Spellbound & Seduced Read Free Page A

choice, her magic which ensured she would never know the happiness of true love. A bleak enough future for sure, but knowing it would also be without tragedy, without the sorrow and anguish she had seen her mother suffer, had always helped comfort her lonely hours. Though tonight…
    Tonight, fate had brought her Lawrence Connaught. Tonight, for the first time, she knew the lure of temptation. She could never have love, but that did not mean she had always to be alone. Yearning, until now quite undefined, sharpened and focused. Longing, wanting to taste just a little of what was forbidden, now that it had shape—such a very attractive shape—was so much harder to resist. What harm could it do to open the door to that forbidden chamber just a little? To take just a step into the sensual, glittering world of desire? A moment out of time to warm her in the cold nights to come.
    Jura tipped the crushed leaves for the tisane from the mortar into a linen sachet. She didn’t mean it, of course. She was merely indulging her imagination. No harm in that. She picked up the jar of balm. The knot in her stomach tightened. She didn’t mean it, but what harm if she did?

Chapter Two
    Night had taken hold as Jura lifted the latch on the cottage door, a dark, lowering night heavy with snow clouds which quite obscured the stars. Lawrence was sprawled in the chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, calves and feet bare. His coat hung from the back of the settle. His waistcoat too. His boots stood on the hearth, his stockings draped over them. He had loosened his neckcloth. A thick lock of black hair fell over his brow. He was sleeping.
    Pouring water from the kettle into a bowl, Jura took a cloth and set about cleaning the cut on his brow. His face, his hands, his throat were lightly tanned. Pushing back his hair, she could not resist tangling her fingers in its natural curl. He opened his eyes. The blue of rosemary flowers. Captivating blue. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked.
    What he felt, Lawrence thought, was quite overwhelmed by her nearness. Jura exuded femininity, as if imbued by everything he most loved of women. ‘My ministering angel,’ he said.
    She laughed softly. ‘Ministering yes, but I doubt if you knew me you’d call me an angel.’ She could see just enough of the bare skin at his throat to make her want to see more. In the soft glow of the firelight, with the door bolted against the night, she could imagine they were alone in the world. Lawrence’s chest rose and fell. Yearning so acute it was painful assailed her, making her lean closer to him just for the simple pleasure of feeling another’s skin near hers, for the simple pleasure of being close enough to have his breath whisper over her.
    â€˜If not an angel, then you must surely be an enchantress,’ Lawrence said, trying to unravel the scent of her. An undertone of lemony herbs overlaid with spice, the whole resonant of an exotic perfume, it made him dizzy with desire. ‘You are certainly quite enchanting.’
    He closed his eyes as she smoothed a pleasant-smelling balm over his cut. Lavender and sage, he could detect. A silken strand of her hair caressed his cheek. Her fingers were gentle. It should have been soothing, but he couldn’t help imagining those same fingers stroking other parts of him, her hair shimmering over other parts too.
    Jura handed him a glass. ‘Drink this. It will ease your headache. It’s whisky and a tincture of herbs, perfectly harmless.’
    â€˜ Uisge beatha.’ he said, trying to ignore the curve of breasts that were on a level with his chin, the way her bare leg brushed his. ‘Water of life. My mother taught me that.’ He took another sip, and then another. The drink did not seem to be having the soporific effect on him that spirits usually had. Instead he felt over-sensitized and at the same time light-headed, reckless. He stretched to place