Free Dark Enchantment by Kathy Morgan Page B

had almost burned out. Stretching out his arm, a flick of his wrist brought about a loud whoosh, and a brilliant plume of red and orange flame shot skyward. As the blinding flare dissipated, the fire again burned hungrily, snapping and crackling as it consumed the remaining turf.
    Caleb turned his head slowly, deliberately, meeting Arianna’s startled stare with the full force of his entrancing gaze. The look conveyed a heady sense of carnality, sprinkled with a hint of some dark, mystical power. She knew he was daring her to say something about what she had just seen him do. Oh, boy. You are in soooo much trouble, girlfriend.
    Legs weak, she sank into the chair in front of the fireplace and motioned her head toward the flames. “Thanks.” I think.
    With a curt nod, he pulled on his jacket. His hand reached into the side pocket. “Your house key,” he said, dropping it lightly onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.
    The light tread of his boots marked his exit as he crossed the lightly polished floor. But in the foyer, he paused for a moment, then turned and retraced his steps.
    Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he slid out a business card. “My mobile number, should you need anything,” he announced without preamble. She reached for it, and traced her thumb idly over his name embossed on the card. “You know not another living soul here in Ireland, Arianna. It’s not safe. I still can’t fathom why you’ve come all alone—”
    “Caleb?”
    He stopped speaking.
    “Look, I get why you’d be ticked off at me, okay? But I want you to know that weirding out on somebody like that…well, it’s just not like me.” Arianna knew it was now or never. She closed her eyes and took a blind leap of faith. “There’s something else going on here that I don’t understand. From the moment I first saw you tonight I’ve been feeling like I’ve always known you…like there’s some…some fortuitous connection between us.”
    Her explanation drifted off as her eyes searched his for understanding, for some hint of recognition. But he only stared back at her, his face inscrutable, entirely devoid of expression.
    Disappointment welled up inside her, a malignant mass settling in her chest. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know you would never do anything to hurt me.”
    Caleb was silent and still as death, the flexing of jaw muscles the only sign that he found her words unsettling. But at her honest vow of trust, a pained look slid over his features. He reached out…started to stroke her hair, but then pulled his hand back as if he feared being burned.
    Or burning her, perhaps.
    “Don’t,” he ordered finally, his voice cracked and grim. “Don’t rely on that, Arianna. No, cailín, you need to be afraid of me. Be very, very afraid.”
    And with those cryptic words hanging in the air between them, he turned and left her. The sound of the front door closing behind him rang like a death knell in Arianna’s heart.

Chapter Seven
    A rianna awoke the next morning to a typical Irish winter day: Rainy, cold and dismal. Every muscle in her body ached and her head felt stuffed with cotton from jetlag. Punching her pillow into shape, she turned over and pulled the goose down duvet up over her ice-cold nose. Vignettes of the night before played through her head as she lay listening to the rat-a-tat-tat of the rain against the windows. Suddenly she remembered her promise to check in with Tara and Michaela the minute she got here. A promise she had forgotten what with all the craziness going on.
    Tossing back the bedclothes, she glanced at her travel clock. Still set on American time, it read five a.m. Swinging her feet onto the sumptuous piles of a Persian rug, Arianna grabbed her white terry bathrobe and rushed out the door. She hurried down to the kitchen where she had spotted an old rotary phone hanging on the wall the night before.
    She picked up the receiver and checked for a dial tone, then placed her