Merlyn's Magic Read Online Free PDF

bad thing. 'I'll see what I can find,' she
nodded. Food might help to counteract the alcohol he had been
consuming, too.
    It was a delightful kitchen, obviously belonging to a time
long-gone, with its huge open fireplace, copper pots and saucepans
hanging from hooks along its ledge. But Merlyn quickly discovered that
although the charm and character had been maintained in the room it was
also filled with every modern convenience, from a dishwasher to an
electric knife.
    The freezer was stocked with already prepared meals that
just had to be defrosted in the microwave and then heated in the oven,
and Merlyn mentally thanked the absent cook as she placed the beef
casserole in the oven to warm through, making the mixture for dumplings
before dropping them into the already warming meal, its aroma
mouthwatering.
    The kitchen at her flat was adequate, but it was nothing
like the luxury of this one, and Merlyn was humming softly to herself
as she put an apple pie in the oven with the beef. The humming stopped
abruptly as she straightened, her face flushed from the heat of the
oven, to find Rand Carmichael leaning against the wall just inside the
kitchen, watching her every movement.
    'As I haven't seen you since you brought up the fresh
coffee almost an hour ago, I thought perhaps you had made your escape
out the back door while you had the chance,' he drawled.
    Merlyn frowned a little as he made it sound as if she were
a prisoner here, although considering the state of the roads and the
broken telephone lines perhaps that was what she was! 'That would have
been ungrateful of me,' she dismissed, with an effort at her usual
confidence, although just knowing who he was made that difficult, if
not impossible.
    'But perhaps wise.' He straightened. 'I was near to being
drunk.'
    'Was?' She frowned at the past tense; he had seemed pretty
far gone to her.
    He gave a mocking inclination of his head at her
bluntness. 'I drank a couple of cups of black coffee and then took a
shower. I can assure you I am now completely sober.'
    That he had taken a shower was obvious by his still-damp
hair, although even now it was drying back into those riotously dark
curls. But the reckless glint had gone from his eyes, the anger from
his expression, and in its place had come a weary look, almost of
defeat.
    'I hope you like what I've chosen for dinner,' she said
lightly, some of her tension dissipating now that she was sure she
didn't have a drunken host to contend with; she had a feeling this man
could be dangerous enough, without that. 'There's a beef casserole,
with baked potatoes, and apple pie—'
    'I'm sure it will be fine,' he dismissed as a man not much
interested in the food he ate, ingesting it only through necessity.
    'Yes.' She eyed him frowningly. 'Well, if you would like
to wait in the lounge—'
    'I wouldn't,' he cut in softly.
    Merlyn was filled with a new wariness now as she sensed
the speculation in his gaze as it moved slowly over her body, the hair
on her nape seeming to stand on end as a ripple of awareness flowed
down her spine, her nipples suddenly taut against the softness of her
jumper.
    'Come here,' Rand suddenly instructed throatily, his
stance one of challenge.
    Her gaze flew to the hardness of his face. 'What?' she
said breathlessly.
    His brows rose slightly at her obvious nervousness. 'I
said come here,' he repeated slowly, his gaze lowering pointedly to the
hard thrust of her nipples beneath the clinging wool.
    She felt like a puppet having her strings pulled as she
crossed the room to stand in front of him, her eyes a dark stormy green
as she stared up at him, her breath caught in her throat as she waited
for the master to dictate what her next move should be.
    Rand returned her look with narrowed eyes, the slight rise
and fall of his chest indicating the shallowness of his breathing. The
bell of the timer on the microwave broke the spell, anger flaring in
Rand's eyes—white hot fury turning them from grey to
platinum. 'You