His smiling laugh turned serious. "Are you interested in the position?"

Her answer surprised him. "I don't think you could give me what I need."

"I'm quite skilled." He grew irritated with his answer. He sounded as if he was interviewing for the

position of her lover.

"I have no doubt you are," she a.s.sured him, her hand offering a comforting touch to his arm. "But I require more than I think you wish to give."

Her rejection annoyed him. Why, he did not know. He had no intentions of taking a lover. He was

looking for a lifemate. And she certainly didn't possess the skills or qualities he was searching for in a mate. She was actually the opposite of what he desired.

His irritation had him saying, "Perhaps you expect too much from a lover."

"No more than I would give myself," she answered softly and slowly moved her hand off his arm.

He felt her heart race along with his and sensed the tingle of desire ignite low in her stomach. His own

l.u.s.t grew and would be apparent if not for the dark night and the pale light of the half-moon. He felt a strange connection with her. Her breath was his, his heartbeat was hers, and one could not survive without the other.

An insane thought. He had connected on an emotionally intimate level with all his lovers, and that was what made him so skillful a lover. He could sense their desires and satisfy their every need. And while he sensed Sarina's desire, he also sensed a deeper emotional tug that connected him so strongly to her that he found it difficult to comprehend.

Disappointment filled her soft voice. "I am not whom you seek, Dagon, and you are not whom I need."

"You sound certain of this." He was irritated that she should dismiss him so easily. Did she not feel what he felt? The idea that he alone felt this intimate tug between them irritated him all the more. "Lately, I am not certain of anything." His tone took on that of lord of the castle. "If it is your position you fear losing, then I will calm your fears. I do not intend to dismiss you because of your inadequacies" Her own tone was that of a penitent servant. "Thank you, I will attempt to do better." He stood. "Your attempts only manage to get you into further trouble. I would suggest practice for one so young and inexperienced. And I suggest you return to your room and get a good night's sleep. You will need your energy for the new ch.o.r.es that will be a.s.signed to you." She had done nothing to warrant his testy att.i.tude and thought to tell him so, but she remembered a wise witch's words. In silence there is knowledge. She chose knowledge and remained silent.

He seemed disappointed by the lack of her response and turned to walk away.

Surprisingly, she shared his disappointment, and suddenly she didn't want him to leave. His name

anxiously escaped her lips. "Dagon."

He turned his bold blue eyes on her and waited silently.

She had called out to him to keep him near, but how was she to do that?

He took several steps toward her, and she watched his long legs move with grace and his body with

pride. There was arrogance in his stride, but there was also an integrity that could not be denied. And as he drew close she found herself speechless.

"What is it you want, Sarina?"

What did she want from him? The question troubled her for she could find no answer, though of late answers seemed to elude her.

He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from her eye. "Be truthful with yourself

and the answer will come."

Truth is what got her into her present situation, but still she could speak nothing less. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

He made a point of keeping his arms firmly to his sides, so great was the urge to reach out and wrap them around her. And he chose to offer encouragement when his thoughts wondered who would ever save her from her inept skills if she were allowed to go off on her own. "I expect you will do better."

Sarina nodded, unable to take her eyes off his brilliant blue ones. The intense color captivated, cautioned, and caressed. And at that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her.

Her desire was palpable and his pa.s.sion was raging. He warned himself to walk away, to turn and not look back, and he did. With a brief departing nod he turned and took several slow steps as if his legs refused to obey him or cautioned he was making a mistake.

He heard her sigh of regret. It sounded like a steeple bell clanging in his ears, though it was but a whisper on the night wind. And again he warned himself to walk away, to run if necessary, but his ego would not allow him a coward's retreat.

He turned back around and walked straight toward her.

Sarina's eyes widened, her heart beat rapidly, and her stomach fluttered in sensual chaos.

His arms wrapped around her, and his lips came down on hers in one sweeping move. Her response

equaled his. Her arms locked around his neck, and her lips settled on his with the same l.u.s.ty urgency.

And they were both lost. Their kiss was a mutual sharing of emotions, a bounding of kind that demanded acknowledgment. And they acknowledged it in a primal, natural way. They tasted, they sampled, they savored.

He didn't disappoint, he was as skillful as he claimed, perhaps more so, and she lost herself in the magic of the moment. She could go on tasting him all night, feeling the heat of him, aching with the need of him. Her arms tightened around his neck and his arms locked more securely around her waist, drawing her more firmly up against him. There was no denying his potent desire, and her tenacious clinging proved she was where she wanted to be.

Her sensuous sigh tickled his mouth, and his hungry groan sent goose b.u.mps rushing over her, and it was at that moment they both realized that they desired more than an erotic kiss. They broke apart and stepped away from each other. Sarina's fingers instantly flew up to touch her lips as though attempting to capture the memory of his kiss. His tongue traced his own lips, savoring her taste and committing their heated exchange to his memory. He then, without a word spoken, turned and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Five.

Bernard rarely smiled. That was why his wife looked so startled when he entered the kitchen shortly after breakfast. He was grinning from ear to ear and looked quite pleased with himself.

He approached Margaret with a bounce to his step and kissed her soundly. "A good day it is, Margaret!"

Margaret smiled, delighted her husband was in such a fine mood, even though the weather itself was foul, storm clouds having moved in with the dawn to deposit a steady flourish of rain. "If you say so, Bernard."

"Oh, but I do, I do," he insisted. "I am on my way to the study, a summons I have been waiting for and looking forward to. I think that His Lordship has finally come to his senses and intends to dismiss Sarina."

