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DON’T BELIEVE THE STRIPE
PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY

MILLY TAIDEN
 CONTENTS

About the Book

Don’t Believe the Stripe

1. Taariq
2. Sierra
3. Taariq
4. Sierra
5. Taariq
6. Sierra
7. Taariq
8. Sierra
9. Sierra
10. Sierra
11. Sierra
12. Taariq
13. Sierra
14. Taariq
15. Sierra
16. Taariq
17. Sierra
18. Taariq
19. Sierra
20. Sierra
21. Taariq

About the Author

Also by Milly Taiden
 ABOUT THE BOOK

Can a simple human Earthling break a curse and save a tiger shifter
with love?
Taariq Xanon, tiger shifter leader of Nova Aurora’s
Southern Mountain Streak, has a big problem. Rumors say
that the Streak is cursed because their leader hasn’t chosen a mate,
and his people are starting to demand that he settle down. So
when he meets his mate, he’s sure everything’s going to be
fine. Right? Not so fast.
Sierra Rylee, friends with Nova Aurora’s queen, Bella, has not
seen her friend in years. So when she can’t find the perfect
anniversary gift for Bella, Gerri Wilder convinces Sierra to surprise
her friend in person. And would it be so bad if Gerri can help her
meet a nice guy in the process? Little does Sierra know that
Gerri has big plans for her. Once she sees Taariq, she’s
willing to give an alien shifter a try.
The big sexy Taariq sweeps Sierra off her feet, but something
else is afoot. Someone from Taariq’s past isn’t happy with Sierra’s
presence and is willing to stop at nothing to break the couple apart.
Can these two figure out who’s targeting Sierra before it’s
too late?
 This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are
fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any
way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By
Latin Goddess Press
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://millytaiden.com
Don’t Believe the Stripe
Copyright © 2022 by Milly Taiden
Cover: Willsin Rowe
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
February 2022

Created with Vellum

 DON’T BELIEVE THE STRIPE
PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

MILLY TAIDEN
 —For my readers,

You are all amazing.

 1
TA A R I Q

T aariq stood on his terrace during a bright evening with his good
friend Yana. His mind swirled with concern about his people,
which was why he had called Yana over in the first place. She
was always so helpful in getting his mind balanced, and in the past,
measuring things out with his body. Now, she was just a great friend
and he was glad she’d understood that they wouldn’t work out as
anything other than that.
But this wasn’t that kind of visit.
Taariq drank Sidaii as he looked over at the horizon of his land.
The sky glistened in flaming orange with streaks of bright pink. He
stood at the railing while Yana lounged on the patio furniture.
“You need to learn to relax,” Yana remarked.
Taariq continued to stare at the sky.
“I’m pretty good at relaxing,” he spoke to the horizon. “It’s
everything else I’m concerned about.”
Yana sighed and stretched herself out more on the long cushion.
Taariq gripped the ledge, his mind a symphony of despondent
sounds. He was worried about the infertility of his people, the tigers
of Nova Aurora’s Southern Mountain Streak. There had been no
medical or scientific reason why the women weren’t able to produce.
It had left him with many sleepless nights.
Which was another reason why he called Yana, a friend who
often comforted him in his bed and who was also a witch within
Taariq’s tribe. She was wise and often counseled him during difficult
times.
“I have some considerations to share with you,” Yana said.
Taariq turned and leaned against the terrace. Yana rolled over
and lay on her side. Yana was captivating, her supple skin bathed in
the sun’s ray, blue eyes glimmering like spectacular pools. But she
would never be anything more than that to Taariq. Like a painting to
appreciate.
Yana pushed her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose.
“Have you thought that this might be an ancient curse?” Yana
said.
Taariq raised an eyebrow.
“That would be your expertise, not mine,” he responded.
“We’ve known each other for years, darling,” Yana said, sitting up
straight on the patio couch. “I thought you would have picked up on
some of my knowledge, perhaps?”
Her tone was playful, but Taariq wasn’t in a playful mood. He was
stoic and delivered this message to her with a solemn stare.
“Fine,” Yana said. “It’s not unheard of that when the leader of the
Streak isn’t mated, the rest of the tribe becomes barren.”
Taariq crossed his arms, letting the glass rest upon his forearm.
He thoughtfully looked off into the golden fluid like it offered him
answers.
“That’s not something I was counting on,” Taariq finally said.
Yana nodded.
“It’s something I’ve come across before, in other groups and
within my family history,” Yana said.
Taariq grunted to himself, then finished off his drink. He set it
down as he sat across from Yana. He hunched over on the patio
chair like a giant sitting on a log.
“So, how did your ancestors remedy this issue?” Taariq asked
gently.
Taariq was as strong as he was gentle. He found that leading his
group with an iron fist didn’t always work out as planned, so he built
up aspects of his empathy with equal intensity.
“They mated,” Yana said with a laugh. “Why haven’t you?”
 Taariq looked up at his friend. His deep hazel brown eyes were
mesmerizing, which made people trust him instinctively.
“Trust me, I’ve tried,” Taariq said. “But none of the tigresses are
my fated mate.”
“You can still pick one,” Yana said. “It doesn’t have to be your
fated mate. That way, it will just break the curse and bring out some
stability.”
Taariq shook his head. He could feel Yana’s eyes on him, and he
had an idea of what was going through her mind.
“I’ve never been able to commit myself falsely. It would be
foolish to start now,” he said.
Yana reached her hand out to touch his. It was soft and inviting,
but Taariq did not look up at her.
“It could be us ... if you wanted,” Yana said with a husky voice.
It was the tone she usually used in the bedroom.
Taariq felt laughter rising in his stomach, moving all the way up
through his throat and out his mouth. It was thicker and heftier than
he had intended it to be.
“That wouldn’t work, Yana,” Taariq said, finally looking up at her.
Yana’s playful expression melted away into a dark sternness. She
thrust her hand away from him, then began to gather her things.
Taariq knew he had hurt her feelings, but it was also the truth.
They were friends who slept together sometimes, but that did not
equal a mate to him.
“Good luck with your journey,” Yana said, walking off the terrace.
“Yana, wait,” Taariq said.
But she had already passed through the sliding doors. Taariq
didn’t have the energy to chase after her. He felt guilty about his
laughter but not the sentiment. They would not work together as
fated mates.
The next morning, Taariq set off to visit his friend King Alyx, the
ruler of Nova Aurora. It was a fair distance away, so he used his
driver and smaller ship for the trip. He needed time to think about
the plight of his people.
King Alyx and his wife, Bella, were having a big anniversary bash
at their castle. Taariq had decided to travel there a few days earlier,
so he could discuss the issue of infertility within the Southern
Mountain Streak with Alyx and the queen.
Plus, it would be a change of scenery for his weary mind.
His ship arrived after a four-hour flight and came upon a
decadent scene.
It was winter, which was rare for the area where the castle
resided, so it was covered in sprinkles of chalky snow, looking like it
popped right out of a glass globe. It always made Taariq feel calm.
He stepped out of the car and moved through the path to the entry
door.
The snow blanketed the scene with a silent serenity. He closed
his eyes as he knocked on the giant door.
A servant answered, but Taariq could already hear the King’s
loud, booming voice behind him.
“No need to knock, my friend!” Alyx bellowed.
The servant shifted away and gave him a thankful bow. But Alyx
was already on his way, his giant stature making the stone floor
quiver.
“Come here, you big bastard!” he shouted.
Taariq braced himself for what was to come. He was considered
of average size for his beings, standing at seven feet, but Alyx was
about a foot taller. Taariq’s face was smothered deep into Alyx’s
chest when he collided with him.
“Hello to you too,” Taariq breathed harshly.
Alyx’s laugh was as thunderous as his entire presence. He pulled
away from Taariq and clapped his hand on his shoulder.
“I’m so glad to see you, my friend,” the king said.
“I feel the same way,” Taariq responded.
They made their way through the castle into the dining area
where Queen Bella was waiting. Her demeanor was also far more
reserved—so she spent more time thinking than speaking.
“Ahh, our friend,” Queen Bella said, holding out her arms.
Taariq reached out and embraced her. She patted him lightly on
the back, meeting his energy equally.
“We apologize for the weather conditions,” Bella remarked.
 Four fires blazed in the dining hall, along with several fireplaces
scattered throughout the castle to keep each room comfortable.
Taariq was wearing a thick fur coat and found himself sweating as
he greeted his friends.
“It’s no fault of yours,” Taariq said. “It’s very scenic, I must say.”
“We made it this way just for you,” Alyx said with a wink.
They all laughed, and the king offered Taariq a seat. It felt nice
for him to be amongst friends who understood the seriousness of his
concerns.
They were served lunch which included a plethora of meats,
bread, cheese, fruits, and vegetables unique to the region. Taariq
ate quietly while Alyx ranted about who was attending the party a
few days from now as well as their designated rank.
“You seem distracted, Taariq,” Bella said.
Taariq was fingering some grapes around his plate when he
glanced up. Bella was looking at him, and he marveled at not only
her beauty, but also her powers of perception.
“Yes!” Alyx agreed. “Tell us what is bothering you, good sir.”
Taariq stopped playing with the fruit and leaned back in his
chair.
“I waited to inform you both about this because I thought I could
remedy it, myself,” Taariq began. “But the situation seems to be
more dire than I had first anticipated.”
Alyx and the queen remained silent, merely sipping on their wine
and listening with the best of intentions.
Taariq continued.
“Yana suggests that our issue of infertility could be due to my
lack of a fated mate,” Taariq said. “She has seen this kind of
situation before, and all previous maladies were cured by finding a
mate.”
Alyx sighed, then placed his hands on his belly.
“And what was her suggestion?” Alyx asked.
Taariq looked back and forth between Alyx and Bella. He did not
want to slight his friend again, but he needed to be as honest as
possible.
 “She suggested we wed, and I made the mistake of laughing at
the suggestion,” Taariq said, looking down at his plate.
It was Alyx’s turn to burst into laughter. Bella smiled small, in her
usual, polite manner.
“It’s difficult to resist that impulse,” Bella said reassuringly. “Yana
is a good friend to you, but nothing more. I don’t think a curse could
be undone while love was lacking.”
Taariq nodded. This was something he knew in his heart, but it
was not something he believed Yana wanted to hear.
“Plus,” Alyx said, leaning forward. “She is a witch. They can be
hard to trust.”
Taariq nodded. He didn’t want to admit that either, but alas, it
was a doubt that he harbored inside him.
Alyx threw back the last of his wine, then held it up high in the
air as if in victory.
“I have just recalled something!” Alyx proclaimed.
Bella and Taariq looked at King Alyx. His grin was wide and a
little unnerving.
“I have invited Gerri Wilder, the intergalactic matchmaker, to our
party,” he said. “Have you heard of her?”
Taariq shook his head.
“Well, she hasn’t made a mistake yet,” Alyx continued. “I am
going to give you her number.”
Alyx called over a servant, from whom he requested the phone
number of this mysterious Gerri. Taariq smiled with thanks but still
did not feel the utmost confidence in any matchmaking process.
Later that night, while alone in his quarters, Taariq made the
fateful call. He wanted to get it over with because it would leave him
with more time to find his actual fated mate if it didn't work.
A soft and delicate voice answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Gerri Wilder speaking,” she said.
Taariq didn’t know why, but he was taken aback by her calmness.
“Hi, Ms. Wilder,” Taariq began. “I am a friend of King Alyx and
Queen Bella Treyvaal. I am told that you provide a matchmaking
service.”
 “A flawless one,” she remarked. “I have been informed of the
situation by your king. I assure you, you have nothing to worry
about.”
Taariq wasn’t sure how to respond. Her relaxation irked him, and
he tried to assert the seriousness of the situation.
“The infertility of my people is of the utmost concern,” he
relayed. “This is an extreme measure we are taking.”
“Oh, I comprehend the gravity of the situation,” Gerri continued.
“You’re going to have to give me a few days to get back to you, Mr.
Xanon.”
Taariq didn’t know what else to say. Something was reassuring in
her voice and made him want to believe her, but did he have any
reason to do so? Other than the fact Alyx and Bella vouched for her?
Taariq hung up, feeling bewildered but also very calm. It was a
feeling he often didn’t trust. He tried to let it go as he left his
quarters and walked to the main dining area. He knew the problem
would still be sitting on his pillow once he turned in for the night.
Taariq walked through the dim hallways, imagining what having a
mate would feel like. He had never felt love before in his life, other
than a love for his people. Anything else felt surreal, even fictional.
Should he let himself believe that Gerri could get the job done?
He entered the dining room where Alyx and several friends had
gathered for a game of cribbage. It was his favorite game, and he
always challenged visitors to a few rounds once he had gotten a few
rounds into his belly.
Bella wasn’t fond of card games, so she sat off to the side,
watching the flames of a nearby fireplace dance. She smiled up at
Taariq as he entered.
“Is the job done?” she inquired.
Taariq nodded.
“Time will tell, I suppose,” he said.
Bella turned back to the fire while Taariq took a seat next to her
husband.
“Let’s deal you in, my friend,” Alyx said.
His visitors nodded at Taariq. He had met a few of them before,
so there was no need for fresh greetings. He tried to let himself
drown within the light fun of the card game.
That proved to be difficult. All he could think about was Gerri and
why she was so sure about finding his fated mate. Did she only need
a few days to search the entire galaxy for someone who would be fit
to be his wife?
It all seemed absurd, but Taariq did his best to let go of control
for merely one evening. Which, in itself, proved to be a daunting
task for him. He plied himself with a few drinks … just enough to
make his mind watery and easy-going.
 2
SIERRA

