Free Captivated by Nora Roberts

her to see not only that Nash was white as a sheet, but alsothat his mouth had yet to close.
    “Better?” she asked sweetly.
    He sat on the cat. Luna howled her disapproval and stalked off, despite his muttered apology. “I think—”
    “You look like you could use a drink.” On a roll now, Morgana held out a hand. A decanter hopped off a table five feet away and landed on her palm. “Brandy?”
    “No.” He let out a deep breath. “Thanks.”
    “I believe I will.” She snapped her fingers. A snifter drifted over and hung suspended in midair while she poured. It was showing off, she knew, but it was immensely satisfying. “Sure you don’t want some?”
    “Yeah.”
    With a shrug, she sent the decanter back. Glass clinked lightly against wood as it landed. “Now,” she said, curling on the couch beside him. “Where were we?”
    Hallucination, he thought. Hypnosis. He opened his mouth, but all he could manage was a stutter. Morgana was still smiling that sleek cat smile at him. Special effects. It was suddenly so clear, he laughed at his own stupidity.
    “Gotta be a wire,” he said, and rose to look for himself. “Hell of a trick, babe. Absolutely first-rate. You had me for a minute.”
    “Did I really?” she murmured.
    “I hired some of the F/X guys to help me with this party last year. You should have seen some of the stuff we pulled off.”
    He picked up the decanter, looking for trips and levers. All he found was old Irish crystal and smooth wood. With a shrug, he walked over to crouch in front of the fire. He suspected she’d had a small charge set under the wood, something she could set off with a small device in the palm of her hand. Inspired, he sprang up.
    “How about this? We bring this guy into town. He’s a scientist, and he falls for her, then drives himself crazy trying to explain everything she does. Make it logical.” His mind was leaping ahead. “Maybe he sneaks into one of her ceremonies. You ever been to one?”
    She’d exorcised the temper, and she found only humor in its place. “Naturally.”
    “Great. You can give me inside stuff. We could have him see her do something off-the-wall. Levitate. Or this fire bit was good. We could have this bonfire, and she lights it without a match. But he doesn’t know for sure if it’s a trick or real. Neither does the audience.”
    She let the brandy slide warm into her system. Temper tantrums were so exhausting. “What’s the point ofthe story?”
    “Besides some chills and thrills, I think it’s a matter of, can this guy, this regular guy, deal with the fact that he’s in love with a witch.”
    Suddenly sad, she stared into her glass. “You might ask yourself if a witch could deal with the fact that she’s in love with an ordinary man.”
    “That’s just what I need you for.” He sauntered over to drop down beside her. “Not only the witch’s angle, but the woman’s, too.” Comfortable again, he patted her knee. “Now, let’s talk about casting spells.”
    With a shake of her head, she set the drink aside and laughed. “All right, Nash. Let’s talk magic.”

Chapter 4
    He hadn’t been lonely. How could he have been, when he’d spent hours that day poring over books, enlivening his mind and his world with facts and fantasies? Since childhood, Nash had been content with his own company. What had once been a necessity to survive had become a way of life.
    The time he’d spent with his grandmother or his aunt, or his sporadic stays in foster homes, had taught him that he was much better off devising his own entertainment than looking to the adults in his life to devise some for him. More often than not, that entertainment had equaled chores, a lecture, solitary confinement, or—in his grandmother’s case—a swift backhand.
    Since he’d never been permitted an abundance of playthings or playmates, he’d turned his mind into a particularly fine toy.
    He’d often thought it had given him an advantage over