Witchcraft

practical?"
    "You can bring your typewriter and anything else you need. There's plenty of room." She gritted her teeth.
    "I don't want to go with you."
    "I can see that." He reached out a hand to touch one of the curling tendrils of hair that had escaped the amber knot. "Are you more afraid of me than you are of whoever sent the rose?" he asked very softly. Mutely Kimberly stared up at him, aware of the controlled desire lying just below the surface of that green gaze.
    She felt the answering response in her own body and shook her head wonderingly. "You want me, don't you?" she asked very carefully. "Is that why you're afraid of me?" Cavenaugh released the curl of amber hair to let his fingertips gently graze the line of her throat. Kimberly flinched at the intimate touch. "Yes." His gaze narrowed. "You're an adult, self-confident woman. Why does my wanting you make you afraid?"
    She answered starkly as the fundamental truth came into her head.
    "Because you can't have me. And I think you could be very dangerous, Cavenaugh , in a situation where you can't have something you want." His hand fell away but even though he was no longer touching her, Kimberly could feel the faint menace in him. It was controlled but nonetheless formidable. It made her want to flee. Until today she had never known such an instinctive desire to run, least of all from a man. "Why can't I have you, Kim?" The words were spoken with a deceptively silky edge.
    She tried to keep her own voice calm and very matter-of-fact in an attempt to diffuse the stalking threat in him. "How about the trite, but true reason that you and I live in two different worlds?" Kimberly swung away from him, turning to face the hearth. "You are a man of property, community status, family responsibilities, commitments. You are tied to that winery and the people who live and work there just as much as they're tied to you. I understand how the demands of family and status and business all have to mesh for a man in your situation. I operate differently. I'm free. You're not. Whatever we might have together would, of necessity, have to be short-lived and unsatisfying.
    At least from my point of view. Of course, from your angle a brief, passionate little affair with no future might be just what you'd like.
    But I'm not willing to play the role of casual mistress for any man."
    She could feel the intensity of his gaze b urning into her as he moved silently up behind her. His nearness made her tingle faintly. The knowledge annoyed her. "You are afraid of me, aren't you? And you have the nerve to call yourself free? I don't think you know the meaning of the word." Nervously Kimberly stepped away from him. "Please, Cavenaugh , this has gone far enough." He hesitated and then shrugged. "Perhaps you're right. For now. We have a more pressing issue at hand."
    "The rose?"
    "I was referring to the little matter of where I'm going to sleep tonight," he retorted dryly. "Or did you intend to send me out into the storm?" The wind howled with increased ferocity, and rain hammered against the windows as if to impress upon Kimberly what a cruel female she would be if she actually drove Darius Cavenaugh from her home on a night such as this. He gave her a small, crooked smile and all of a sudden her sense of perspective returned. "I wouldn't throw my worst enemy out on a night like this and you're hardly in that category, are you?" He shook his head, but the faint expression of amusement disappeared and he gave her a surprisingly serious look. "No. I'm not your enemy. Never that. We're bound together in some way, you and I."
    "Because you feel you owe me something because of what I did for Scott."
    "That's part of it. But who can always say why a man and a woman find themselves linked? There are other ties that bind," he reminded her softly. "Uh-huh. Ties of family and responsibility and status. I've already mentioned them. And none of those ties exist between you and me." Cavenaugh raised heavy black brows in sudden enlightenment.
    "You're looking for a real life Josh Valerian, aren't you? Another self-sufficient, self-contained loner with no emotional ties or responsibilities to anyone other than you and himself." Kimberly was silent for a moment, mildly astonished at his perception, then she inclined her head austerely. "Every woman has a right to her fantasies."
    "And your particular fantasy is of a man who will need and want only you," Cavenaugh hazarded roughly. "A man whose loyalties