anything in the world was to draw the lass to him, take her in his arms, and enchant her so deeply that she’d lean her head to the side and offer herself up for his pleasure…and her own. He’d make sure she enjoyed it.
Dear God, he needed to feed. Soon.
The lass was beautiful. Hair as dark as a moonless night hung down to her shoulders, making her look as innocent as a newborn babe. Silver eyes sparkled with intelligence. Beautiful, full lips the color of ripe berries were pursed tightly together. If he was standing close to her, he could kiss her forehead with a mere dip of his head, she was so tall.
She wasn’t part of the coven who’d imprisoned him. He knew that much. He’d never forget those five witches. Though this lass had many of the same features as the raven-haired one. Perhaps a sister?
“Who the devil is that?” the Scotsman with the same chilling silver gaze breathed.
She ignored him completely and spoke to James instead. “Doona move,” she said as she tossed a ball of fire lightly in her palm.
A ball of fire in her palm? He nearly laughed. She was definitely magical. That question had been answered.
Her silver eyes narrowed at him. “I dinna think ye were real.”
“Flesh and blood,” he said quietly. Well, not yet. But soon. He could almost taste her.
The Scotsman nearly fell over. “Ye were aware there was a man livin’ in the cellar and ye dinna tell me, Blaire? Have ye lost all yer wits?”
“Being sequestered in a smelly old castle has been known ta drive the sane straight ta Bedlam. Were ye no’ aware, Aiden?” She paused briefly as her gaze danced down James’ body. “And I believe we found the source of the odor.”
The Scotsman inhaled deeply. “I believe ye’re correct,” he said as his face scrunched up with displeasure.
James scratched at the stubble that lined his jaw before he glanced down at himself. In the light from her ball of fire, which hovered at the ready for her use, he could plainly see he was filthy. Dust covered him in layers and flew from his clothes in waves that caught on the flickering firelight as he bent to dust himself off.
“Pray forgive my appearance. I’m typically more presentable than I find myself at present.” He held out a hand to the man, hoping he’d take it in friendship. The man she referred to as Aiden glanced at her as though asking for permission. Strange. Why would he need permission to be sociable from the witch?
“Captain Aiden Lindsey,” he began. Then he shook his head with wonder as he clasped James’ hand. “How did ye end up in my cellar?” the man asked.
“To be quite honest, I don’t recollect how I came to be here. Where is here, by the way?”
“Briarcraig Castle,” the Scotsman said quietly. “Ye doona ken how ye came ta be locked away in the bowels of my castle?”
“No earthly idea,” James muttered. Though unearthly seemed to be the dominant trait in his present situation. “The last thing I remember was five w—,” he glanced at the lass. “Women,” he finished. “Five women who didn’t appear to like me very much.”
***
Blaire stood at the ready, though she felt like an interloper when the men began to talk as though they were meeting at an assembly hall instead of a musty cellar of an old Highland castle.
She found it difficult to look away from the stranger’s dark gaze. His eyes appeared to be black in the flickering light from her fire, but it was hard to tell. However, it was impossible to miss his strong body with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. Even beneath the odd, filthy clothing he wore, Blaire could see that he was more than the average man. But what he was, aside from being most unfashionable, eluded her completely.
One thing was for certain, however. The Englishman was dangerous. His presence in the castle didn’t make sense. He’d been trapped by magic. There was no denying its force upon the lock she’d just opened. The question was why.
She
Dear God, he needed to feed. Soon.
The lass was beautiful. Hair as dark as a moonless night hung down to her shoulders, making her look as innocent as a newborn babe. Silver eyes sparkled with intelligence. Beautiful, full lips the color of ripe berries were pursed tightly together. If he was standing close to her, he could kiss her forehead with a mere dip of his head, she was so tall.
She wasn’t part of the coven who’d imprisoned him. He knew that much. He’d never forget those five witches. Though this lass had many of the same features as the raven-haired one. Perhaps a sister?
“Who the devil is that?” the Scotsman with the same chilling silver gaze breathed.
She ignored him completely and spoke to James instead. “Doona move,” she said as she tossed a ball of fire lightly in her palm.
A ball of fire in her palm? He nearly laughed. She was definitely magical. That question had been answered.
Her silver eyes narrowed at him. “I dinna think ye were real.”
“Flesh and blood,” he said quietly. Well, not yet. But soon. He could almost taste her.
The Scotsman nearly fell over. “Ye were aware there was a man livin’ in the cellar and ye dinna tell me, Blaire? Have ye lost all yer wits?”
“Being sequestered in a smelly old castle has been known ta drive the sane straight ta Bedlam. Were ye no’ aware, Aiden?” She paused briefly as her gaze danced down James’ body. “And I believe we found the source of the odor.”
The Scotsman inhaled deeply. “I believe ye’re correct,” he said as his face scrunched up with displeasure.
James scratched at the stubble that lined his jaw before he glanced down at himself. In the light from her ball of fire, which hovered at the ready for her use, he could plainly see he was filthy. Dust covered him in layers and flew from his clothes in waves that caught on the flickering firelight as he bent to dust himself off.
“Pray forgive my appearance. I’m typically more presentable than I find myself at present.” He held out a hand to the man, hoping he’d take it in friendship. The man she referred to as Aiden glanced at her as though asking for permission. Strange. Why would he need permission to be sociable from the witch?
“Captain Aiden Lindsey,” he began. Then he shook his head with wonder as he clasped James’ hand. “How did ye end up in my cellar?” the man asked.
“To be quite honest, I don’t recollect how I came to be here. Where is here, by the way?”
“Briarcraig Castle,” the Scotsman said quietly. “Ye doona ken how ye came ta be locked away in the bowels of my castle?”
“No earthly idea,” James muttered. Though unearthly seemed to be the dominant trait in his present situation. “The last thing I remember was five w—,” he glanced at the lass. “Women,” he finished. “Five women who didn’t appear to like me very much.”
***
Blaire stood at the ready, though she felt like an interloper when the men began to talk as though they were meeting at an assembly hall instead of a musty cellar of an old Highland castle.
She found it difficult to look away from the stranger’s dark gaze. His eyes appeared to be black in the flickering light from her fire, but it was hard to tell. However, it was impossible to miss his strong body with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. Even beneath the odd, filthy clothing he wore, Blaire could see that he was more than the average man. But what he was, aside from being most unfashionable, eluded her completely.
One thing was for certain, however. The Englishman was dangerous. His presence in the castle didn’t make sense. He’d been trapped by magic. There was no denying its force upon the lock she’d just opened. The question was why.
She
Similar Books
