Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams Read Free Page B

separated from the darkness of the front court.
    Nor did she see the glittering eyes which scrutinized her, harder than burnished steel.
    â€œNice…very nice,” a hard voice growled. “And it’s about bloody time you got here.”
    Her breath checked, Kacey spun about.
    He stood well over six feet, broad-shouldered and lean, eased into a battered tweed jacket and form-fitting charcoal trousers. His face was a fascinating play of angles and shadows in the darkness of the stables.
    His eyes smoldered.
    Dangerous, she thought dimly, sensing an aura of power about him that fairly crackled.
    And made her own skin tingle in response.
    Frowning, Kacey tamped down her rioting pulse. “Who—” To her fury, she found she had to swallow before continuing. “Who are you? You nearly terrified me.”
    The man continued to study her in silence, a lock of black hair fallen across his brow.
    Her frown grew. “Lord Draycott? But I thought…” For the first time, Kacey noticed the faint silver scar running across the man’s cheekbone.
    It gave him the cold look of a pirate—a modern-day pirate, the sort who would raid corporations rather than coastal settlements.
    One dark brow slanted up, mocking her.
    The sight made Kacey lift her chin and stare back coolly, her green eyes glittering.
    â€œDon’t let them intimidate you, love,” Cassandra had warned her back in New York. “These wretched bluebloods will walk all over you if you give them half a chance. Don’t forget, it’s still the sixteenth century as far as they’re concerned.”
    Only Kacey wasn’t about to be any man’s doormat.
    Her lips tight, she shot him a challenging look. “I’m K. C. Mallory. Cassandra Edwards sent me.”
    The man’s expression did not change. “Cassandra Edwards?” He seemed to find the name unfamiliar.
    His voice was dark silk, and it made Kacey’s skin tighten and prickle. The sight of that dark hair shadowing his open collar was doing equally strange things to her pulse.
    Get a hold of yourself, Kacey girl.
    â€œI’ve come about the—” She started to say “the Whistler,” then recalled that Lord Draycott had stipulated that the project be kept totally secret. “About the research work,” she finished carefully.
    His eyes slid from her windblown hair to the tips of her boots, missing no detail. Finally his full lips curved in the ghost of a smile.
    â€œNice. Yes, very nice, indeed. I shall have to thank—Cassandra, did you say her name was?” He moved a step closer, his face made even leaner by the shadows.
    â€œCassandra Edwards,” Kacey repeated impatiently, trying to ignore the sudden trip beat of her heart. She saw his lips tense in a hard line, as if he were struggling to retain his control.
    Dimly, Kacey found herself wondering just what it would take to make him lose that control, to melt the ice in those wintry eyes. She shivered slightly, her pulse jerky. “You are Lord Draycott, aren’t you?”
    â€œDoes it matter?”
    Kacey frowned. What was wrong with the man, anyway? “I’d like an answer. Now. If you are not Lord Draycott, then I’m wasting my time here.”
    â€œOh, you’re not wasting your time, my dear. I assure you of that.” Smiling, the man moved a step closer, so close now that Kacey could feel the heat of his hard body. “The Cassandra Edwards in New York, is it, by any chance?”
    â€œOf course it is. She received your cable last—” Kacey hadtime for no more. Somehow his fingers were cradling her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.
    She froze. “What do you think you’re—”
    â€œFirst things first, my dear,” he murmured, moving closer, so that she felt his heat in earnest, along with the barely unleashed power of his lean body.
    Until she wanted to feel much, much more.
    What in