S ierra Rylee stepped into the elevator in the bustling mall. She
wasn’t the biggest fan of crowds, so she was thankful for a few
seconds of breathing room. When she got to the third floor, a
gorgeous woman with long snow-white hair was waiting.
Sierra tried to look away as the woman got on and pressed the
button for the top floor. The glass elevator rose slowly, beckoning
over the cluster of shoppers.
“It’s wild out there,” the woman said.
Sierra was caught off guard. She clutched her purse and looked
off into the distant seas of people below them.
“A little too wild for my liking,” Sierra replied.
The woman laughed a gentle laugh. There was something
familiar about this woman, or there was just something comforting
about her that made Sierra’s nerves let out a sigh of relief.
“What brings you out into this buying frenzy today?” the woman
asked.
“It's a friend’s wedding anniversary,” Sierra revealed.
The woman nodded. They had almost reached their point of
departure, but Sierra wanted to continue their conversation.
“What do you have in mind to buy?” the mystery woman
inquired.
Sierra sighed.
“I honestly have no idea,” she admitted. “She has everything
anyone would want.”
 “Maybe your presence is enough of a gift,” the woman relayed.
The elevator doors parted. The woman stepped off with her and
remained by her side.
Sierra let out a laugh. The woman turned to her, revealing her
knowing expression even more.
“She lives on Nova Aurora. I wouldn’t even know how to get
there,” Sierra said.
The women were standing still at the hub of the busy mall. Sierra
felt like everyone around them moved in slow motion, streaks of
color and sound fading as fast as they could be interpreted.
Before Sierra could walk away, the woman lightly touched her
wrist. She looked down, utterly confused.
“My name is Gerri Wilder,” the woman said. “And I know I can
help you.”
Sierra stood still, holding her purse tightly. It was an impulse of
her anxiety to hold things in close, to stop breathing, for her ribs to
move inward into her body. It wasn’t something she liked about
herself, but she was mindful of it, at least.
Gerri opened her hand and guided them toward an empty bench.
Sierra followed, inquisitive and intrigued.
They sat, and once again, the flutter of colors and words
surrounding them disappeared. Sierra remained silent, readying
herself for whatever was to come.
“I am going to help you get to Nova Aurora,” Gerri said.
Sierra frowned, still holding herself tightly wound.
“Did Bella send you?” she asked.
Gerri shook her head lightly, with a wide smile.
“No one sent me. I’m just here to help you,” Gerri said. “I
promise you, attending this anniversary party will be worthwhile. In
more ways than one.”
She blinked. “What like you’re gonna find me the perfect man
like Bella found over there?”
Gerri shrugged. “If you’d like.”
She lifted a brow in disbelief. “Yeah, okay. Knock yourself out.
But were you serious about taking me to see Bella?”
“Absolutely.”
 For a few moments, Sierra thought she was being pranked. She
had been working so many hours at the hospital her days had
morphed into one another. She had been on autopilot, sleeping and
yet utterly awake.
Despite how strange the interaction was, Sierra knew that she
could use a refresher and wanted to see her good friend. It had
been a while, and her advice always seemed to lift her spirits.
Gerri seemed wise. She seemed to know something which Sierra
herself wasn’t aware of. She decided to take a plunge and accepted
her invitation.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
“Take you to Nova Aurora and find you the perfect man?”
Sierra snorted. “Sure, why not.”
Sierra returned home without a gift and began packing her things
for the trip. She was excited and perplexed, but she tried to tell
herself to go with the flow of the moment. Gerri was to meet her
here at the apartment, and they would make their way to her
friend’s planet.
But Gerri arrived early, which made Sierra self-conscious about
the state of her apartment. She had barely any time to clean dishes
or do laundry, nor had she had many guests over in recent memory.
Gerri waved this off, and Sierra believed her. Why was this
woman so easy to trust?
Beneath Gerri’s silky blouse was a forest green stone tied to
rope-like material. Sierra asked her about it, and Gerri gripped it
tightly.
“This is how we are getting to Nova Aurora,” Gerri said.
Sierra knew these types of spells existed, but she had never
come across any. Like everything Gerri said, it felt acceptable and
safe.
Once Sierra had gathered all her things, Gerri asked her to step
close to her. Sierra did so, holding onto her bag and purse.
“Put your hand on my shoulder,” Gerri asked.
Sierra did so, realizing that she and this woman were the same
height. Standing so close to her, Sierra realized that Gerri she was
not as old as she initially believed. Gerri smiled at her, and Sierra
smiled back.
“You might feel a bit dizzy afterward,” Gerri said softly. “But trust
me, this is normal.”
Sierra nodded, inherently trusting.
They both closed their eyes, and Sierra began to feel uneasy. It
was like riding a roller coaster that spun in rapid circles when she
was a kid. She felt a surge of cold, then the most pleasant warmth.
Eventually, she stood on solid ground and was encouraged to open
her eyes.
The women were still holding each other, except they were no
longer in Sierra’s apartment. It was a lot dimmer, and a musk like
fragrance floated on the air.
Sierra looked around and noted the torches on the walls along
with the ancient architecture lining the staircases.
She knew where she was and felt a rush of joy at the thought of
seeing her friend.
She let go of Gerri and smiled.
“Are you ready?” Gerri asked.
Without a response, Sierra was led to Queen Bella’s quarters.
Sierra knocked on the door excitedly, like they were back in their old
college dorms.
“My gorgeous friend!” Bella exclaimed as she opened the door.
Sierra felt a sudden gush of sadness as she saw her longtime
friend. Her eyes filled with tears as she fell into her arms. They
embraced tightly, and neither noticed when Gerri disappeared into
the darkness of the castle.
“It has been way too fucking long!” Sierra screamed.
Bella smiled widely and held her friend in her arms. It was her
gentleness that attracted Sierra to Bella. She had initially been
attending college to become a nurse like Sierra when they met.
Sierra often felt like the world of medicine lost a great heart and
thinker when Bella had decided to wed Alyx.
“You can say that again!” Bella said with a chuckle.
The women sat on Bella’s giant bed and began to update one
another on the progress of their lives. Sierra was so energized that
she didn't hear the bell ringing behind Bella.
Bella paused mid-sentence, then sighed. She touched Sierra on
her thigh.
“I’ve got a few meetings to attend,” Bella said softly. “But I want
you to meet someone I think you are going to like.”
Sierra felt her stomach turn. She hoped she wasn’t being set up
with some guy again as they never seemed to be her cup of tea.
When Bella got up from the bed and opened the door, a woman
was standing there. Not that Sierra wasn’t open-minded, but she
had only a taste for men for the time being.
“This is Mai,” Bella said.
“Hey, there,” Mai said with a cute grin widening across her face.
Sierra stood and offered her hand. They shook hands, and Sierra
picked up a sunny vibe from her.
“Damn, you’re strong!” Mai said playfully.
Sierra laughed. It had been a while since she had genuinely
laughed a laugh she felt in her soul.
“Well, you know,” Sierra lifted her arm, flexing her bicep. “I’ve
got to stay strong to fend off all the men this one throws at me.”
Sierra gestured toward Bella, who let out a howl of a laugh.
“Me? I’m not the one you should worry about when Gerri’s
around.”
“I know. She already offered to find me the perfect man”
Bella chuckled and guided the women to depart from her
quarters, touching Sierra’s cheek before closing the door.
“I’m so happy you’re here, darling,” Bella said
The heavy door drifted closed, and Mai and Sierra were left in
the somber gloom of the castle.
Mai immediately turned to Sierra with a mischievous look on her
face.
Sierra gave her a sly smile back.
“What?” Sierra asked.
“How long has it been since you’ve toured Aurora?” Mai inquired.
Sierra’s eyes drifted up toward the ceiling. She truly had lost her
sense of time.
“Honestly, I have never been here before,” Sierra responded.
 Mai lightly tapped Sierra’s forearm.
“Well, since Bella is going to be busy for a while,” Mai said,
rubbing her hands together. “I think you and I should go exploring.
The mountains are truly striking!”
Sierra nodded, matching Mai’s level of excitement. It was the
most adrenaline she had felt in a long time, and she welcomed it
with open arms.
Mai and Sierra headed into the southern mountains on sturdy
snow bikes. Mai offered Sierra a thick fur coat and hat, which she
took with gratitude. Almost her entire face was covered as they
blasted through the bright air. She closed her eyes as the chill
sprinkled across her skin like caressing fingers.
They rode for hours, observing the sublime mountains with virgin
snow painting their pointed edges. Sierra stopped now and then to
photograph them, though she knew the final product would do the
reality no justice.
After a few hours, Mai received a call through her watch. She
looked at it, then gazed up at Sierra.
“What’s wrong?” Sierra asked, settling back onto her bike.
“Nothing, I’ve just got to head back,” Mai replied. “Festivity
things, you know?”
Mai gave her a wink, which made Sierra smile.
“I can come with you if you want,” Sierra said but didn’t mean it.
She wanted to continue exploring the bewitching landscape.
Mai shook her head.
“You can stay! You’re barely here. Take some time to explore,”
Mai said, saddling up to head back in the direction they came from.
But before she left, she pointed at Sierra’s bike.
“There’s a GPS tracker on there,” Mai said. “If you press ‘home,’ it
will guide you back. Stay safe, my friend!”
Mai ventured off, and Sierra was left alone in the wilderness.
She closed her eyes and reveled in the silence which seemed to
engulf her.
Sierra followed her instincts and cruised around the
mountainside. She had been moving about for what seemed like a
few minutes when a dash of color caught her eye.
 Sierra moved in the direction of the fire orange, utterly
captivated. Eventually, she came across a stunning sight ... a full-
sized tiger was roaming through the snow.
Sierra’s jaw dropped open as she assessed its beauty. The soft
fur shimmered beneath the clear blue sky like a thrust of paint had
been thrown across the blank canvas of the scenery.
But it was moving too fast for Sierra to capture it with her
camera. No matter how close she got, it disappeared. She had only
spotted its full body for a brief few seconds, but it was enough to
instill her with wonder.
Sierra returned to the palace and was greeted by Mai in the
courtyard. She had nearly opened her mouth to greet her when
Sierra regaled her with the story of the tiger.
“It was so decadent! I’ve never seen one like that in the wild
before,” Sierra remarked.
Then they were inside and being waited on by one of the castle
attendants. They announced that their rooms were ready, and Mai
made her way off to her quarters. Mai didn’t seem that surprised to
hear about the tiger, and Sierra figured that they probably saw them
too often to be filled with awe.
“There’s a Jacuzzi tub in each room,” Mai said with a wink. “Make
sure you make use of it!”
Sierra laughed and watched Mai start up the stairs. It took her a
few seconds to realize that the attendant had given her directions,
but she couldn’t completely recall them. Third floor on the left? Or
was it right?
Sierra decided to figure it out on her own and not to bother the
attendant. She scaled the stone steps and marveled at the design,
something that she rarely felt was deserved back on her home
planet.
When Sierra got to the third floor, she decided to try the door on
the left. As she turned the knob, she instantly realized that this
indeed was not her room.
But what indicated that was beyond a pleasant sight. A
ridiculously fit man was standing naked at the foot of the bed, towel
drying his windswept blonde hair. He did not cover himself when he
saw her standing there, absolutely dumbfounded.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry …” Sierra went to say.
But her eyes moved over his body. His jawline was sharp, his
shoulders were bulbous and immaculate … his abs, riveting and cut.
She eventually found his center and could not contain her
enticement at the sheer size of him.
“You’re fucking huge,” Sierra said.
It took her a few seconds to realize she had said those words out
loud. The man smiled, which somehow made him even more
handsome.
“Thank you,” he remarked.
Sierra’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. He wrapped a
towel around his waist and stepped toward her.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
Sierra’s thoughts collided and shattered within her mind. All she
could see was the man’s flawless body and the impeccable size of
his member. She tried to answer him as coherently as she thought
was possible.
“I’m, umm, from Earth,” she said, voice quivering. “I’m a friend
of Bella’s.”
The man nodded, then placed his hand on the door. He wasn’t
bothered at all by the fact she had just walked in on him, utterly
naked. There was a confidence that made Sierra’s insides soaking
wet.
“I’m sorry for the mix-up …” Sierra said.
She tried to turn away, but his gaze held her.
“It’s entirely all right,” he said with a smile.
All Sierra could do was repeatedly apologize, then flee to the
room across the hall. That was where her room was. She leaned
against the door and covered her eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered.
 3
TA A R I Q

