Powerful Magic Read Online Free PDF

sorry."
               But he had turned back to the fire and if he heard her he gave no sign.  
               Her stomach growled, reminding her that all she'd eaten had been a cereal bar that morning.   She'd been so worried and afraid about breaking up with Roger that she hadn't been able to eat much for days.  
               Roger terrified her.   It had come slowly at first, the small slights, the put-downs, the sneers.   When he'd begun hurting her, she'd slid into a kind of meek acceptance.  
               But recently she'd begun to realize she might be in even more grave danger.   He'd begun pestering her to change her will.   Then she knew she had to end things.   Whatever Roger felt for her, Megan knew it wasn't love.
               Now here she stood, feeling like she was starring in some old episode of The Twilight Zone, with a man who looked like Conan the Barbarian.   Freezing her heinie off.
               Despite the increasing weirdness of her situation, the thought made her smile.   Maybe she really was dreaming.   That would explain the change of season and the reason she'd responded so strongly to the kiss of a stranger.
               A gorgeous stranger, she reminded herself, but a stranger nonetheless.
               If it were a dream - and really, what other explanation could there be - she ought to enjoy it.   Obviously, her subconscious had conjured up this hunk because he was exactly what she needed at this point in her life.   He was nothing, she let herself eye him up and down, nothing whatsoever like Roger.
               Thank God.
               And until she woke up - if she woke up - and had to face her fiance's furious face, she might as well have a little fun.   At the very least, this big warrior would keep her warm.
               Bold thoughts for a coward.   The plain truth of the matter was that Kenric of Blackston's kiss had left her hungry for more.  
               Still, trying to plot out one's own fantasy might be
    easier thought of than done.   This man, this warrior was one intimidating specimen.   He had made it perfectly obvious he thought her slightly unbalanced, if not downright insane.  
               But she'd seen the hot look in his eyes as he'd perused her body, felt his arousal when he'd kissed her.   Her own body tingled, her heart beat faster when she thought of it.   She'd never felt like that before.   She wanted to feel that way again.  
               If this wasn't a dream - and really, what else could it be - she was in trouble.   Megan Potter, twenty-eight year old heiress and straitlaced socialite, desired a man who dressed in clothes more suited for some sort of playacting group, whose hair was longer than her own, and of whom she knew next to nothing.
               But she had been engaged to Roger for nearly three years and he'd never, ever made her hunger for a kiss as this man had.
               Working up her courage, she moved closer.
               His shaggy head came up, his expression fierce and wary as he eyed her.   "What do you want?"
               Now or never.  
               "I want you to hold me."   She managed to say in a strangled whisper, feeling her face heat.
               Disbelief flashed across his rugged face.   Then slowly, his gaze darkened and she saw the fire of passion heat his glittering eyes.
               "Woman, be careful how you tempt me."   He growled.   "I have already told you--"
               "No."   Still blushing furiously, she struggled to find words to explain.   Or an excuse.   "It's cold."
               "Cold?"  
               Like he hadn't noticed.   Megan sighed.   "I thought
    maybe..."   Heaven help her, she couldn't do it, even if this
    was a dream.   "Never mind."