Free Seduce Me by Robyn DeHart

but later
     said it brought horrible death. I believe all these boxes have been the same box. Pandora’s box.”
    “You have certainly done your research. But did you intend to merely dazzle me with your extensive knowledge or does this
     conversation have a purpose?” he asked.
    She glared at him. “There is another theory that, frankly, I’ve never spent very much time on because, well, because it seemed
     ludicrous to me. But now I believe otherwise.”
    He didn’t point out how ludicrous all of this sounded to him. Instead, he waited for her to finish.
    She held her arm up to his face, and he pushed it back to see what she was trying to show him. With her other hand she shoved
     back the sleeve of her dress, only to have it fall back into place. “This is why we must make haste to my home.”
    “Because of an ill-fitting sleeve?”
    She looked down and made a growling sort of noise before switching arms. “No, this,” she said, pointing at the gold band encircling
     her right wrist.
    The same sort of band that Thatcher and Waters had pulled out of the box. So, she had opened the box herself.
    Sneaky little thing.
    “I really wish I’d paid closer attention to those writings, that I hadn’t judged them so hastily.” She swallowed visibly.
     “I need to put the pieces together and discover what we must do to get this infernal thing off my wrist.”
    “It won’t come off?” he asked.
    “No, I tried.” Once again she held her arm out to him.
    He tried to remove the band by slipping it off her hand, but that did not work. Then he tried to open the bracelet somehow,
     but there were no grooves or clasps to be found anywhere.
    “It does seem to be affixed quite securely,” he said.
    She looked up at him, her green eyes full of emotion. Apprehension, annoyance, anger. He wasn’t certain which, perhaps all.
     “Yes, I see that,” she said tartly. “There is more.”
    “More what?”
    “More to my story. The bracelets, as I’m assuming there are more inside the box, have engravings that identify them. At least
     this one does, so it stands to reason the others do as well.”
    “And?”
    “I have lust,” she said in a tight whisper.
    “I beg your pardon.”
    “
Lust!
On my wrist.”
    He fought the urge to laugh at her. That would settle nothing. He’d been in mummies’ tombs and pirates’ caves, all of which
     came with warnings of curses, and he’d come out unscathed. No, he did not believe in curses. But clearly Miss Worthington
     did. As did the men of Solomon’s. They were all a bunch of superstitious fools.
    “And what does all of this have to do with your house?”
    “I have books on the matter, and journal articles. Ones I haven’t even read because, as I mentioned, I thought this particular
     hypothesis imprudent.” Esme took a cleansing breath. “Perhaps I should contact my scholar friends, see what they make of the
     situation.” Then she shook her head as if arguing with herself. “No, that will never do; no reason to alert them to my foolishness.”
    His head was beginning to fog from trying to follow her circuitous logic. “Can we start at the beginning? Tell me about the
     theory of the bracelets,” he said.
    “Well, I can tell you all I know, but I admit it isn’t much.”
    “Tell me what you can.”
    She nodded. “There are those who believe that when the gods made the box and sent it with Pandora they cursed it, thus cursing
     her and any who opened it. Inside the box, they put disease, greed, hope and lust. Legend says that when Pandora opened the
     box she released all of the curses. Then she panicked and slammed the lid down, sealing hope inside. It was a cruel jest at
     the hands of the gods.”
    Mr. Nichols had mentioned believing the curses were contained in material items. “You mentioned something about an inscription,”
     he said.
    She held her hand out to him. “Here,” she said, pointing to the tiny engraved text.
    “What language is