T aariq looked at himself in the mirror in his quarters. He had

been invited to a private dinner with Alyx and Bella, so he
made sure to dress in his best. He wore a tailored black suit
with a cobalt-blue tie.
But Taariq could barely focus. All he could think about was the
woman who had burst into his room earlier. He wasn’t sure if it was
just lust, but there was something inside of him that had been
stirred. She had fled away quickly out of embarrassment, but he
desperately wanted to see her again and make proper introductions.
He was instantly attracted to her, but who wouldn’t be? She wore
leggings and a loose T-shirt, flashing him a perfectly curved bottom
and thighs. Taariq had a thing for thighs. He wasn’t entirely sure
why.
But as he stood naked before her, all he could think about was
how hypnotizing she was. Her disposition was alluring despite her
overwhelming bashfulness.
Taariq had to find her again, no matter what it took.
But for now, he had to go to dinner. It was his honor to be with
his friends during this celebratory time, even if he and his people
were living through difficult times.
Mai met him at his door, wearing a suit of her own. But hers was
a light blue, which fit her personality more. She gave him a grin as
he stepped out into the dark hallway.
“You’re looking dapper, my brother,” Mai said.
 Taariq gave his sister the once over.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, sister,” Taariq remarked.
Together they descended the steps, making their way to the
dining room. Taariq inquired about her day since he had gone
roaming in the mountains.
“I met one of Bella’s good friends from college,” Mai said, smiling.
“She’s a human from Earth. She seems pretty cool so far.”
Taariq nodded, trying not to show how his interest had been
stoked. Could that be the woman who accidentally came into his
room? Taariq didn’t want to show his excitement too much, so he
merely nodded. However, he secretly hoped that she would be
roaming the castle somewhere and that he would run into her.
Mai and Taariq were seated next to each other at the long iron
table in the dining room. Their place settings were made of
charming silver reflecting the light of the chandelier. Taariq was
disappointed when only the four of them sat down, but he abruptly
noticed an empty seat across from him that was dressed for serving.
A woman walked into the room as the attendants began to serve
them a dinner of steak, potatoes, sweet potatoes, roasted spinach,
and garlic asparagus. Taariq saw her first in his peripheral vision, but
nothing could prepare him for the entire majesty of the sight before
him.
If he could have described the moment, as a man of few words,
he would have relayed had she had moved in slow motion, almost
freezing, as if a painting had come to life.
She walked in, apologizing for her lateness. When Taariq looked
up, he felt his heart arrest in his chest.
The woman was dressed in the special material that was
produced on the planet, one that independently shifted to the most
flattering positions of the body. Taariq thought that she didn’t need
any help with that. Her luscious curves were natural and all her own.
The dress was blood red which pulsed in the dim light of the
dining hall. Thin straps climbed her shoulders while a deep V
plunged into her chest, presenting her plush breasts for the entire
world to worship. Her lips were adorned with matching lipstick,
making her pout reflect with distinct wetness in the light.
 Taariq had been lifting his fork with asparagus on the end, but he
now held it in the air as he watched Sierra take her seat. Mai was
next to him and must have noticed his gaping mouth.
She elbowed him in his ribs, and he shook himself back to reality.
“Good evening, Sierra,” Alyx said to the beauty.
She nodded at him, then turned her eyes to circle the table.
“Good evening, everyone,” she said.
When her hazel swirls came upon him, she quickly retreated her
gaze back to her plate. Taariq detected a rise of embarrassment in
her cheeks. He wondered if that was from when she accidentally
came into his room. He also questioned if she had told anyone about
it.
But Taariq had no reason to feel self-conscious. He loved his
body, as did all of the women he had been with. He did everything
he could to please these women, and he hoped, then and there, that
Sierra would be the woman he would get to please for the rest of his
existence.
Taariq could feel his body getting warm. It began at his toes,
then moved through his blood like a hot river. All at once, he heard
the whisper of his tiger deep inside the cavern of his mind.
Mine, it murmured.
Then it all came crashing down upon him. Sierra was his fated
mate. She had to be. Gerri had done her job as fast as lightning
struck an open field.
At the same time, a sense of relief washed over him. He would
be able to save their species just in the nick of time. His body
quivered with the need to mate, the need to be hers, and for her to
be his.
Taariq reminded himself she was human, and a human wasn’t
going to fall head over heels for some fated mate nonsense. He had
to at least get through dinner, then he could court her.
He had to present himself as a gentleman to her by honoring
Alyx and Bella’s wishes for a private and quaint dinner.
The five talked about the meal, the weather, and the ongoings of
the planet. Sierra mainly responded to claims, politely laughing when
necessary.
 Taariq tried to steal a few glances from her. But every time they
connected, she would either look down at her food or around at the
other attendants. He needed to make an effort, which was a foreign
concept to him altogether.
“How are you finding your stay here, Sierra?” Taariq said directly
to the woman of his dreams.
Everyone turned to face Sierra as she sliced up her steak. Sierra
blushed, small rosy spots growing on her cheeks.
“It’s been wonderful,” she responded quietly. “But I wouldn’t
expect anything less from Bella.”
“We should stop making her so comfortable,” Alyx remarked after
a gulp of wine. “We know her too well. Let’s give her a challenge!”
Everyone laughed, and Bella tapped her husband’s hand lightly.
“Give my darling a break,” Bella said. “She’s had a busy few
months.”
“What do you do on Earth?” Mai inquired.
Sierra once again recoiled by being the center of the
conversation, speaking slowly and with precise articulation.
“I’m an OB/GYN—which means I work with people with female
organs,” Sierra said.
Taariq nodded, still looking at her directly.
“Do you always look this stunning, even at work?” Taariq said
with the utmost confidence.
Sierra’s face grew even redder. She stammered as she spoke,
which made Bella place a hand on hers.
“Sierra is always beautiful,” Bella said with a wink. “She’s
physically incapable of being unattractive.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sierra said to her friend.
They laughed together, the sound absolutely melodic to Taariq’s
ears.
Bella turned the subject to him, giving Sierra time to breathe and
eat.
“How are things going down south?” Bella asked with a piece of
sweet potato on the end of her fork. “Is it chilly down there?”
Taariq grinned widely.
“Definitely, but it seems chillier up here,” he said with a laugh.
 “Is that so?” Alyx replied.
“The sun makes up for any chill,” Mai said.
She reached over and patted her brother on the belly.
“No cold can affect this furnace anyway,” Mai quipped.
Everyone erupted into laughter, including Sierra. Taariq tried to
give her a look that would ease her hesitation, but she continued to
look away.
No courtship had ever been so difficult for him. He was raised to
believe that there was an assumption that everyone simply falls in
line when a fated mate is detected. No matter who it is, it is
determined by the almighty universe and must be innately trusted.
But that didn’t work with humans.
Taariq was starting to worry about his ability to flirt with Sierra
and if it would be enough to land her in his arms.
The five finished their main meal and awaited the serving of
dessert. The servers offered coffee and tea, and Taariq decided to
take a coffee. He usually wasn’t the biggest fan of caffeine, but he
was going to take anything he could get at the moment to
encourage his efforts.
He leaned forward on the table after the server handed him his
mug. Sierra had chosen tea and was lifting the mug to her lips.
They looked utterly succulent to Taariq.
“How were the college days with Bella?” Taariq asked.
Sierra appeared to be caught off guard and lowered the mug
back to the table. The steam from the beverage swirled in a tiny
tornado.
“They were fun,” she replied. “But I didn’t see any royalty in her
future if that’s what you meant.”
Taariq smiled. She smiled back, and her eyes did not waver. He
could lose himself in those glorious orbs.
“I do not think anyone saw that for her,” Taariq said, motioning at
Bella with his eyebrows.
Bella sat, leaning on her arm. She gave him a little smile, almost
as if it were for approval.
“Bella was one of the best nurses I’d ever seen,” Sierra said. “I
was very sad to see her go.”
 Sierra and Bella glanced at each other. Bella blew her a thankful
kiss then she grabbed ahold of Alyx’s hand.
“Sometimes love has a different plan for us,” Bella said, kissing
her husband’s palm.
Both Taariq and Sierra looked at each other, holding it there for
the longest they had for the entire dinner. When she finally looked
away, Taariq detected a tiny smile, and it reassured him.
Dessert was served, either chocolate fudge or vanilla cake. Most
of the attendants opted for vanilla, while Sierra chose the fudge.
Taariq respected her desertion from the ranks.
“This fudge is unlike anything on Earth,” Sierra said.
“Which is why I can’t have any,” Mai commented.
Sierra frowned, then gave his sister a smile. Mai patted her belly
this time.
“My mouth likes it, but the rest of me says no,” Mai said.
Sierra laughed a high-pitch laugh that was contagious. The rest
of the table joined in, and Taariq found himself feeling eased by the
sheer sound of her voice.
Damn, was this what it was like to find your fated mate?
Everyone ate their desserts as politely as they could, despite
their addictive nature. Taariq could barely taste his, though, due to
the anxiety shooting through his body. It was a feeling he never had
before. It narrowed his focus in ways he did not enjoy.
When Sierra finished her meal, she stood and thanked Alyx and
Bella for the invite.
“I’m afraid I’m exhausted from my long explorations,” Sierra said.
“I don’t blame you,” Mai said. “You were out there for hours.”
Sierra giggled. It was freer than the other ways she had laughed
that night.
“I’m going to retire for the night. Please thank your chefs for a
truly delectable meal,” Sierra said.
Bella and Alyx stood and embraced their guest. Bella kissed her
on the cheek, no doubt absorbing her fragrance which made Taariq
feel jealous. She then moved her eyes around the table and nodded
at Mai then Taariq.
“Have a good evening,” she said quietly.
 She stepped away from the table then hurried over the stone
floor to the door. When it closed, Mai lightly slapped him on the
shoulder.
“Um, what dignified that?” he inquired.
“Everything did!” Mai exclaimed. “You were barely trying, dear
brother.”
Taariq frowned as he played with the remaining crumbs on his
plate.
“I complimented her and asked her about her work?” Taariq said
as if it was a question.
“And you think that will woo her to be your fated mate?” Mai
asked with an animated grin.
Taariq looked over at his King and Queen. They both appeared to
agree with his sister. What he had done wasn’t enough for a human
woman. He felt ashamed of his efforts.
“She isn’t going to be like the tigresses,” Bella said.
She was holding her cup of tea in her hands and looking at him
sternly. Taariq felt like he was being scolded by his mother.
“If you’re serious about getting rid of this curse,” Bella continued.
“Then you’re going to have to try harder. She isn’t going to fall all
over you.”
Taariq sighed. Was he going to get another chance to be with
her? Was this a challenge he truly wasn’t up for?
Bella leaned forward in her chair and motioned toward the door.
Taariq stared back at her blankly.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Bella inquired. “Go escort her to
her room!”
Mai and Alyx joined in on the chorus of encouragement as Taariq
jumped from his chair. He adjusted his suit, wiped his mouth, and
breathed in deeply.
“What am I supposed to say?” he asked.
Mai grunted next to him.
“Get to know her. That’s all you have to do for now,” she said,
pulling at his sleeve. “Treat her the way you would want someone to
treat you and get to know her.”
 Taariq looked up at the ceiling, initially perplexed, but gave his
sister a nod of approval. He left the dining room and tried to chase
Sierra down without further putting her off.
 4
SIERRA

