Mysteria Nights

ordered again, sharply this time.

She obeyed. She was panting, skin overly hot. At least he’d covered himself with a robe, blocking all that male deliciousness from her view. “What’s going on? How did you do this? You don’t have any powers.”

He eased beside her, and the mattress jiggled. She tried to scoot away, but the chains didn’t allow her to go very far. “No, I don’t have powers. But I do have a friend who is dating a witch who wants her sister happy.”

Her jaw went slack. “Evie helped you?”

Leaning forward and wafting the scent of man and dark spice to her nose, Falon began wrapping the cloth underneath the chains, protecting her skin. Do not soften. She’d taken the antilove potion. She shouldn’t have to warn herself to remain distant, but the potion wasn’t freaking working.

“Hunter questioned Evie about the pen,” he finally explained. “Apparently, Evie failed to tell you that she had a charm to counteract the effects of it.”

“I don’t understand.” Come closer, keep touching me. She had to bite her lip to keep the words inside.

“Anything negative you wrote about the person wearing the charm would be done to you instead.”

Shock sliced through her, as hot as he was. “That’s—that’s—”

“What happened. Hunter also emptied out your potions and replaced them with colored water. Just in case you tried to feed me one.”

So that was why . . . “That little jackass!” No wonder the antilove potion hadn’t worked. Now she was helpless, on her own. The knowledge should have panicked her all the more. Instead, she found herself praying his robe would split, and she would be able to see his nipples. Maybe lick them.

“I had wondered what kind of scene you would write, and must admit I’m surprised by what you chose. I expected hungry lions or a raging, bloody battle and thought I would have to pluck you from its midst. I’d even draped myself in armor, just in case. Then that armor disappeared and I began to hope . . .”

Her cheeks flamed; they were probably glowing bright red. She tried to cover her embarrassment by snapping, “Why didn’t my clothing disappear instead? Since you have the charm and all.”

“The removal of clothing isn’t negative.” His head tilted to the side, and his gaze roved over her. He frowned. “Why do you write yourself like that?”

“Like what?”

“So . . . thin.”

“Because,” was all she said. Because I want to be pretty for you.

“I like you better the other way.”

“Liar. Now write me out of this scene!”

He shook his head. “Hell, no. I’ve got you right where I’ve always wanted you. And I’m not a liar. In fact, I refuse to touch you while you’re like this. When you’re back to normal, then the loving can begin.”

A tremor rocked her. She didn’t dare hope . . . “The chains will disappear by then, too, and if you think I’m staying here, you’re crazy.”

“You can be rechained.”

Good point. “The pleasuring will never begin, because I’ve decided I don’t want you.”

“Now who’s lying?” He pulled a plush lounge next to the bed and sat, gaze never leaving her. “I’ll make a pact with you. I won’t lie to you, if you won’t lie to me. From now on, we’ll be completely honest with each other. Okay?”

“Whatever you say,” she said in a sugar-sweet tone.

“So what do you think of my bedroom?”

“It’s—” She’d been about to say something mean, but then her sights snagged on the crystal chandelier, dripping with thousands of teardrops. On the intricately carved dresser, orchids spilling from vases. A bejeweled tray provided the centerpiece. “Unexpected,” she finally finished.

“Everything inside the house was a gift from my brother.”

Her head snapped toward him. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Falon nodded, his hair dancing over his cheeks. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but that’s going to change. We’re going to get to know each other, Glory.”

“No.” That would defeat the purpose of loving and leaving. If he continued this, she would leave, but she would not be unscathed.

“Oh, yes,” he insisted. “And every time you reveal a fact about yourself, you’ll earn a reward.”

Goose bumps spread over her skin. “And if I remain quiet?”

Slowly, he grinned. “You’ll earn a punishment. I have the pen, after all.”

This is not fun. This is not exciting. I am not turned on. “Fine. Tell me how many women you’ve had in here.” There. That should deepen—dampen—her terrible—wonderful—mood.

“You are the first.”

She flashed him a scowl. “I thought we weren’t going to lie to each other anymore.”

“I spoke true. You are the first woman I’ve ever allowed inside this bedroom.”

“What about the fairy? That night—”

He held up a hand for silence. “I sent her home the moment you were out of sight.”

Seriously? Glory didn’t know whether or not to believe him, but she adored the idea of his claim. “What about Kayla?”

“Sent her home, too. I didn’t want her; I wanted you. As you might have guessed, I used her to get your attention.”

“Well, you got it,” she grumbled, then cringed at the admission.

“I noticed you the first day I moved into town, you know,” he said.

He’d noticed her? In a good way? She shivered, feeling as if his hands were already on her, caressing, stoking her desire.

“Cold?” he asked.

She nodded, because she didn’t want to admit his words had ignited a storm of desire inside her.

He rose, grabbed the black silk comforter, and tugged it over her. The material was cool against her skin, but damn it, it didn’t dampen her need. No, it increased it. Every nerve ending she possessed cried for him.

Falon placed a soft kiss on her lips. Automatically she opened her mouth to take it deeper. He pulled away.

A moan slipped from her.

“Soon,” he said as he reclaimed his seat. His voice was tense. “Now, back to the first time I saw you. You were outside with your sisters and selling your potions. At the time, I didn’t know they were potions. I just saw a beautiful woman with rosy skin and hair like flame.”

She gulped, couldn’t speak.

“I wanted you so badly.” As he spoke, his fingertip caressed her thigh. “I was making my way toward you when I heard the words ‘potion’ and ‘witch,’ and then I couldn’t get away from you fast enough.”

Maybe he was telling the truth about his desire for her. Maybe he did like her just the way she was. Maybe . . .

“I never tortured anyone until I met you,” she admitted softly.

His head tilted to the side, and he studied her intently, violet eyes blazing. “Why me?”

“Because,” was all she said.

“Glory.”

Just tell him. She sighed. “Because I wanted you, and I knew I couldn’t have you.”

“You wanted me?” he asked huskily.

“You know I did.” She watched him from the corner of her eye. He leaned back and stretched his legs out and up, the robe falling away and revealing his strong calves. There were calluses on the bottoms of his feet, as if he often ran through the forest without shoes on. Made her wonder if he wore any clothes at all. Her stomach quivered with the thought.

“Tell me about the first time you noticed me. Please.”