Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams by Christina Skye

swept her up and carried her back to the gatehouse.
    Her throat turned dry; heat swirled through her.
    Just simple, low-grade lust, Kacey told herself flatly. He’s one damn handsome man, and it’s been far too long since you’ve had a good case of lust.
    Dark and unreadable, his eyes grazed her lips. Suddenly Draycott smiled as if he’d read her guilty thoughts.
    Heat swept across Kacey’s high cheekbones, staining her face and neck. At that moment Draycott’s daunting butler enteredbearing steaming trays of eggs, crisp bacon, toast points and an array of condiments.
    â€œAh, Marston. Thank you.” Nicholas settled back in his chair, waiting for the servant to finish before resuming the conversation.
    In the interim, Kacey studied the room. Everything was exceedingly civilized. Fine old china. Gleaming crystal. A blinding array of silver—all sporting the Draycott dragon crest, of course.
    The butler served discreetly while the earl murmured polite suggestions to Kacey. But by the time the servant withdrew, she was feeling very much the interloper, the clumsy colonial upstart. She knew she had faint shadows under her eyes, and her coloring was just short of cadaverous. Her hair must have looked a total disaster. She sat in the blinding sunlight, feeling like a grubby schoolgirl summoned before the lord of the manor, who sat infuriatingly neat and crisp in a white shirt, tailored wool pants, and a much-worn wool jacket in a muted gray tweed.
    Kacey began to toy with her eggs.
    â€œYou may eat them, you know. They’re neither drugged nor poisoned, I assure you.”
    But at that moment she couldn’t have swallowed anything. “I’m—I’m not very hungry,” she lied. Unfortunately her stomach chose that precise instant to growl—quite loudly.
    Draycott’s brows slanted upward. “Indeed.”
    There it was again. That irritating word which could mean a thousand things—or nothing at all.
    â€œAs I was saying, we appear to have two choices, Miss Mallory.”
    â€œIndeed,” Kacey said silkily, managing to force down a spoonful of eggs.
    Something flared deep in Draycott’s eyes for a moment, but he ignored her mocking imitation. “One is for you to leave today, as you seem so dead-set on doing. That would hurt both of us. You, because you’ll never get to see the Whistler again, and me,because something tells me I’ll never find another conservator with even half your skill.”
    His calm assessment stunned Kacey. “And the second option?” she asked, somewhat breathlessly.
    â€œIs that you stay on here at the abbey. I’ll see that you have free access to the painting, along whatever materials and tools you require. Your hours will be entirely your own. That, my dear Miss Mallory, would be to both our benefits.”
    It was tempting, Kacey had to admit. By daylight, the man looked almost human.
    Almost, she reminded herself quickly. He tossed you over his shoulder like a caveman yesterday, remember? He thought you were a call girl hired for a night’s pleasure.
    â€œSo which is it to be, Miss Mallory?” Draycott’s gray eyes taunted her. “Or do you perhaps feel unequal to the job?”
    Kacey stiffened. “I’m more than up to any job you can give me, Lord Draycott.” Her jade eyes glittering, she shot him a furious look. “And don’t you have a real-life name? We Yanks have never cared much for ranks and titles, you know.”
    The dark brow slanted higher. “Nicholas is my given name. You may use it, if you prefer, since my title seems to make you uncomfortable. But if it’s not the work you’re afraid of, then perhaps it’s something else.” His slate eyes narrowed. “Me, perhaps?”
    â€œIn a pig’s eye!”
    â€œYourself then? After all, your performance last night was quite convincing. One might almost say you put your heart and