F lustered and feeling humiliated, Sierra rushed out of the room

and up the stairs. Looking around, she knew she was already
lost. She just wanted to get back to her room. She felt strange
talking to the same man she had seen naked only hours ago. It was
a sticky situation that had never befallen her before.
Usually, she wasn’t one to cave to embarrassment. But the man
was so damn attractive, Sierra couldn’t help but blush in his
presence. She thought about how this was a welcome change from
her day-in-day-out work hours.
“May I be of service?” a familiar voice asked.
Sierra clutched her chest as she turned to see Taariq, the same
man who her mind had been fantasizing about.
“Oh, Christ,” she said.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
Taariq smiled, then stepped toward her.
“Can I show you to your room? This can be a complicated place
for a visitor,” he said softly.
Sierra nodded. She truly wouldn't have been able to make it back
on her own. Plus, this devilishly handsome man was there to lead
her, which made her feel warm all over.
He walked next to her with his hands in his pocket. He was
extraordinarily tall by human standards, but she knew he wasn’t
particularly tall in his world. She stood at his elbow as he towered
above her. She could only think of naughty thoughts when it came to
their size difference.
“So, you said Bella wasn’t always this queen-like?” Taariq said,
breaking the silence.
Sierra smiled, then crossed her arms over her chest. She realized
all at once that her skin was prickling at the sound of his voice and
that most of her body was bare for him to see. It made her feel
sexy, though he kept his eyes on the ground.
“Not particularly,” Sierra remarked. “She’s had her party days like
all of us, I suppose.”
Taariq’s smile beamed in the darkness. Sierra’s heart was beating
faster in her chest.
“Oh, how I wish I could travel back in time to observe that,” he
said, continuing to smile.
“It would be a sight to behold,” Sierra responded.
“Tell me more ... if you’re willing,” Taariq said.
Sierra smiled, then watched the floor as her heels clicked against
it.
“Oh, the usual. Drinking too much, kissing too much. Mistakes
made to learn from. That kind of thing,” Sierra said.
“I take it you won’t kiss and tell,” Taariq quipped.
Sierra felt her lips tingle at the thought. She wondered if this
man was a wizard along with being devastatingly attractive.
“I used to back then,” she said.
Taariq let out a guffaw she was sure he hadn’t intended to
release. Sierra giggled in response as they moved through the
castle.
They continued down the hallway, walking slower now. Sierra
didn’t exactly want the conversation to end, nor did she want to
immediately invite him into her room. It excited her to think of their
union, but she wanted to pull in the reins on her desire just a little
bit.
It had dropped her into some major trouble when she was
younger. She wasn’t entirely joking about that. If she was going to
have sex, it had to be meaningful, even if it was just for one night.
Those were the rules she had laid out for herself.
 “You must have missed her after all this time away,” Taariq said.
“Have you been here before?”
Sierra shook her head. She gazed around the hallways, absorbing
the magnificent architecture she had long admired for her home
aesthetic.
“This is my first time. Or I’d be a professional at finding my way
around this maze,” Sierra said.
Taariq chuckled but had a little less reservation this time. It made
the butterflies in her stomach flutter faster.
“It makes me sad,” Sierra confessed. “Being so far away from
her, but I know it was her decision. I still can’t see her as a queen.”
“Why is that?” Taariq asked.
Sierra pondered the thought before speaking. She found it odd to
be so honest with a man she had just met. There was a comfort
there, making her speech open and fluid.
“I know her as a human, as my friend. And she married an alien
on another planet,” Sierra said, trying to remain respectful. “Maybe it
will always feel strange in my mind.”
“Try not to think of it as such an extraordinary concept,” Taariq
said.
Sierra frowned, wanting to dig deeper into his statement, but
was distracted by the change in flooring as they arrived at the epic
royal library.
Sierra was speechless as she followed the rose colored carpeting
into the vastly high, gothic ceilings of the room. Books of all shapes,
sizes, and shades adorned the walls from the floor to over twenty-
five feet above her. She rocked her head back to look up at the
rainbow glow of the stained-glass ceiling that filtered light from the
moon into the chamber.
Sierra stood, speechless. She touched her neck as her eyes
trailed over the abundance of knowledge, a thirst she could never
quench throughout a single human lifetime. She suddenly felt very
tingly all over and altogether cerebral in her entire existence.
“This is …” Sierra began to speak.
She came back to reality, finding that Taariq was standing beside
her, but at a respectful distance. She had been overcome with joy,
and if days had passed her by, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
Sierra had always loved books. They offered a silent solace to her
during the days when she was lonely, especially as a new student at
school. It allowed her imagination to grow, even when there was no
one around to make her happy.
She had to work to make herself happy and had earned the
contentment all on her own. Being in that library reminded her of
that plight, and it made her feel a combination of grief and
gratitude.
Taariq spoke to save her from her stunned silence.
“It’s beautiful, I know,” he said softly. “There are a lot of books
here about Nova Aurora if you are at all interested.”
Sierra’s heart began to patter in her chest.
“I would love to read them!” she exclaimed.
Taariq smiled and went over to a shelf. He began rifling through a
few, taking them down and stacking them on a nearby table.
She walked over and stood beside him, beginning to scan the
titles herself. She also wanted to take in his presence at a closer
range. She breathed in deeply, absorbing his woodsy musk.
His presence, in general, was profound, and she found that
fascinating. A man like him could easily have an ego, but he didn’t.
Even though she barely knew him, she had a sense for these kinds
of things. She would have smelled him from a mile away if he was
only looking to bed her.
But his quiet musing was different, which attracted her to him
even more.
“I love your interest in this planet,” he confessed.
His voice was light and husky, matching the energy of the room.
Sierra thought for a moment that she was going faint with
excitement.
“Why’s that?” she inquired, moving some books off of the shelf.
“Well, no offense to your kind, but not many humans are
interested in anything but themselves,” Taariq said gently.
Sierra chuckled and watched the handsome smile grow on his
palatable lips.
“I’m inclined to agree with you on that one,” Sierra said.
 Taariq grabbed a book that was a similar shade of cobalt as his
tie. He blew the dust off of it in the opposite direction, then held it
out to her.
“This one’s about the Southern Mountain Streak, which is where
I’m from,” he said.
Sierra gripped the spine of the book, and their fingers met.
The touch crackled in his eyes.
Sierra bit her lip self-consciously, then pulled away as she
returned to the shelf.
“Maybe I should get a few about that area,” she said bashfully.
They each carried a handful of books to an olive-green couch.
They sat, and Sierra gazed up at the glass. It had started snowing,
and it filled her heart with a sense of awe.
It sprinkled over the moonlight in soft streaks, like loving hands
moving over a naked body.
“The snow is something else here,” she remarked while staring
upward. “It’s almost surreal.”
Sierra realized that her neck, as well as her cleavage, were
exposed as she looked up. She lingered there for a moment, hoping
Taariq would steal a glance. When she couldn’t tell where his eyes
were wandering, her eyes returned to face him.
“It usually doesn’t snow like this here,” Taariq said, his face
upturned to the sky. “But it's like this every day where I’m from. You
will probably read about it in one of the books.”
He tilted his head down to face her, and she gave him a long
look. Being that vulnerable meant something to Sierra, and it felt
natural, which made it all the more mysterious to her.
Sierra then lifted a book she had placed beside her. She began
reading the first story, and it rang a bell in her human mind. A story
of children being consumed by a strange woman living in some
remote cabin.
“So, you must have fairy tales where you are from?” Sierra
asked.
Taariq was sitting across from her with his legs crossed. He
frowned at her.
 “What are fairy tales?” he asked, his voice continually soft and
enticing.
Sierra smiled, then turned the book to face him. He looked at it
with the same perplexed expression.
“They’re children’s stories, usually made up,” she said. “They’re
written to teach kids simple lessons, like to not lie and to trust your
friends.”
Taariq took the book from her hands, then scanned it. He closed
it, then reached across her for a red book piled there. Sierra caught
a whiff of his hair as he leaned in close, nearly grazing her skin with
his sleeve.
“I know this story to be true,” he said. “Here, it's in the history
book I handed you.”
She took it from his hands, continuing to give him a puzzled
glare. She scanned it, then peered up from over the pages.
“Are you telling me that Hansel and Gretel is a true story?” she
said with a laugh.
Taariq beamed at her. His eyes looked even tastier in the
moonlight, shining like the most delicious chocolate.
“I promise you, it's true,” he said. “I remember being told the
same story as a child ... but as history, not these fairy tales.”
“Damn,” Sierra uttered. “Well, there’s a lot more that I’m going to
have to learn about then.”
Taariq grinned, sending quivers through Sierra’s body.
“Take it from me,” he said. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary to
hear a story of someone eating children on this planet, I assure
you.”
Sierra widened her eyes, then closed the book to place it on her
thighs.
“Unfortunately, that doesn't assure me at all,” Sierra remarked
playfully.
Taariq exposed his teeth in a sly smile. It was coy and made him
look extra sexy.
“Take that one to your room,” he said, motioning toward the
book on her lap.
“I think I’m going to have to,” she said.
 They looked at each other for a long moment. Sierra could feel
goosebumps rising on her arms from the intense attraction she felt
for this man. She told herself to wait at least a few days before
sleeping with him. After all, he was an alien.
Sierra stood and made her way back to the shelf. She took a
tome from it and flipped through the pages, but she wasn’t
absorbing any of the words. She could feel Taariq approaching her
slowly, like a tiger anticipating a pounce.
She felt her chest heaving up and down as his breath prickled the
back of her neck. A snake of desire moved through her, and she
abruptly wished she wasn’t wearing a dress at all.
“Sierra?” Taariq whispered.
Sierra shuddered as she turned to face him. He was close to her,
as close as he had ever been, and she could almost wallow in the
heat of his desire for her. It was pulsing in the room along with in
her loins.
“Yes?” she said breathlessly.
"You are so gorgeous,” Taariq said.
He lifted his large hand and stroked her cheek. She closed her
eyes and leaned into it, smiling.
“Is that a question?” she said playfully.
“No,” he murmured.
He moved in even closer. Her breasts were aching for his touch,
and she felt animalistic in her yearning for him. It had been some
time since her last sexual encounter, but no one had ever made her
feel this wanted.
“Can I …” Taariq choked on the last of his words.
Sierra opened her eyes and looked up at him. His eyes looked
wild with passion. Passion for a woman he had just met.
Sierra touched his other hand then placed it on her waist. She
felt a shudder move through her like she had been shocked by
electricity.
He swallowed before speaking again.
“Can I … kiss you?” he asked solemnly.
Before she could respond, her body answered for her. She stood
on her tiptoes and offered him her mouth, which he accepted with
great fervor.
It started off as a soft kiss, two lovers meeting for the first time.
But it soon evolved into a ravenous engulfment of impulses, tongues
swirling, breaths moaning, and bodies quivering against one
another.
Sierra wondered who the hell this guy was as he pushed her
against the library shelving. It rocked slightly, but she didn’t care.
She was following the hunger of her body, only seeking out pleasure
in that isolated moment.
 5
TA A R I Q