Margaret disagreed but did not wish to deflate her husband's good mood any sooner than necessary, though she felt the need to warn him. "Dagon has a kind heart. He may wish to give her another chance."

Bernard's smile vanished. "Don't be ridiculous."

Margaret shrugged. "Dagon does not judge people lightly."

"That I can agree with, but he is also no fool, and it would be foolish of him to retain her useless services."

"He may find something appropriate for her to do."

"Heaven forbid," Bernard said on a dramatic sigh. "I don't think there is a ch.o.r.e she can do without causing a problem."

"She is young and requires patience."

"I have had all the patience with her that I can stand," Bernard insisted. "My staff here at Rasmus Castle is skilled and efficient in their duties, and I will not have a novice ruin its reputation."

Margaret shook her head at her husband's stiff, retreating back.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Bernard said, his smile having returned and his demeanor pleasant upon entering Dagon's study.

"Yes," Dagon said, slipping several papers into a folder on his desk. "I have decided that Sarina would serve well on the first-floor staff primarily in the small receiving parlor. I don't think she could get into much trouble there or cause much damage."

Once again Bernard's smile vanished. "I disagree, sir."

Dagon expected resistance from Bernard and handled the man with patience. "I understand your reluctance to keep Sarina on the staff. But I think we should give her another chance." "I have given her more than sufficient chances, and she has repeatedly proved she is not skillful enough to handle her duties-any duties, for that matter."

"Still I feel the need to give her more time to prove herself or at least show improvement."

"We are not a teaching center, sir."

Dagon cast a sharp look on Bernard. "No, we are not, but we are witches, and witches see to the care and safety of other witches. I will not turn a clumsy witch out on her own."

Bernard realized he had spoken out of term and softened his tone. "I am sure I could find her an appropriate position elsewhere."

"I am sure you could," Dagon said, his irritation apparent in his intense blue eyes. "But I wish for Sarina to remain in my employment until I direct otherwise."

Bernard knew his place and kept his tongue. "As you wish, sir."

Dagon stood and walked from behind his desk. "I understand how she must have tried your patience, and I regret the disturbance she has caused at the castle, but my decision is final."

Bernard nodded. "Perhaps I should place some of the parlor antiques in storage for the next few days."

"I don't think that will be necessary."

"I will see to directing her to her duties," Bernard said and turned to leave.

"Bernard," Dagon called to him and he turned. " Perhaps you should see to the removal of the older antiques." Bernard nodded once again, and as he turned around to leave he smiled.

"You will dust every item in this room," Bernard instructed, handing Sarina a feather duster. "With fine-toned skills it would take little time to complete this ch.o.r.e, but since your skills need improving I intend to give you more than adequate time to finish."

"I appreciate your patience," Sarina said, nervously glancing around the room that held a variety of breakable and expensive items.

"Do not rush. I prefer the ch.o.r.e be done properly instead of inadequately."

"Yes, sir," Sarina said and stared at the collection of paperweights that graced the gla.s.s-top sofa table.

"Let me know of any problems," Bernard instructed.

She nodded and was finally left on her own.

She walked around the room carefully admiring the beautiful ceramic pieces that she was aware dated to the eighteenth century, and then there were the crystal bowls and the fragile lamps hand-painted with the most stunning pictorial scenes.

The furniture was a beautiful blend of soft velvet mauves with gentle greens and beiges. The colors worked well in the print of the plush sofa and the solid mauves on the Queen Anne style chairs enhanced the setting. It was a warm welcoming room that frightened Sarina.

Her hands trembled just thinking about touching one of the priceless items or knocking over one of the charming lamps or breaking a crystal vase that had survived more years than Dagon.

She sighed and stared at the duster in her hand. "If only my powers were as they should be, this room would be dusted in a flash, far faster than the witches on staff could possibly manage."

Procrastination was not something Sarina prescribed to, so she got right down to the matter, though with gentle hands and careful steps, and soon felt more at ease as she proceeded to succeed at her ch.o.r.e without a problem.

Her thoughts turned inward to her own home not far away. It was not large by any means though to her it was a castle and she missed its warmth and comfort. The last few months had been difficult. She had first attempted to solve her problem without leaving familiar surroundings, but as it grew obvious that approach would fail her, she made the decision to travel in hopes of finding a solution. So far she had not been successful, though she had enjoyed her travels, but now her journey was seeming endless and that was unacceptable.

What was also proving unacceptable was the feelings Dagon's kiss had stirred last night. When she returned to her room, she could think of nothing but Dagon and the way she had felt at home in his arms and the taste of his lips so sharp and tangy and full of pa.s.sion. She shivered at the memory.

While her sight worked well for others, it failed her and she could not turn to it when in a quandary. And she certainly was confused, and it didn't help that her powers had dwindled near to vanishing.

She felt on the verge of tears. She had never expected a spell to be cast on her. She had never harmed another witch, offering accurate guidance to those who sought her talent. Her mistake had been offering that guidance when it had not been asked.

Last night, in her fanciful dreams, she had thought perhaps it was Dagon whom she had been waiting for and who would provide the solution to her problem. But in the light of day she realized that her words of the previous evening rang true.

He was not whom she needed, and she was not whom he sought.

And he had not sought her out since last night, proving he felt the same as she did. The dark night, the sweet fragrance of the last blooming roses, and l.u.s.ty desires all added to temptation and were the reasons they had kissed.

Her mind so heavy in thought caused her to almost drop a delicate antique candy dish, and she sighed with relief when she finally righted it in her grasp.

"Are you all right?"

Dagon's unexpected voice startled her, especially since he had just been in her thoughts, and the fragile dish once again fumbled in her hands.