Chapter Three

E mmaline gaped at the intruder while her chest tightened. How dare he break into her cottage! Knots of worry pulled in her stomach. Was he the true owner, though? Did that mean her newly found independence was at an end?

She tightened her grip on the stick she'd found while Mary left the cottage with wide eyes. There had been an authority, a command in this man's voice that could possibly mark him as a member of the beau monde , but as of yet, he hadn't identified himself. However, none of that was vital just now, for the more worrying aspect of this evening was the fact he had eaten half the plate of love spell cakes as well as helped himself to the tea she'd dried and jarred for her friend who wished to entice the major.

"Were you the one who ate those cakes?" This could be a rather large problem.

"I was." He watched her with eyes the color of strong coffee. There was a wicked gleam to them she didn't quite trust. "They were delicious, and since the rest are here in my cottage, I intend to gobble up them as well."

At least there was that. Originally, she'd thought there had been a ghost in the cottage. "I had wondered if the recipe was any good." Then she remembered he was a stranger, and she had no business talking with him. "Why did you send my maid away? You have no authority to do that." Having the maid and footman with her had been a condition of her mother in order to live on her own. She hadn't minded the company, but she'd truly wished to be left alone.

She hadn't had that her whole life.

"I am not at liberty to say." One of his dark brown eyebrows rose as if in challenge. "So that brings us back around to why you are in my cottage. And have apparently set up housekeeping. You don't belong here."

"I absolutely do, though." Slightly desperate to remain, Emmaline moved to the table. She deposited her basket of late-season herbs as well as her stick onto the surface with an eye to the remains of the tea the man had consumed. Would the love spell activate soon now that it was making its way through his system? "Can you not feel the welcome? To me, it is like a lovely hug from someone you love."

"As a matter of fact, I did feel such a thing." When he frowned, she couldn't stop looking at his mouth. How was it that those two pieces of flesh were so sensual and inviting?

"Oh?" Since she had the opportunity, she continued to peer at him, for he was an attractive sort of fellow in an understated way. Dark brown hair prone to curling, a sharp jaw covered with an evening shadow immediately put her in mind of a devil-may-care man who didn't necessarily abide by society's rules. Though he was dressed in the first stare of fashion, his cravat was loosened, and the buttons of his jacket undone. Had he thought to bed down here for the night? The thought of him beneath the same roof as her, in a state of dishabille, put heat into her cheeks. "You feel a belonging here, too?"

"Oddly, yes." Their gazes met, and she sucked in a breath. Outside, the wind blew up and rattled one of the windows. "Or rather, perhaps it's an attraction—to you." With another wicked twinkle in his eye, he edged around the table toward her, prompting Emmaline to retreat. "How about a kiss for me this All Hallow's Eve?"

That suggestion had the power to make her slightly weak at the knees. That a handsome stranger might want to steal one from her was something she'd always dreamed about, but it wasn't true in this case. "Stay back, you." Oh, dear. It was probably the love spell taking effect. She raised a hand and continued to retreat, matching him step by step around the table. I should have kept hold of the stick. But it was on the far side of the table near the man, and she couldn't get to it.

"Just one kiss, Miss Hasting. Where is the harm in that?" He continued to chase her around the table.

"Oh, there is plenty of harm in such a thing." For one, now that he'd put the idea into the air, it was all she could think about, and secondly, she had no idea who he was, and third, she'd never done anything remotely scandalous before. Usually, her sister Gigi was the one who did such things, but ever since she'd married two years before, there'd been no scandal to speak of with the Hasting sisters. "Who are you?"

The man paused in his pursuit, which gave her the opportunity to edge toward the front door that opened into the common room. Perhaps if she could escape, she could… what? Call for help in the face of a gathering storm? There was no one about and no one close enough. Depending on how long it would take her maid and footman to reach the manor, there shouldn't be rescue any time soon.

"My name is Christian Delamare." Then he waited with a look of expectation on his face. What in the world did he expect?

"Well, Mr. Delamare, I am not one of those women who goes around kissing every man I meet." In fact, the only kissing she'd done had been in her dreams, and even then, it was to an unnamed duke, the same one her sisters always teased her about meeting, some fictional man who would swoop into her life and carry her off to unknown places because he'd fallen madly in love with her. Still, her cheeks heated again, even more so when he took up the chase once more.

"Good thing I am not concerned with those men in your past then, hmm?" He was quite clever, and each time she tried to dart, he easily moved into her path. Finally, he caught her, and with the heavy oak door panel at her back and the hard wall of his chest against her front, she was well and truly trapped. "I am only concerned with the now."

Oh, dear!

Emmaline's heartbeat tripped into a rapid rhythm. "I had no idea the love spell would prove so powerful," she managed to whisper, but his close proximity sank into all her senses. The heat of him urged her to snuggle into his arms, and the clean fresh scent of him, like the woods in the midst of a snowy winter, had her knees wobbling. Coupled with the stubble clinging to his jaw and cheeks that she wanted to rub her palm against, she was ready to melt into a puddle at his feet.