T aariq felt like he had fallen into a dream. Touching lips with
Sierra was unlike any sensation he had felt, and he had kissed
a good handful of women in his time. His body instantly grew a
mind of its own, moving and swaying with Sierra as her passion
ignited.
He moved his hands over her body, beginning at her cheeks,
then to her neck, her shoulders, and her waist. He wanted to
memorize every inch of her, savoring the touch to anticipate the next
heated contact with her being.
Taariq grasped a hand around her thigh, and she moved with him
as she wrapped her luscious leg around his waist. He lifted her and
pushed her against the bookshelf, which shook from the force of
their desire.
Sierra ran her hands through his hair, screwing up the sleek,
gelled look. She dug her nails into the back of his neck and moaned
against him, her body communicating the language of lust to the
most thankful of audiences.
Taariq could not control himself with Sierra. He wanted to reach
down to her cleavage and rip the dress in half and just take her
against the bookshelf right then and there. But the dress was so
beautiful, so he chose to unwrap her slowly, like a delicious gift.
Their wild collision fogged up the glass on the ceiling, the
shaking shelves caused several books to plummet to the floor. Taariq
moved his tongue with hers, intermittently sucking on her lips
individually and then diving deeper into her cavern.
“… Taariq …” Sierra moaned between breaths.
He barely heard her as he rubbed her thigh up and down,
sneaking a little touch at the thong she had been wearing beneath
the dress.
“Taariq,” she said louder this time.
Somehow, their lips parted, and Taariq was holding her with one
hand against the bookshelf.
“Yes?” he said breathlessly.
“We shouldn’t do this …” she said.
The tickle of their breaths touched each other’s wet lips as they
leaned against one another’s forehead.
“All the more reason …” Taariq said.
“No, I’m serious,” Sierra said, voice firmer now.
Taariq lifted his head off of hers. He observed her flushed,
beautiful face, and he did everything he could to resist going back in
for more of her taste.
“What do you mean?” Taariq asked.
“You’re an alien, and I’m … I’m human …” Sierra said hesitantly.
Taariq continued to hold her in the air against the bookshelf. Her
leg rested around his waist, their pelvises perfectly aligned. Their
bodies heated as if a desire-fueled sun grew between them.
He let his hand linger on her thigh, dangerously close to the
perfect, plump, peach shape of her ass.
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a sly grin. “Well, that
seemed to work out fine between Bella and Alyx,” he said.
Taariq slowly reached his mouth down to her inviting neck,
placing light, enticing kisses along the edges of it.
“But … I hardly know you …” Sierra whispered.
She continued to pull his head in close, her body responding to
his touch.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know …” Taariq said against
her skin in a hushed tone.
The nape of her neck broke out into goosebumps as he
continued to plant small kisses against it. He continued, eventually
arriving at the glorious plunge between her breasts.
“We should focus on our friends. We’re here for them …” Sierra
whispered.
Taariq licked his lips and breathed over her breastbone. She
moaned against him, quivering slightly.
Despite her obvious arousal, she lifted his head back up to her
face and spoke to him with a stern look.
“We really shouldn’t do this,” she reiterated.
Taariq placed her on the floor, released her legs, then took a
solemn step back. He adjusted his suit, then bashfully brushed his
hair back into place.
“I’m sorry, Sierra,” he said in a low tone.
Sierra adjusted her dress and ran her hands through her hair as
well. Her skin was a sweet rose red, and she continued to breathe
hard.
“It’s okay, Taariq,” she said. “I just think we shouldn't be doing
this right now.”
Taariq didn’t understand why his fated mate was being so
assertive about this, but he had to remind himself that, yes, she was
a human. She held no preconceived notions about anything to do
with finding a mate.
Also, he supposed, casual sex might not be her thing. Aliens such
as himself couldn't really understand that, and they rarely rejected
an opportunity at a carnal moment.
She was just so gorgeous. Taariq wanted to make her feel like
the clouds of heaven were opening up within her body. But that
would have to wait. For now, he would continue courting her in a
way that would make her trust him.
She was touching her neck and looking at him. She had the same
look on her face as when she saw him naked earlier that day. It was
embarrassing, and she did not cope with that well.
“I should get to bed …” she said, trailing off.
As she went to walk away, Taariq reached out to her.
“Wait,” he said.
Sierra stopped in her tracks, looking back at him thoughtfully.
 “I made a promise that I’d take you back to your room,” he said,
then motioned toward the book. “Plus, you’ve got all this reading to
do.”
Sierra smiled at him, then went back to the couch where the pile
of the books lay. She picked up a few, and Taariq came to her side
to pick up the rest. He balanced them in his arms, and she looked up
at him, eyes still glowing from their union.
“I can take those for you,” Taariq said.
She smiled.
“I can carry a few, but thank you,” she responded.
He held five books beneath his arms, his massive biceps capable
of holding more weight than the average person. She held against
her chest the book of “fairy tales” along with the history book.
There was silence as they sauntered. Her room wasn’t too far,
but Taariq was going to do everything he could to be within her
company, even if it meant taking a longer route.
“I suppose this isn’t a common situation for you,” Taariq asked.
Sierra looked up at him, the glow of the torches painting her
softly in the light.
“The walking-through-a-castle situation?” she responded.
Taariq laughed, almost dropping the books in response.
“Well, you could say that as well,” he said with a smile. “But I
was referring to the alien situation.”
Taariq did not want to strike a nerve, but he also did not want to
walk to her room in silence. He was already worried he had made
things extra awkward for her by being so passionate in the royal
library. There was no point in trying nothing at all.
After all, she was his fated mate, and that meant taking risks he
wasn’t always used to taking.
“I would say yes, it's new,” she responded.
Her voice had returned to a comfortable sweetness, both playful
and flirty, which comforted him slightly.
He smiled at her, and they continued walking, her heels tapping
against the stone floor. He stepped lightly, and she followed closely,
her fragrance filling his nostrils like a candy-coated wind.
 When they got to her room, they turned to face one another.
Sierra looked up at him, holding her hands out to take the rest of
the books.
He reluctantly handed them to her, and the stack almost blocked
out her face.
“Can you handle all of those?” he asked.
Sierra giggled.
“I think I can deal with it,” she said.
Sierra stepped into her room, and Taariq watched as she carefully
placed them on the bed. The bed was decorated in blood-red velvet,
and he couldn’t help but imagine how he would pleasure her in that
bed.
Maybe she would drift to sleep thinking about it.
She came back to the doorframe and leaned against it. Taariq
rubbed his arm nervously. It was a feeling he hadn’t ever felt before.
“Do you mind if I kiss you goodnight?” Taariq asked, his hushed
voice gentle in the dark.
Sierra crossed her arms, but she showed him a devious grin.
“You have to promise me something first,” she said.
Taariq raised an eyebrow.
“Promise what?” he inquired.
She tapped her fingers against her arms, then eyed him up and
down. She eventually settled on his gaze, which made his heart melt
in his chest.
“Promise me that, if we kiss, that’s all it will be, just a kiss
goodnight,” she said.
Taariq tried to keep himself from smiling too broadly. Did she
believe that they could just kiss and act like that’s all it meant?
Especially after how close they came to making love minutes before.
Taariq still grinned, then raised a hand into the air.
“I promise that this kiss will only be a kiss, nothing more,” he
said slyly.
Sierra uncrossed her arms and stepped toward him. She was
shorter, so he had to bend over significantly. He only brought his
face close to hers, then lingered there for a second, waiting for her
to take the last move.
 He was pleased to find that she did, moving her mouth roughly
into his. So he did everything he could to make it count. He opened
his mouth, welcoming her tongue and addictive taste. She
responded in kind, breathing him in and moving her tongue around
his furiously.
When they eventually parted, they were breathless again. It was
the most beautiful sensation of exhaustion.
Their faces remained close, and Sierra gave him a cute smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Anytime,” he whispered back.
She stepped away from him with a smile continuing to shine on
her face, then began to close the door.
“Goodnight, Taariq,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Sierra,” he replied.
She closed the door softly, and all that remained was Taariq
alone in the dark.
He let his head hang down low. He was disappointed that they
did not get to make love but also felt embarrassed at the thought
that he had screwed something up. Hopefully, she did not mistake
his passion for anything too commonly human.
He had to be better than ...
As he turned to return to his chambers, Taariq caught something
out of the corner of his eye. The silhouette of a head peeked around
the corner but disappeared as soon as he spotted it.
Taariq frowned.
He stepped quickly toward the shape but only came upon more
shadows. He shrugged, figuring that perhaps it was a servant or
attendants of the castle, looking for some gossip to share.
He tried to scour the pathway for any signifying scents, but he
was too filled with Sierra's rose-scented fragrance. She was all he
could think of at the moment, so he didn’t bother too much with
what was probably just some nosy stranger.
Taariq sauntered through the castle, taking the long way back to
his room. His manhood was hard beneath his dress pants, so he
figured he could take care of that when he got back to his room. But
he wanted to brood, so he did, moving around the castle in the dark.
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George until the affair had completely blown over; but Great
Heavens, what a bore!
He was not yet free! The bonds which held him were invisible,
intangible, yet he felt their pressure and writhed beneath it. God!
Would he ever succeed in breaking them? Must he be forever a
prisoner in these chains of his own forging?
 Chapter XXII.
At the Club
On the following day, to George’s surprise and gratification Storm
appeared at his office at noon and dragged him unceremoniously off
for lunch. In the course of their long friendship he had been almost
invariably the one to seek out his more brilliant companion, and he
was touched at this evidence of a need of him.
“I must say you look pretty bad, Norman,” he began with tactless
solicitude. “And you were as nervous as a woman last night; I could
see it. You are not taking care of yourself——”
“I don’t sleep well,” Storm interrupted shortly. “I wanted to talk
things over with you. I’ve been thinking about that trip I proposed
taking——”
“Yes?” George urged eagerly as he paused.
“Well, I don’t know but what you are right if I can only pull myself
together somehow.” Storm weighed each word with care. “You
cannot appreciate what I have been through in the last month or you
would realize how desperately I want to get away from all reminders
of my—my grief; but if I can fight it without cutting myself adrift and
losing my connection with the trust company, it would be foolish to
sacrifice such a sinecure, especially when I have nothing else
absolutely definite in view.”
He could invent that ‘something else’ easily enough, he reflected
as he watched George’s glowing face, when the moment came for
departure. Meanwhile, he had decided to play safe; it would not be
long! As the words formed in his mind he shuddered involuntarily;
