As Good as Gold Read Online Free PDF Page A

have no chance, Bel me lad. Might as well give in now.”
    Bel shook his head. “I... I can’t.” His gaze moved over to the iron box. His eyes narrowed in determination.
    “Oh, no,” she muttered. “No, no, no!” Daywen scooted past the two men and sat firmly upon the box. “That is mine!”
    Bel strode over to Daywen. “I don’t care. It’s going back to the gypsy and I’m getting my gold back.” He put his hands on her hips to lift her off the box. She grabbed his arms and kicked out at his legs.
    A perplexed look wrinkled his forehead. One of his arms snaked about her waist while the other moved to the back of her head. Before Daywen could draw another breath for a protest, he pulled her close and kissed her.
    Her heart thumped. When he released her, she found all her words of protest had fled.
    He had not lost his frown. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t live like this. I don’t care what you say. That faerie must go back.”
    Lachlan muttered something. To Daywen, it almost sounded like, “Ye be a greater fool than I thought.”
    ****
    Bel strode down the road until it became a trail leading into the woods. He had to return the faerie. “Can’t live like what?” Daywen insisted as she hurried after him. She caught up to him and dragged on his arm.
    Bel tugged against her grasp. “This faerie magic is making me lose my senses. And I can’t have you distracting me constantly.” That itch in the back of his head cried out for her. He wanted to kiss her, and so much more. He wanted to stroke her hair, he wanted to feel her skin and hear her voice. He drew her in and kissed her once more.
    “Then give me the bag and I’ll walk away,” she gasped when he let her come up for air.
    “I can’t let ye do that.” He couldn’t. He really couldn’t. Thoughts of carrying her over to the tall grass beside the road and making sweet love to her flitted through his head. “You wouldn’t get farther than five chains before--”
    Bel shook those thoughts from his head. This was the faerie’s magic causing him to lose his senses. He’d come across enough of such magic in his travels, but nothing as strong as this. Before they left, he’d chanted countercharms. He armed himself with cold iron borrowed from Lachlan. He’d even thought about turning his clothes inside out, but feared that if he took them off, he would not want to put them back on for quite some time. Still he was drawn to her.
    Daywen protested and dug in her heels, dragging at his grip on her arm. “You’re conceited, Belenus, if you think that this is all about you.”
    Bel slowed, but did not stop. “This is all about me. I know fae magic when I see it. I will not be trapped this way.”
    “This is no trap,” she spat. “Ye can walk away at any time. Give me the faerie and be gone.”
    “Oh, you think it that simple, do you? Do you think that this little spell will go away as soon as you do?” Images of his father, generally clueless in his life, yet so deliriously happy with his mother danced in his mind. Did the faerie do that? Bel couldn’t have that in his life. If he gave in to the magic, it would drive him mad every time he left Daywen behind to go searching for fae gold. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his task, and he’d be cursed and sent to his death by unseelie creatures.
    “No,” he stated. “The faerie goes back.” He shook her off and backed away.
    “Give me back my faerie!”
    “No,” he cried.
    Then he turned and ran.
    ****
    With a shriek of rage, Daywen lifted her skirts and set off after him.
    The man could run. No matter how hard her feet pounded the dust, no matter how much energy her anger gave her, the gap between them widened. Soon he passed out of sight and around a bend.
    Daywen did not slow down. While she ran, she thought about his reaction. He’d kissed her in the smithy. When he had, it was like setting a tumbled chair to rights. It was as if every chair around the table