The Pleasure Master Read Free Page A

lost her memory, wandered to a different place?
    Stop shaking. You’re New York tough. New Yorkers are survivors.
This time when she pushedat him, he let her go. Scrambling away from the man on the ground, she reached her purse and yanked out her cell phone.
    Breathlessly, she pushed 911, then waited until a male voice answered.
    â€œPlease, I need help.” Her teeth chattered. With cold or fear? Probably both. “My name is Kathy Bartlett and I—”
    The voice interrupted.
    â€œNo, I’m not hurt. I don’t know about the imminent danger part. I’m—”
    Interruption.
    â€œWhere am I? Somewhere in
Braveheart
, I think.”
    The voice wasn’t amused.
    â€œOkay, okay, I’m . . .” She turned to the man, who still sat leaning against the rock. “Where am I?”
    He wasn’t smiling. A frown creased his forehead as he stared at her phone. “Ye’re betwixt Cromarty and Dornoch Firths.”
    â€œ
Firth?
What the heck is a firth? Firth doesn’t sound like a New York name.” He didn’t sound like a New York man. She fought to control the nauseous fear trembling in the pit of her stomach and faithfully repeated what he’d said.
    â€œWhat do you mean there’re no streets with those names? Sure there are. I bet you could find dozens of Cromarty and Dornoch streets. I bet there’re two named after Dominic Cromarty and Christine Dornoch.”
    The voice had no sense of humor.
    â€œFine, so I’m not hurt, so I’m not in
imminent
danger, but . . . Why do I have to call my local authorities?” She glared at the man on the ground, then glared at her cell phone.
    â€œEmergencies? You think this isn’t an
emergency?
You’d better . . .” Damn! He’d hung up. Carefully, she returned the phone to her purse, afraid she’d drop it from her shaking fingers.
Save the power until you figure out the right person to call.
    She was in deep doo-doo, but she’d calmly and logically reason things out. Hah! She was so scared that any minute the fright fairy would swoop down and crown her Queen of Queasy Stomachs.
    She turned back to the man, then gasped when she found he now stood beside her. Sitting, he’d looked formidable. Standing, he was downright intimidating. Towering above her with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun, if there’d been a sun, and dressed in clothing that looked way too authentic for Kathy’s taste, he practically oozed raw primitive power.
    She wanted to step back. Step back, turn, and run for her life. But where? And she didn’t doubt he’d catch her before she’d taken five steps. Clenching her shaking hands into fists, she glared at him. “Don’t touch me or I’ll—”
    â€œOr ye’ll what, lass?” He smiled. “Cover my manhood wi’ a potion that will deny the pleasure of a woman’s body to me forever?” He walked overand picked up her can of mousse. Handling it carefully, he returned it to her.
    Without comment, she put it in her purse.
    â€œBe ye a witch?” He didn’t smile when he asked.
    An incredible
explanation
was jumping up and down just outside the door to her thoughts, shouting to get her attention. She couldn’t make it go away, but she didn’t have to answer the door.
    Just stick with the facts.
Two hulking giants run screaming from mousse attack. General landscape in no way resembles Times Square on Christmas Eve. Conclusion. Primitive area inhabited by big scary primitive men. Hmm.
    Think. If she was in a primitive area, then she’d better squash this witch thing. Being burned at the stake was
not
on her list of fun things to do on a Saturday night. No, she definitely couldn’t be a witch. “I’m . . . I’m a princess. That’s right, I’m a princess, and I’m lost.”
    â€œA princess?” He looked puzzled.
    She relaxed slightly. He didn’t