Bewitched by His Kiss (May Day Mischief) by Barbara Monajem Read Free Book Online Page B

said at last. “A fraud.”
    She shrugged again. “My uncle wanted me off his hands. He would have forced me to marry you if I hadn’t become betrothed to Alexis. I had no choice.”
    “Hogwash. No one is capable of forcing you to do what you don’t want.” David paused. “Or think you don’t want.” What was that smell? He glanced toward the tray with two small teapots and a cup of steaming tisane. He strode over to it, sniffed and took a sip. “Tansy? And wormwood. You’d kill a child rather than marry me?”
    A spasm of misery crossed her fine features. “Most likely there is no child. This is just a precaution.”
    He dashed the contents of the cup into the fireplace. With an effort of control, he refrained from throwing the cup, as well. “You disgust me,” he said. He blew out a long, trembling sigh. All hope drained from him, and all desire.
    She bit her lip, and he thought he saw tears gather, but none fell. He must have imagined them. He’d been imagining things about her for three long years. She stood rigid and silent, waiting, he supposed, for him to go.
    “It’s only the magic, isn’t it? That’s the only reason you were unwilling to accept me.”
    She shivered and gave a convulsive little nod.
    “How much proof must you have? If our first meeting seemed a coincidence, did the second, as well? If the unquenchable desires weren’t enough, if destroying both our lives hasn’t convinced you, what about the other indications? What about Peony’s instant success when she rolled in the dew?”
    Her eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
    “Alexis saw her and fell in love on the spot.”
    Lucasta sucked in a breath. “Peony told me nothing of this.” She made as if to move for the door.
    He put up a hand. “No, don’t confront Peony with it. She hasn’t yet agreed to the marriage. Let them sort it out for themselves. They deserve to draw their own conclusions without your insistent disbelief threatening to destroy their love.”
    “I would never—” she began, and stopped. Swallowed. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. They are clearly perfect for one another, regardless of how ridiculously it came about.”
    She still didn’t believe. Never in his life had he met such stubbornness.
    “Nothing will convince you, not your own experiences, not Peony’s, not a wood that keeps you out or traps you inside, that produces a moonlit glade with a carpet of moss for the consummation of love...”
    Her face remained set. Not a muscle twitched. She might as well be a statue.
    He couldn’t take it anymore. He stalked to the door and turned.
    She was hugging herself now, as if she would fall apart if she let go. But the dark fires in her eyes told him she would never give in while he confronted her. She might never give in at all.
    He hated this. Loathed putting the control of his life and his happiness into the hands of another. He would give her a day to think it over, and then leave, never to see her again.
    “It’s hard to believe such an intelligent—no, such a brilliant woman—can also be such a pigheaded fool.” He opened the door but paused. “Needless to say, I was a fool, too. I believed that love was enough. That love conquers all.” He shook his head and left.
    * * *
    Lucasta locked the door behind Elderwood, although she knew full well he wouldn’t return. She opened her window and poured the rest of the tansy and wormwood tisane onto the garden. She sipped her way through a cup of mint and rosemary tea, but it did nothing for her headache. Still shivering, she climbed into bed and curled into a ball, but with nothing to do but think, the pounding merely got worse. Hardly surprising, since her mind had become a battleground where all the armies were losing the war.
    Love . Did he mean that he loved her? She’d thought of his feelings for her as merely lust, driven by his fascination with magic.
    It didn’t matter. Whatever he might have felt, he despised her now.
    Was she