Witchcraft

blocking the door." Cavenaugh slowly lowered the hand holding the towel.
    "Why didn't you stay on the floor in the kitchen?"
    "Because the floor was damn cold!" she exploded. "And because I didn't know what you were doing outside. I was worried, Cavenaugh . I've had something of a shock this evening." He searched her face in the darkness, his own gaze brooding and watchful. "Pardon me, Cavenaugh , but you really are in the way." She put out a palm, flattened it boldly against his chest and shoved with all her strength. The situation was slipping out of control, and she was woman enough to know it. She might as well have been pushing against a granite wall for all the good it did. Realizing belatedly that the forceful approach wasn't going to have much effect, Kimberly hastily tried to pull back her hand. She didn't move quickly enough; he managed to snag her wrist. "You realize, of course, that what happened tonight clinches tomorrow's plans." He didn't move, just stood there chaining her wrist. "You're coming back to the estate with me in the morning." Kimberly swallowed, violently aware of his strength and the absolute certainty with which he spoke. Her need to rebel was more of an instinct than a reasoned act. After all, she had been literally terrified tonight. Staying alone here in this house was about the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. But giving in to Darius Cavenaugh seemed almost as dangerous. "I make my own decisions, Cavenaugh . Don't ever forget that," she asserted, lifting her chin defiantly. "I've been doing it a long time and I'm quite good at it."
    "From now on," he grated softly as he pulled her closer, "you're going to get used to having a little help in the decision-making department. I'm responsible for you because of what you did for Scott two months ago. I have every intention of carrying out my duty."
    "I'm sure you do. You're the kind of man who would always do what was expected of him, aren't you? And you're accustomed to being in charge of other people. But I don't expect you to protect me, Cavenaugh , and I most certainly don't intend to take orders from you. I'll handle this in my own way." She was trembling now and not just from anger. Cavenaugh was too close, too big, too overwhelming dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans. Her earlier fears of the robed figure holding the dagger were being swamped with a new and altogether different type of trepidation. "Don't be afraid of me, Kim," he said quietly. She narrowed her eyes, angry that he had perceived her new nervousness. "If you don't want to frighten me any more than I've already been frightened this evening, I suggest you release my hand," she ordered coolly. "I might be more willing to do that if I hadn't seen you running around in the firelight dressed in that skimpy little T-shirt," Cavenaugh told her in a husky voice as he dragged her half an inch closer. "And if I hadn't felt you lying half-naked under me Out there on the floor. And if I hadn't just gone hunting for that bastard with the knife." He tugged her another half inch toward him. "Or if I hadn't been wondering off and on for two months what it would be like to take you to bed-"
    "No!" But her protest was a breathless squeak of denial that held no real power. Mesmerized by the Sensual tension crackling in the air around them, she found herself crushed against his bare chest, her fingers splayed wildly on his shoulders. "Come here, witch," Cavenaugh growled softly as he lowered his head to find her mouth. "Let's find out just how strong your spells are." Kimberly had an impression of emeralds that gleamed with a thoroughly dangerous fire and then her own eyes closed beneath the impact of Cavenaugh's mouth.
    The kiss was not a gentle, tasting caress. Her lips were captured and parted; her inner warmth exploded with a hunger that astounded her. As his hands slid down her back, sensing the shape of her through the robe, Kimberly felt a tantalizing heat flare to life in her body. She had been honest with herself earlier this evening when she'd privately admitted the effect his politely controlled desire had on her. She would be less than honest with herself now if she tried to deny that Cavenaugh's unleashed passion was devastating. She heard the soft, feral groan deep in his throat and her pulse raced. His mouth was warm and marauding, unbelievably exciting. Kimberly cried out with stifled regret when he finally freed her lips. But almost immediately he was