Read Online Sizzle All Day by Geralyn Dawson - Free Book Online Page A

so, that by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, he was feeling more than a shade dizzy.
    He felt real dizzy, in fact.
    Jake swayed on his feet. He saw two Mrs. Dunbars. Then four. Then none, because the light winked out.
    "Ma'am?"
    A low, keening groan sailed out of the darkness and swirled around him. Then a cackle, a witch's call.
    Jake shuddered at the sound.
    "Well, sir," came the disembodied voice from out of the darkness. "Welcome to my lair."
    "Who are you?" he gasped, his consciousness fading. Drugged. I've been drugged .
    This time the voice sounded feminine and amused. "Oh, I don't know, Texas. Why don't you call me Death."
    * * *
    Gillian watched him sway at the bottom of the stairs and wished she knew more about sleeping potions. Obviously, she'd given this man too much. He appeared about to drop.
    "Bide a wee, Delaney," she said, jumping forward to offer him her support. "You must make it down the corridor a bit, first." If he fell before reaching the bed she had readied for him earlier, she would have little prayer of moving him.
    And she did so wish to torture him.
    Gillian had questions that demanded answers. Why had the Texan searched Rowanclere's library? Was he truly a writer come to study Scottish castles? Or was he here for more nefarious purposes? Most important of all, was he in any way a threat to her family?
    Gillian intended to find out.
    With one arm wrapped around his waist, the other holding his arm which was draped around her shoulder, she guided him down the narrow passageway. With every step, she was forced to accept more and more of his weight. "You are a big lug," she muttered.
    His arm slipped off her shoulder, but settled around her waist. His hand landed on her stomach, dislodging her stuffing.
    "Wrong," he murmured, his voice slurred.
    She made no effort to reply, but kept all her energy focused on getting him to the bed in the chamber she had prepared.
    They made it. Just. He started his fall close enough to the bed that a good shove from her sent him sprawling across it. She wrestled with his legs, then yanked on his arms, and finally got him where she wanted him, more or less.
    He was snoring peacefully a few minutes later when she approached with the rope, and Gillian felt a prick of unease as she fixed first his hands, then his feet to the bedposts. She'd never done anything like this before in her life. In fact, the past few weeks had been filled with firsts for her. Lying, scheming, and trickery were foreign to her nature, although once she got started, she admitted to having a flair for it.
    Gillian stepped away from the bed and stared down at her captive in the flickering light of the torch. The man truly was magnificent. Relaxed in sleep, the masculine angles of his face softened just enough to give him a fallen angel's beauty. A lock of overly long, deep auburn hair spilled across his brow and tangled with the thick, curling lashes of his eyes. Gillian's fingers itched to reach out and brush it back, but she clenched them into a fist instead. What was it about this man she found so... haunting?
    Now there is an irony for you.
    But it was true. Since the moment he arrived at Rowanclere the Texan had seldom left her thoughts entirely. Was this guilt at work? Did thoughts of him plague her because she felt bad about using him to practice being a wraith?
    She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. No, that wasn't it. She did feel a twinge of shame, but it was easily dismissed. Causing a few moment's fright to this bonny, brawny man was nothing compared to seeing that Uncle Angus spent his declining years in peace.
    "Besides," she grumbled, "I don't believe I have caused him so much as a twitch of fear up until now."
    That, she told herself, was about to change. She wasn't a woman who indulged her temper often, but when she did, she made it count. His methodical search of Rowanclere's library proved he had more than castle architecture on his mind. In order