that had been Jack Horton’s expression! He had boasted of playing
safe in the very hour of his death!
“Of course it would! I knew you would come to your senses, old
man!” George cried warmly. “I do realize what you must have
suffered, but the only way to forget is to fight it. You—you can count
on me, you know!”
Storm nodded.
“I am sure of that.” He paused and added: “About that little fishing
trip you suggested; do you think you could get away?”
“Surest thing you know! I’m feeling seedy myself, and it will do us
both good. Shall we ask Millard to join us?”
“Heavens, no! He is an infernal nuisance!” Storm exclaimed
hastily. Through the long night hours he had planned his trip for the
express purpose of keeping George and his inconvenient theories
away from the too loquacious disseminator of news from
Headquarters. “I only want you, George. How soon do you think you
can get away?”
In secret distaste he watched the other’s puppy-like wriggle of
affectionate gratification at this mark of favor. What a fool he had
been to fear him! Yet there might still be a chance for George to
suspect, and if he did he would not rest until he had ferreted out the
truth.
“Let’s see; this is Wednesday,” George responded. “I ought to be
able to make it by the first of next week. I’ll talk to Abbott about it this
afternoon and let you know later. Say, why don’t you meet me at the
Club?”
Storm made a quick gesture of rejection.
“I haven’t been there since——”
“I know, and that’s just why it will do you good,” George urged.
“You’ve got to take the plunge some time, you know. There is no
good in isolating yourself and brooding, as you have been doing.
Most of the fellows are away now for the hot weather; you won’t find
half a dozen there before dinner.”
“We-ell,” Storm conceded. The ubiquitous Millard would not be
present, at any rate, nor would anyone else who had the slightest
interest in the murder of an obscure paymaster; and now that the
suggestion had been made he felt a vague desire to see the old club
once more. “I’ll meet you there at half-past five.”
The papers were still devoting much front-page space to the
murder and robbery, but it was concerned principally with the
activities of the detectives employed by Miss Saulsbury and those of
the Mid-Eastern Corporation. The Police Department was reported
as making progress, but its nature was not disclosed; and Storm
smiled to himself as he read. No mention was made of the two men
seen walking on the Drive, but the incident of the motor car was
prominently exploited, and the generally accepted theory seemed to
be that the body had been brought from some undetermined
distance and flung over the wall.
All reference to the bag and its contents when found at the
terminal had been permitted to drop, and he looked in vain for any
suggestion that the numbers of the bills were known.
When he reached the club that afternoon he found that George
had not yet arrived; but a tall, lanky figure arose with outstretched
hand from the window seat.
“Hello, old fellow! Glad to see you back! We’ve been asking
about you.”
“Thanks, Griffiths. I’ve not been away,” Storm replied briefly. “Just
haven’t felt sociable, that’s all.”
“I know. We heard of course. Very sad! We all felt for you.”
The lawyer, who was noted for his eloquence in court, halted now
in a constrained fashion, and Storm replied quietly. “I’m sure of that.
Everyone has been very good, but this is the sort of thing one has to
bear alone. I am thinking of getting away shortly for a trip——”
“There was another matter, too, of which I was sorry to learn,”
Griffiths interrupted him. “You were badly hit in the Mertens-Du
Chainat swindle, weren’t you?”
“I?” Storm’s surprise at the question was unfeigned, and his eyes
shifted beneath the other’s level gaze. “Indeed, no! Where did you
hear that?”
“From a rather direct source,” the lawyer responded slowly. “In
fact, from a private examination of some papers belonging to the
pseudo Du Chainat which were unearthed after his departure. A
client of mine happens to have been among his victims, and I was in
a conference of attorneys who were permitted to make an
examination of the effects which Du Chainat overlooked or had no
time to destroy. Among them was a list of his victims, together with
the amount he had obtained from each; a methodical scoundrel,
wasn’t he? He had you down for sixty thousand, and as all the other
items on the list were verified by the victims themselves I naturally
concluded that his plans had gone through in your case. Sorry if I
have made a stupid mistake.”
“Not stupid!” Storm smiled frigidly. “Natural enough, under the
circumstances. I met the fellow and he put his proposition up to me; I
didn’t bite, but I let him down so easily that probably he considered
me one of his prospects. To tell you the truth he interested me as a
type, but I wasn’t fool enough to fall for his game.”
“I am glad for your own sake.” There still remained that dry note
of mental reservation in the lawyer’s tone. “He victimized some of the
most astute business men in the country. ——Hello, Holworthy!”
Storm turned as if stung. George was coming forward from the
door with a preternaturally grave expression upon his wide,
ingenuous face. How long had he been standing there? Confound
his pussy-footing ways! How much had he heard? Storm was
inwardly seething with rage at Griffith’s interference in his affairs as
well as at George’s inopportune arrival, but he forced himself to
greet the newcomer equably, striving to learn from his manner if the
conversation had reached his ears.
“I was late because Abbott kept me going over some details at
the office,” the latter explained quietly. “He thinks I can get away all
right by Monday. Suppose instead of the Beaverkill we try the north
woods? The bass ought to be running well up there——”
“So that’s the trip you meant, eh?” Griffiths interrupted. “Gad,
wish I could join you! I’d like to get a breath of the big woods in the
silence and peace of it after the eternal court wrangles of this last
term, but there isn’t a chance for me. I envy you two fellows!”
Two more members, a banker and the editor of one of the big
dailies, joined them, refreshments were ordered, and to Storm’s
relief the talk drifted off on general topics; but he studied George
furtively. If he had heard, would he accept Storm’s denial that he had
been victimized by Du Chainat? The lawyer had evidently remained
skeptical, but he was not as conversant with Storm’s affairs and
financial position as was George. If the latter believed that his friend
had been hard hit, would he not naturally wonder where he had
obtained the money for the long overseas trip he contemplated, and
wondering, blunder upon the truth?
 A half hour passed, the little group broke up and Storm and his
companion were on the point of departure when a hearty, good-
humored voice boomed from the doorway and an elderly man with a
bluff military swagger bore down upon them.
“Great Guns, Storm, but it’s good to see you here again! I wrote
you—you got my letter?—when I heard of your loss. Terrible thing,
terrible! Damn fine little lady——”
He paused, clearing his throat and clapping Storm resoundingly
on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Colonel; yes, I received your letter,” the latter
responded. “Meant to reply to it, but George here can tell you that
I’ve been rather unsettled——”
“Heard you had moved to town and taken somebody’s rooms up
on the Drive,” Colonel Walker interrupted. “We’ve needed you here
for a fourth at bridge; had to take on Paine, and he’s rotten——”
“I like that!” the editor retorted indignantly. “Who revoked twice in
one evening——?”
“That was because we were playing for low stakes. I’m never on
my mettle unless the game is away over my head.” The Colonel
laughed and added: “Saw you the other night, Storm, and tried to
hail you but you got away in the crowd. I wanted to drag you off to a
stag house party up in Westchester. Let’s see; that was last
Wednesday night, over by the Grand Central Station——”
“You must have been mistaken!” Storm interrupted hastily. He
could feel George’s eyes upon him, and this fresh turn of affairs left
him aghast.
“No, I’m not,” Colonel Walker insisted bluntly. “It was Wednesday
night, I remember, just around dinner time, for it was raining like
blazes and you were dodging along under your umbrella——”
“Oh, yes!” Storm parried desperately. “I recall it now, but I didn’t
see you, old chap. I was on my way to my tobacconist’s. By the way,
that was a wonderful brand of cigarettes you used to get from Turkey
before the war. I’ve been trying to remember the name——”
The colonel’s laugh boomed out in good humored derision.
“Much good it would do you now! They aren’t made any more; in
fact I doubt if that grade of tobacco is grown over there since the
world turned upside down! I’ve found something new, however; try
one of these.”
He passed around a cigarette case and the hoped-for diversion
was created, but Storm’s heart felt like lead within him and he dared
not meet George’s eyes. He tried to think collectedly, but the very
weight of his own guilt prevented him from viewing the case sanely
from an unbiassed attitude. Here, within the hour, the last links in the
chain of circumstantial evidence had been forged against him in
George’s eyes had the latter but the sense to grasp the full
significance of what he had learned. The reported loss of his capital,
his presence at the terminal at the time of Horton’s supposed arrival,
George’s own theory that Horton had been a victim of someone he
knew and trusted, the proximity of the place where the body was
found to Storm’s rooms, the testimony of the policeman as to the two
pedestrians, the coincidence of the newspapers in Horton’s bag
supplying the missing parts of those in Storm’s possession; why, the
thing was patent on the face of it!
Only George’s ignorance concerning the newspapers, his blind
faith in his friend and the improbability of his grasping so monstrous
a solution stood between Storm and certain exposure. But was it an
improbability? Was George even now putting the facts together and
waiting to strike?
Storm sat back in silence, puffing his cigarette and leaving the
burden of conversation to the others. He heard the Colonel’s deep
bass, Griffiths’ keen, incisive tones and George’s measured,
phlegmatic voice with no change in its unemotional timbre, but they
came to him as from a distance. Did George know? The thought held
him as in a vice and he longed for yet dreaded the moment when
they should be alone together, which he felt must reveal the truth.
At length George rose somewhat heavily and turned to his friend.
“Shall we be getting on, Norman? Unless you would prefer to
dine here, of course——”
“No.” Storm, too, got out of his chair. “We’ve a lot of things to
settle about our trip.”
They took leave of their friends and left the club, and still
George’s manner remained, to the other man’s over-analytical state
of mind, significantly grave and reticent. He could endure the
suspense no longer, and a spirit of bravado entered into him.
“That did me good, rather; to get to the club and see some of the
old fellows again,” Storm declared mendaciously. “What are you
silent about, old man?”
“Nothing; I’ve been thinking,” George responded. “All your fishing
gear is down at Greenlea, isn’t it? Can you write to MacWhirter and
get it here by Monday?”
Storm gave a furtive sidelong glance at him, but George was
plodding along with an inscrutable countenance.
“I can run down overnight and pick out what I need,” Storm
asserted shortly. “We can make out a list to-night. Suppose we stop
at the Blenheim Grill here for a bite and then go on up to my rooms?”
George accepted without comment, and they were soon
ensconced at a table as far as possible from the blatant orchestra, in
a corner half screened by palms. As Storm studied the menu he
glanced up to find his companion’s eyes fixed upon him in troubled,
questioning scrutiny, and he flung the card aside.
“What is it?” he demanded savagely. As well to have it over here
and now! He could endure the suspense no longer. “There’s been
something wrong with you ever since we left the club. For heaven’s
sake get it off your chest!”
“Well,” George responded slowly. “I couldn’t help hearing what
