Witchcraft Read Online Free PDF Page A

Cavenaugh reminded himself, he knew what it was to want a woman. He also knew how quickly superficial desire could burn itself out. Sexual attraction was a compelling, if frequently short-lived drive. That was something he could handle. But when the attraction became enmeshed with other emotions and instincts such as this strange protectiveness, it threatened to metamorphose into something much stronger and infinitely more dangerous. Watching Kim now in the firelight, Cavenaugh admitted to himself that he wasn't quite certain why this particular woman held such fascination. He hadn't really been joking when he called her a witch.
    Amber was the word that came into his head whenever he had conjured up her image in his mind. For example, there were the warm amber curls that she wore in a delightfully straggly knot at the back of her head.
    It was understandable that several of the twisting tendrils had been loose the night he had met her. She had been through a hectic adventure in a storm. But tonight the suggestion of disarray was present again and he sensed the style was simply part of her personality. All Cavenaugh knew for certain was that he felt a strong urge to unpin the amber knot and watch her hair tumble around her shoulders. Amber described her eyes too. Golden brown and quick to reflect emotion.

    More than once during the past two months Cavenaugh had wondered what that gaze would look like shadowed with passion. There was nothing extraordinary about the rest of her features. There was strength in her face, intelligence in her glance. Cavenaugh sensed the willpower beneath the surface as well as an innate wariness, and he wondered idly what had caused the latter. He guessed that she was in her late twenties, perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Her body was pleasantly rounded and softly shaped with breasts that would perfectly fit the palm of his hand. He could see the outline of them beneath the butterscotch-and-black plaid sweater she wore. And that sweetly curved derriere so nicely revealed in the snug jeans made him want to reach out and squeeze. While everything went together in a reasonably attractive package it didn't explain the compulsion he had been experiencing to see Kimberly Sawyer again. Something else was at work. "Witchcraft," he

    ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html
    murmured. "Ridiculous," Kimberly declared, assuring herself Cavenaugh was no longer alluding to the glimmering tension that had sprung up between them. "I overreacted to that damn rose. I'm sure it's someone's idea of a sick joke."
    "But you called me today."

    "I almost called you," she corrected firmly. "I kept changing my mind because I kept realizing how foolish it was to take that thing too seriously!' He sent her an assessing glance. "I'm here now." "I told you two months ago that there was absolutely no need for you to feel you owed me anything!"

    "I rather thought it would be money," he said musingly. She glared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

    "I somehow assumed that when you decided to collect on the debt, it would be money you'd want."

    "I certainly don't need any of your money!" she exploded tightly. "The Amy Solitaire books do all right?"

    "They do just fine, thank you. "I couldn't be sure," he explained gently, examining the inside of the beach cottage. "After all, you live way out here in the middle of nowhere, drive a ten-year-old car, dress in jeans that look about as ancient as the car--" He broke off with a shrug. "How was I to know your financial status?"

    "I live out here because it suits me. Writers need lots of privacy and quiet, in case you didn't know. As for the car, well, I realize it's not exactly a late model Cadillac, but then I never did like Cadillacs. And the jeans happen to be very comfortable.

    Writers like comfortable clothes," she added far too sweetly. "You're getting annoyed, aren't you?"

    "Sharp of you to notice."

    "You're also scared," he reminded