beautiful.â Unable to resist, she curved her hand around the pendant. And felt a bolt of heat, like the rush of a comet, spurt from her fingertips to her toes. âGod!â
Before she could snatch her hand away, Flynn closed his own over hers. âPower,â he murmured. âYou feel it. Can all but taste it. A seductive thing. And inside, you can make yourself think thereâs nothing impossible. Look at me, Kayleen.â
She already was, could do nothing else. Wanted nothing else. There you are, she thought again. There you are, at last.
âI could have you now. You would willingly lie with me now, as you have in dreams. Without fear. Without questions.â
âYes.â
And his need was a desperate thing, leaping, snapping at the tether of control. âI want more.â His fingers tightened on hers. âWhat is it in you that makes me crave more, when I donât know what more is? Well, weâve time to find the answer. For now, Iâll tell you a story. A young magician left his family. He traveled and he studied. He helped and he healed. He had pride in his work, in himself. Some said too much pride.â
He paused now, thinking, for there had been times in this last dreaming that heâd wondered if that could be so.
âHis skill, this magicianâs, was great, and he was known in his world. Still, he was a man, with the needs of a man, the desires of a man, the faults of a man. Would you want a man perfect, Kayleen?â
âI want you.â
âLeannana.â He leaned over, pressed his lips to her knuckles. âThis man, this magician, he saw the world. He read its books, listened to its music. He came and went as he pleased, did as he pleased. Perhaps he was careless on occasion, and though he did no harm, neither did he heed the rules and the warnings he was given. The power was so strong in him, what need had he for rules?â
âEveryone needs rules. They keep us civilized.â
âDo you think?â It amused him how prim her voice had become. Even held by the spell, she had a strong mind, and a strong will. âWeâll discuss that sometime. But for now, to continue the tale. He came to know a woman. Her beauty was blinding, her manner sweet. He believed her to be innocent. Such was his romantic nature.â
âDid you love her?â
âYes, I loved her. I loved the angel-faced, innocent maid I saw when I looked at her. I asked for her hand, for it wasnât just a tumble I wanted from her but a lifetime. And when I asked, she wept, ah, pretty tears down a smooth cheek. She couldnât be mine, she told me, as much as her heart already was. For there was a man, a wealthy man, a cruel man, who had contracted for her. Her father had sold her, and her fate was sealed.â
âYou couldnât let that happen.â
âAh, you see that, too.â It pleased him that she saw it, stood with him on that vital point. âNo, how could I let her go loveless to another? To be sold like a horse in the marketplace? I would take her away, I said, and she wept the more. I would give her father twice what had been given, and she sobbed upon my shoulder. It could not be done, for then surely the man would kill her poor father, or see him in prison, or some horrible fate. So long as the man had his wealth and position, her family would suffer. She couldnât bear to be the cause of it, even though her heart was breaking.â
Kayleen shook her head, frowned. âIâm sorry, but that doesnât make sense. If the money was paid back and her father was wealthy now, he could certainly protect himself, and he would have the law toââ
âThe heart doesnât follow such reason,â he interrupted, impatiently because if heâd had the wit in his head at the time, instead of fire in his blood, heâd have come to those same conclusions. âIt was saving her that was my first