Griffiths said as I came in, and to tell you the truth, old man, I am
rather hurt at your lack of confidence in me.”
Storm unconsciously braced himself. It was coming!
“You mean about the Du Chainat affair?” he blustered. “That
meddlesome old fool knows nothing about my business! I call it
infernal cheek, his attempting to say the man ever victimized me!
There’s not a word of truth in it.”
“I read of the swindle in the newspapers, and I remember that I
was the one to tell you of the Du Chainat exposure; I showed the
article to you myself.” George spoke more to himself than to the
other man, as though correlating his thoughts aloud. “I recall that you
seemed interested about it, even excited, but you never mentioned
the fact that you knew the man, much less that he had tried to take
you in on his schemes. It wasn’t like you, Norman; you’ve told me
everything, ever since we were boys, and I am wondering where I
could have failed you.”
An injured, plaintive note had crept into his patient voice, and in a
sudden access of hope Storm seized upon his opportunity.
“You haven’t failed me, dear old George! It was my accursed
pride, as usual. I wouldn’t admit it to Griffiths for worlds, but I did
pretty nearly fall for that fellow’s bunk! When you showed me that the
whole thing was a swindle I was aghast at my narrow escape, and I
made up my mind I wouldn’t give you the chance to preach at me
again about reckless investments. If I had told you how nearly I
came to letting Du Chainat hoodwink me you would have been as
worried as a maiden aunt about any future venture I might want to
make, and I didn’t care to have you know what an ass I had been!”
His tone was a perfect simulation of shame-faced confidence.
“Millard might have told you that I knew the pseudo Du Chainat. He
introduced me to him himself, and if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Millard,
who holds the purse strings, the old boy would have been one of Du
Chainat’s victims. He was strong for the scheme, but for once I had a
gleam of sense and held out.”
George shook his head.
“I’m sorry if I have seemed to preach at you,” he said. “Your
money is your own, of course, to do with as you please, and you are
a man grown, but you have always been to me the impulsive,
reckless boy I knew at college——”
“Whom you helped out of many a scrape!” Storm put in quickly.
“You don’t think I have ever forgotten, do you, old man? It wasn’t
lack of confidence, but fear of ‘I told you so’ that prevented me from
telling you what I knew personally of Du Chainat. Griffiths was all
wrong in that, however. Du Chainat may have put me down for a
boob, but I never dropped a cent in his scheme.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” George remarked earnestly, but to Storm’s
apprehensive ear there was the same hint of skepticism in his voice
that the lawyer’s had evinced, and he burst out recklessly:
“Look here, you don’t think I am holding out on you now, do you?
You don’t think I was such a fool? If I had put all my capital in Du
Chainat’s hands, and he had taken it to the bottom of the sea with
him, where on earth would I have gotten the money for this long trip I
proposed taking or investment in a new concern when I got back?”
He could have bitten his tongue out the instant the words had left
his lips. What a consummate fool to open the way for suspicion to
enter George’s mind, if it were not there already! But while he sat
inwardly cursing himself for his mad indiscretion, the other’s face
cleared as if by magic.
“Of course, Norman! I have been worrying a little for the last hour,
but I might have known you hadn’t gone into the scheme, for it would
have pretty well cleaned you out, wouldn’t it? Now that you are going
to stay on at the trust company——” he broke off and added: “I’m
sure that you are! Our fishing trip will buck you up wonderfully, and
you’ll come back in fine form!”
“I hope so.” Storm breathed freely. The danger point was past!
But he must cinch it in the other’s mind . . . . “I’ve still got my capital,
you know; what there is left of it from that copper gamble two years
ago.”
“Well, nothing is sure but death and taxes, you must remember.
Even the Mammoth Trust might go under, so don’t regard your fifty
thousand as velvet and take some wild flyer with it, without
consulting Foulkes or me.” George checked himself with a sheepish
grin. “There I go preaching again! I vow I won’t any more—Say! That
waiter has been hovering about for the last twenty minutes. What are
we going to have?”
Dinner ordered, the conversation turned upon their forthcoming
expedition, and as the meal progressed all of Storm’s wonted self-
confidence returned to him in full measure. These vague fears about
old George and his suspicions were nothing but the chimera of
exhausted nerves, and he was a fool to permit them to give him a
moment’s disquietude. Millard and his damned wager had worked
upon him, but Millard was an ass! The very way that he had fallen for
Du Chainat proved—— Storm caught himself up in his chain of
reasoning with a grimace of ironic disgust. He, too, had fallen for Du
Chainat, and harder even than had Millard. Gad, was he getting so
that he believed his own lies?
At any rate, the result of the wager was a foregone conclusion.
He could not fail to carry on successfully to the end now; his plans
had been laid too well! Not one single setback had occurred and no
one, nothing could touch him. He could endure old George’s
unadulterated company for a week or so, and the sojourn in the
woods would steady his nerves and give him time to plan cool-
headedly for the future.
By the time they returned, the Horton investigation would have
slumped to a mere nominal affair, and soon thereafter he might
announce his adherence to his original plan, to which George could
then have no opposition to offer since his own suggestion would
have failed of its object. Everything would work out smoothly,
perfectly; the greatest stunt of the age would go through without a
hitch; and it was all due to his foresight, his genius for detail! There
was nothing he could not accomplish in the future, no one living who
was his master; and the best of it all was that no one suspected his
greatness! Not a living soul with whom he came in contact realized
that he was other than a pleasant enough fellow, a gentleman born
and bred but without much business head or executive ability; a
tame, futile sort of person, who would never set the Thames on fire.
God, it was the biggest joke perpetrated on the community since
time began! It was almost too good to keep!
But as they left the grill and made their way to his rooms, in the
midst of his exultation there came to him another dampening
thought. Had George noticed the coincidence of his having been
near the Grand Central Station at the very hour of Horton’s
supposed arrival, as revealed by Colonel Walker’s unlucky chance
remark? Storm dared not draw his attention to the coincidence itself
if it had escaped him, yet a perverse instinct drove him on to
ascertain if he had noted the significance of the date mentioned.
“Old Walker is putting on flesh again since demobilization took
place,” he began tentatively. “I hear he has been hitting it up quite a
little lately.”
“He is a pretty good fellow,” George replied tolerantly. “Likes to
swagger and make out that he’s a regular devil, but there is no real
harm in him.—Say, we’d better get some new G. lines, and if I were
you I’d look over that four-and-a-half-ounce rod of yours.”
“That’s all right.” Storm returned insistently to his point. “I wonder
who was giving the stag house-party up in Westchester for which the
Colonel was bound when he hailed me? Odd that I should not have
heard him, for he bellows like a bull.”
“Oh, well, in a crowd——” George’s tone was absent and he
broke off to announce with vigor. “I’ll tell you one thing; if you expect
any luck you had better get a Montreal or two. The pet Parmachini
Belle of yours would make any bass in the lake give you a laugh!”
Another dangerous chance eliminated!——Danger? Storm
chuckled with amusement at the thought. To test old George further
was like taking milk from a blind kitten! Only a miracle could harm
him now and the age of miracles was past. He was invincible,
indeed!
“Ashes be damned!”
 Chapter XXIII.
The Scourge of Memory
The next morning as Storm was on the point of starting for his
office Homachi ushered in a visitor. He was a sturdy, well-built man
with sandy hair and a lean, lantern-jawed face, and as he advanced
and stood fumbling with his cap only a slight limp and sag of one hip
betrayed the artificial limb which replaced the one he had left in
France.
“Well, MacWhirter,” Storm began cordially, and then his tone
sharpened. “There isn’t anything wrong at Greenlea?”
“No, sir.” The erstwhile gardener shifted uneasily. “Everything is
right as can be. Since you left me there as caretaker there’s been
nothing for me to do; not even a stray dog to be warned off the
place.”
“Then sit down, man, and tell me what brings you here.” There
was a trace of impatience now in Storm’s voice. Another reminder of
Greenlea and what had happened there!
“Well, sir, it’s just that; I’ve not enough to do.” MacWhirter eased
himself down gingerly upon the edge of a chair. “I’m not earning what
you pay me and I’m well fit——”
He flushed, glancing down at his curiously stiffened leg, and
Storm said hastily:
“Of course you are! You’re in every way as efficient as you were
before the war. I put you in charge because you are a responsible
man and I trusted you. All I want is to have the place guarded and
looked after during my absence.”
“I know, sir. I’ve kept the flowers up, though you told me not to
bother, because it’s a rare fine garden to go to waste and because
the mistress took such pride in it, begging your pardon, sir. I’ve never
forgot her kindness in keeping my place open for me and sending
me word at the hospital that no matter how bad I was hurt I was to
come back.” The man’s honest eyes misted and his voice grew
unsteady, but he controlled it respectfully after a moment’s pause. “If
I felt that the place or you, sir, actually needed me I’d stay on, but
——”
“You want to leave, eh?” Storm interrupted shortly. “Well, you
must please yourself, MacWhirter. You are getting a head gardener’s
wages now.”
“Yes, Mr. Storm, and I’m not earning it, though I’m as able to as
any man alive. If I keep on being just a caretaker, folks’ll think I’m not
fit for anything else. I’m a farseeing man, and I’ve got to look out for
the future.” The shrewd, kindly Scotch eyes narrowed and then
swiftly darkened as he added in a lowered tone, “It isn’t only that, sir;
it’s main lonesome out there now.”
“In Greenlea, with all the neighbors about?”
“Not Greenlea; I mean the place itself. There’s something about it
since—since it has been closed up that fair gives me the creeps, sir!
Something uncanny, like! I—I’d rather not stay on, sir.”
There was a note of superstitious awe in the man’s tones which
awoke an unexpected answering chord in Storm, and his anger rose
swiftly to combat it.
“You’re a fool, MacWhirter!” He exclaimed roughly. “There’s
nothing wrong with the place. However, as you say, I don’t really
need you there; the night watchman at the country club can look
after things for me. I hope for your own sake that you have another
position in view——?”
“They’ll take me on as assistant ground keeper at the club, sir.”
MacWhirter’s tone was abashed. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful
——”
Storm waved that aside.
“It will be mean less wages.” He watched the man closely.
“Yes, sir. But I——” MacWhirter’s eyes fell. “I’d rather take it, sir, if
you don’t mind.”
Storm shrugged.
“It is all the same to me, MacWhirter. Let me see; your month is
up——?”
 “Tomorrow, sir.” There was unconcealed eagerness in the man’s
tone. “Of course, if you were thinking of getting another caretaker, I
could wait——”
“I shan’t.” Storm spoke with sudden decision. “I’m going away on
a long trip myself, and I have closed out my bank account, but I’ll pay
you off now in cash. Put the place in good order and mail me the
keys to-morrow.”
“I’ve brought them with me, sir.” MacWhirter rose, placed a bunch
of keys upon the table and gravely accepted the money. “Thank you,
