Must Be Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

stubborn tongue for flapping when it shouldn’t. He needed this position.
    â€œLearn.” Advancing from behind the desk, she gestured with long, beringed fingers at shelves of books behind him. “I wish to start with propagating roses and progress to the development of other varieties. I mean to produce perfumes from my own distillations.”
    Standing there beside him, she absently patted his arm. “I have discovered that growing things is very”—her voice caught—“difficult.”
    Beneath the sizzle of her caress, Dunstan lost the power to focus on the hitch in her voice. He had the distant notion that she’d just hired him without question or interview, but the headiness of her perfume and her stirring touch blurred his brain.
    As if sensing that, the lady tilted her coiffed head to regard him carefully, and Dunstan steeled himself, refusing to look down any further than the cap beneath his nose. If he tried hard, he could watch the robin in the bush outside the window.
    â€œFlowers produce no income,” he insisted, gritting his teeth. “My usual salary is based on the income I produce. How will you pay for my services?”
    He thought she glared at him before she swung on her high heels and click-clacked away.
    â€œI believe I told you to name your price,” she said. “I have use of my late husband’s entire estate. Take a higher percentage of sheep sales for your salary to make up for the non-income-producing acreage.”
    Use of her husband’s estate? That did not sound very permanent. Dunstan debated questioning her, but he had no real choice. He needed money. His seeds needed immediate planting. He was here. She had land. It galled him to be obligated to a woman, but he knew he could prevent some other man from robbing her blind while doubling her income—if she’d allow it.
    â€œI can do that,” he said, testing the waters. “But I’ll need a field of my own for my experiments.”
    â€œTake whatever fields you need, drain fens, plant crops, whatever you wish outside of the flower gardens. Start as soon as you like.” Leila swung around to see how the arrogant son of an earl accepted her offer. She tried not to clench her fists and show her despair. This past month living in the country had sorely tried her patience. The few flowers she’d planted were dead or dying. She needed Dunstan Ives and his knowledge more than she’d imagined.
    Standing in front of her accounting desk, frowning at her as if she were some form of insect, Dunstan seemed to steal all the air in the room. He wore muddy boots, his tailored wool coat and vest were unfastened in the warmth of the spring sun, and he vibrated with male energy and hostility. She opened a casement to let a spring breeze enter, but the masculinity of his fragrance made him impossible to ignore. Restlessly, she picked up her fan and opened and closed it while pacing behind her desk.
    These past weeks had taught her how little practical knowledge she possessed, despite all her reading. Dunstan’s unexpected arrival had revived her hope, but now she understood the difficulty of dealing with the strong attraction of an Ives. How annoying that she must learn to face temptation at this late date.
    If only she could surrender her role as a pillar of society to explore these feelings… But circumstances didn’t allow that yet. She still had appearances to keep up and her authority to maintain, or her nephew and his fellows would run all over her.
    â€œI’ll need a house with an adequate cook and housekeeper,” Dunstan asserted.
    Leila lifted an inquiring eyebrow, but the thorny Ives refused to look at her. More experimentation in managing his prickly exterior was called for.
    â€œThe farmhouse down the lane is already prepared,” she answered, testing her strange perception of this angry man. “Have my butler give you directions.