"A love spell? What do you mean?" The frown that tugged at his mouth only made him more attractive.

"For the past few months, I have dabbled at being an apothecary…" She forced moisture into her suddenly dry throat with a hard swallow, for he hadn't moved away. "Or a witch in some circles, I suppose, and I've found I'm quite good at it. Somehow, I inherently know what people need to help them." Tiny golden flecks appeared in the deep brown of his irises. How fascinating. "In any event, one of my friends asked me to prepare a love spell she could give to a major she wishes would court her, and…"

"And you put this ‘recipe' in the cakes and tea I consumed," he finished for her while resting a palm on the door near her head.

"Yes." She nodded but kept her focus on his lips, ignoring his slight emphasis on the word recipe. "That is why you find me suddenly irresistible and wish to kiss me." However she'd done it, the spell had taken hold of him in a strong way. His eyes were overly bright, and the pupils enlarged, and his pulse had also accelerated; she could see it flutter in his neck. "Those cakes weren't meant for you, but in my defense, I didn't know you would force your way in here and eat them."

When he grinned, tiny flutters danced through her lower belly. She adored when the delicate skin at the corners of a man's eyes crinkled like that, and he had a slightly crooked tooth on his lower jaw that made him all the more endearing and approachable. "Neither did I know that someone would have already taken up residence in Ivy Cottage." As he spoke, he moved his head closer to hers. "And you, my dear, are quite pretty. That shade of blue compliments your eyes and skin."

Heat seeped into her cheeks. "I believe it's periwinkle," she said on a breathless whisper. This was the closest she had ever been to a man before, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. All the same, awareness rippled over her skin, making her feel as if she might pop right out of her body.

"It suits you." His breath warmed her cheeks.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Emmaline rested a palm on his chest, and was immediately made aware of how solid he was. "Thank you." The intense look in his eyes sent another round of flutters through her belly.

"You are quite welcome." With his voice equally soft, Mr. Delamare moved a hand to cup her cheek. He drew the pad of his thumb along her lower lip, and her chin trembled. "After traveling as much as I have, finding a delectable morsel like you to greet me when my days of wandering are done makes everything much better." Slowly but with determination, he claimed her lips with his in a fleeting kiss that made her entire soul shiver.

When he pulled slightly away but was still close enough that they shared breath, Emmaline glanced up at him. "That was… lovely." And the first kiss she'd ever received. The fact that it came from a stranger in the grips of a love spell wasn't lost on her, but she wouldn't be choosy.

"Yes, it was." Then he moved his hand from her cheek to her nape and pulled her closer to his body. He kissed her again, and the gesture was as non-threatening and gentle as the first had been, but when she rested her other palm on his chest and let her eyes flutter closed, he set out to explore.

Without demanding anything from her, Mr. Delamare licked the corners of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He moved his lips over hers as if wanting to discover all her secrets but was far too polite to inquire about them. A trace of sweetness lingered on his mouth—honey, perhaps, in the tea and the cakes—but it only enhanced that meeting. Tenderly, oh so tenderly, he left no millimeter of those two pieces of flesh unexplored, and as the kiss went on, she grew more and more inebriated on him and that kiss. He never pushed for more or asked for something she wasn't certain she could give. In fact, he was a gentleman throughout, with the exception of kissing her without permission.

And what was more, Emmaline enjoyed every aspect of that first embrace. Perhaps it was the magic in the air of All Hallow's Eve or something else entirely, but she didn't want it to end.

By the time he pulled away and held her at arm's length, she stared at him with shock and more than a little need, for he'd managed to awaken sensations deep inside her she hadn't known existed. In this man, she'd suddenly found something interesting and exciting, and she wanted nothing more than to pursue it even though such a thing was so frightening she also wished to run and hide.

He was like fire—fascinating but terrifying.

"Perhaps you and I should call a truce for the evening," he said, but the emotions in his dark eyes suggested something far more wicked than that.

"Oh? What does that mean?" It was much too scandalous to linger in this cottage with him alone, but she couldn't very well do anything else, especially if he truly did own the property. Outside, rain had begun to fall, and as the wind slanted the drops against the windows, she shivered. Not a night to be away from the cozy fire.

Or an equally cozy gentleman.

"Just this." Mr. Delamare pulled further away, and she immediately mourned the loss of his warmth, but she needn't have worried. He offered an outstretched hand. "Pass a couple of hours with me here. We'll talk and wait out the rain. Afterward, I shall escort you home, to your father's manor, I assume. I have a carriage…"

"Which you let the footman and maid take," she reminded him as she slipped her fingers into his palm.

"Hell's bells. So I did." But his grin was just as cheeky and charming as before. "Then we shall talk and enjoy tea for a bit. No use in deciding a course of action just yet." Then he winked, and awareness tripped through her veins. "It has been a while since I've spent such a delightful All Hallow's Eve."

Heat went through her cheeks again. In all honesty, there wasn't much else to do, and she refused to demand he leave. "I would like that." And God help her when her mother caught wind of this latest scandal from one of her daughters.