you would prefer to change into some-thing less stained."

I twitched myself out of his grasp. "Oh. Yes, I would, but my clothes— Oh, blast it!" I stared up at Drake, dis-may filling me at what I'd forgotten. "The police! They know I was there, and they must have gone back to my hotel by now. I'm a wanted criminal! Proust is never going to believe I'm innocent now. They probably even have an arrest warrant out for me. What am I going to do? I can't go back to my hotel or they'll arrest me. My things—"

"I will provide you with whatever you need," he an-swered, leading me down the hall, in the opposite

direc-tion of his bedroom, I was pleased to note. Well, perhaps not completely pleased …

"Really? Do you keep a supply of women's clothing and undergarments available just in case of drop-ins? Wait—maybe I don't want to know the answer to that."

Drake grinned a grin of absolute and complete smug male delight. "Jealous, sweetheart?"

As a dark, brooding, and incredibly sexy man, he was nearly irresistable to me. But playful Drake almost did me in. Immediately I went into full scorn mode. "You wish."

"You don't lie very well, do you? As for the other, I have already offered to retrieve your passport. If you will not take it and leave the country, there is little else I can do other than provide you a safe haven," he said as he flung open the door to a room I hadn't visited earlier. The room was decorated in varying shades of blue and gold. On a very comfortable looking bedspread with a lapis-colored satin cover a variety of women's clothing had been placed. "Just to set your jealous mind at ease, I had Pfl pick a few things up for you while I was showing you around the house. He had to estimate your size; if any-thing doesn't fit, let me know and I'll have him fetch the appropriate replacement. The bathroom is through that door," he pointed to a door next to a large wardrobe. "I thought you might want a shower before dinner. If you need me, the intercom is here."

I looked at the electronic panel set next to the door. "Um … you said you have closed-circuit TV in all the rooms…."

He nodded toward corner. I peered across the room. A small, unobtrusive camera was attached to the ceiling, a tiny little red light glowing as it watched us. Drake pushed a button on the intercom panel. The light on the camera faded into darkness. 'The green button turns the cameras off."

I looked at the camera suspiciously. "How do I know it doesn't just turn the light off? How do I know you're not some strange pervy man who likes to videotape women undressing?"