sir. You’ll find the place in perfect order and the garden doing brave
and fine if you run out before you go away. I appreciate what you’ve
done for me, Mr. Storm, and I wouldn’t speak of leaving but for the
lonesomeness and my being of no real use.”
Storm cut the man’s protestations short and got rid of him with a
curtness but poorly masked. His manner more than his words had
conjured up a picture of the silent, deserted house standing amid the
bright flowers like a corpse decked for the funeral which made
Storm’s senses recoil as before a vision of something sinister and
full of dread.
For the life of him he could not put from his mind the swiftly
recurring memory of that sleeping garden on the night when he had
cast the handful of ashes out upon it and then drawn the curtains
that the coming moon might not peer through at what lay within. Had
those ashes of his first crime bred a fatal growth there among the
flowers? Had a phoenix risen from them to cry the deed in tones
audible only to MacWhirter’s susceptible Celtic ear?
In vain he cursed himself for a superstitious fool. Of course the
place was lonesome, but thank God! he was rid of the man and his
silly whims and fancies! No caretaker was needed there, anyway,
and in the fall he would cable George to sell it for him. Every closed,
deserted house in the country bore an aspect which the ignorant
would term ‘uncanny’, but there could be nothing real, nothing
tangible in the sensations which had driven MacWhirter away; no
lingering influence of that night’s event could remain to manifest itself
to those who might come within its aura.
He would like to have asked MacWhirter to explain himself, had
not common sense forbade. He felt an inordinate curiosity as to the
latter’s sensations, and a sort of dread fascination settled itself upon
him, a desire to see for himself if that house at Greenlea retained the
power to thrill or unnerve him.
Then with a supreme effort he cast aside the spell which had held
him in thrall. What utter rot such superstitions were in these
materialistic days! MacWhirter was lonely, and he had made use of
the first excuse which came handy to get out of an uncongenial job.
No ghosts walked save those which lived in memory, and Storm
would soon be free from them forever! But he must go soon! Such a
mood as this could not have fastened upon him had he not been
near the breaking point; not now, when everything had gone so
splendidly, when with consummate skill and daring he had attained
all his aims, overcome all obstacles, turned the very weapons of fate
into tools to serve his own ends!
He told himself defiantly that everything was before him, but he
was deucedly tired, that was all. He would rest thoroughly in the
woods, recoup his nerves and then start upon the real adventure.
Meanwhile, for the sake of his continued sanity he must put all
morbid thoughts of MacWhirter’s nonsense and of Greenlea from his
mind.
Yet when he presented himself before Nicholas Langhorne in the
latter’s sanctum at a little before noon his haggard face was
sufficient excuse for his errand.
“I wanted to know if it would be convenient for me to turn my work
over to someone else for the next week or two, Mr. Langhorne,” he
began. “I’m not feeling quite up to the mark; thought if I got away for
a time——”
“My dear Storm, I was going to suggest it to you myself.”
Langhorne waved him to a chair. “I’ve noticed that you were looking
badly, and it is natural enough under the circumstances. You really
should have taken a good rest at the time—er, a month ago. Arrange
for as long a vacation as you need to put yourself in shape again.
Sherwood or Bell or any of the minor officials can take over your
work.”
Storm flushed in resentment at the unconscious imputation. So
that was how his services were regarded by this pompous old idiot!
That was how he was appreciated!
 “Thank you,” he said stiffly, adding in swift irony: “If you can
possibly get along without me I should like to leave town almost
immediately.”
Langhorne nodded blandly.
“Just turn over your books to Sherwood to-morrow morning and
don’t give another thought to business until you return. Where have
you planned to go, my boy?”
The note of personal interest was as unusual as the paternal
address, but Storm still glowered.
“Up in the north woods, I think, for some bass fishing. I shall not
be gone longer than about ten days.” He rose. “I’m glad you can
spare me for I feel about all in.”
“Fishing!” Langhorne mused. “There is a lot of malaria in those
woods, Storm, and the discomforts of camp are abominable, to say
nothing of the indigestible cooking provided by the average guide.
Now, if you will take my advice, you will pick out some nice, quiet
country club with a good green and play your eighteen holes every
day. There is nothing like golf to set a man up; gentleman’s game,
steadies the nerve, clears the eye, fills the lungs with good fresh air
and not too strenuous. Golf——”
“I’ve played it,” Storm interrupted quietly, but the cold fury which
possessed him trembled in his tones. “I prefer fishing and I want to
rough it for a time. I won’t detain you any longer, Mr. Langhorne. My
books are in perfect order and can be turned over to-morrow.”
He withdrew, inwardly seething. Great God, must everyone he
encountered remind him? That driver, with the smudge of blood and
the long golden hair clinging to it, rose again before him as it had so
many times before, and in the privacy of his own office once more he
buried his face in his hands to ward off the vision. When, in heaven’s
name, would he be free from them all?
At least, his dismal treading of the eternal mill here had ceased
forever. When he turned over his books to Sherwood on the morrow
and locked his desk, he knew that he would never reopen it. When
he returned from the fishing trip it would be easy to plead further ill-
health until the moment came to send in his resignation. This phase
of existence was over.
 He raised his head and looked about at the small but luxuriously
appointed office, grown familiar through more than fifteen years of
occupancy; revoltingly familiar, he told himself bitterly. He loathed it
all! How had the smug, complacent years slipped by without
arousing rebellion in his soul before this? He had been a mere cog in
the machine——No! Not even that!—a useless appendage, tolerated
because of his father! And all the time, how little these daily
associates of his had known of the real man, of his possibilities, his
subsequent achievements!
He had fooled them, deceived them all, gotten away with two
stupendous crimes under their very noses, by gad, and not one of
them had an inkling of the truth!
A tap upon the ground glass door interrupted his self-laudation,
and Millard entered.
“Hello, Storm. Came to see if you would run out and have a bite
of lunch with me,” he began. “Glad you’ve reconsidered your
decision to take that long trip. Holworthy told me the news. Deucedly
hot to-day, isn’t it?”
“Holworthy?” Storm repeated in unguarded annoyance. What
perverse fate had brought those two together?
“Yes,” Millard replied to the unvoiced query. “When he ’phoned to
me this morning I asked him out to Greenlea, but he said he couldn’t
come; had to work late at the office with Abbott putting him in touch
with his details for the next fortnight because you and he—
Holworthy, I mean—were going off fishing together. Delighted to hear
it, old chap; only I wish I could join you, but you know how I am tied
up at home. It will do you a lot more good than months of poking
around by yourself thousands of miles from home.”
He chattered on, but Storm scarcely heard. What had George
telephoned to him about? The Horton case had not even been
mentioned between them on the previous night, but Storm knew well
the tenacity of George’s grasp of an opinion or theory. Had he been
sufficiently interested to try to probe Millard for further news? But
what news could there be?
This time he voiced the thought aloud.
“How about our wager, Millard? Still think you are going to win?”
 “I wish I were as sure of eternal salvation!” the other retorted
stoutly. “Of course I’ll win, Storm; that man and the money will be
found!”
“So it is ‘that’ man now, eh?” Storm watched him narrowly. “Your
friends at Headquarters have given up the idea of a gang, then?
They think it was a one-man job?”
“Well, no, not exactly.” Millard wriggled uncomfortably in the chair
in which he had seated himself, uninvited. “I haven’t learned
anything further from that source, but Holworthy’s theory the other
night sounded mighty feasible to me. It is a lot more likely that
Horton met some close friend and went off quietly to make a night of
it than that he trusted himself with that bag in his possession to a
crowd; and he couldn’t very well have been kidnapped. Holworthy is
getting to be as much of a bug on the case as I am. Said his one
regret in leaving town was that he would not be able to keep in touch
with it. He told me when he called me up to ask about the papers
——”
“What papers?” Storm interrupted.
“Why, those that were found wadded around the pistol in the
bag,” explained the other. “He wanted to know what the names of
them were and I told him they were all ‘Daily Bulletins’ of May
twenty-eighth, thirtieth——”
“Oh, for the Lord’s sake Millard, don’t go over all that again!”
Storm cried in uncontrollable exasperation.
Millard snickered.
“That’s what Holworthy said, or words to that effect. He had the
dates all down pat.” Then his face grew grave. “You may laugh at it if
you like, but I think it is a very important clue and one that is apt to
be a big factor in the solution of the case.”
“If you are basing your hopes of winning the money on a wad of
unmarked sheets of newspapers, I’ll get it from Holworthy and spend
it for you now.” Storm laughed a trifle grimly. “You two are a couple of
nuts over this thing! I hope Holworthy will leave his theories behind
him when he hits the woods trail with me!”
Millard took the hint and rose.
“You’ll see!” he declared. “How about lunch?”
Storm shook his head.
 “Sorry. Like to, old man, but I’m turning my books over to an
associate to-morrow and I’m up to my ears in work. By the way, I’ve
dismissed my gardener, MacWhirter, who has been looking after the
house out at Greenlea. It really doesn’t require a caretaker, you
know, and he has got a job as assistant ground keeper at the club.”
“He is a very good man,” Millard observed. “He kept your garden
in wonderful shape in the old days. How proud your poor wife was of
her flowers!—Well, I’ll run on. Hope I shall see you again before you
start on your trip, but if I don’t, I wish you the best of luck!”
“And you, with your wager,” Storm called after him. “Remember,
the money and the man, Millard!”
When the door had closed he sprang from his chair. Leila and her
flowers! Would no one let him forget? On a sudden impulse he had
told Millard a modified version of MacWhirter’s defection in order to
silence any idle gossip which might spring up at the club and in so
doing he had brought that tactless reminder down about his own
ears.
He could see her now in a soft cotton frock standing out under a
towering old lilac bush, its top just burgeoning in clusters of misty
lavender, the sun glinting down between the branches on her golden
hair. When she was warm it used to curl in little moist tendrils about
her forehead and the nape of her slender, white neck, and it felt like
spun silk between one’s fingers. . . .
Storm struck his forehead sharply with his clenched fist. What
was the matter with him to-day? Why couldn’t he control his
treacherous, wandering thoughts? This last unnerving vision had
been Millard’s fault, curse him! Well, he was through with Millard, just
as he was through with Langhorne and all the crew here and at the
club! They were out of his path from this moment on! Only George
remained to be tolerated a while longer for discretion’s sake——
Then the thought recurred to him of George’s telephoned query
to Millard. What on earth did he care about the papers that were
found in the bag? Horton had been a mere acquaintance of his of
years gone by; why should he take such a profound interest in the
murder?
Could old George have begun to suspect the truth after all?
During the long evening in his rooms on the previous night nothing