The Bewitching Twin Read online Donna Fletcher (Twin Series #2)

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Twin Series Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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“I cannot do this,” she cried and hurried out of the cottage.

Rogan did not follow. He plopped down on the bench, dropping his head into his hands and attempting to calm the passion that raged through him.

He throbbed with wanting her. He had not expected a desire that intense. A kiss had been his first thought, but then . . .

He stood and paced the room, passion flooding him like a rising river.

He wanted Aliss. He could taste his need for her. It was as strong as the salty taste of battle that had to be faced regardless of the outcome. He felt that now. No matter what the outcome of their joining, he had to have her, share with her, pleasure her.

His own body ached with need, crying for fulfillment. He had not expected this; never gave it thought. He wanted Aliss as he had not wanted a woman in a very long time—or perhaps he had never wanted one as vehemently as he did now.

The taste of Aliss was pungently sweet and hot, a stark contrast that intoxicated the senses and made him hunger for more.

Reality pierced him like a mighty sword and he stopped pacing. Her abduction was a means to an end, no more. He had never intended to hurt her. She was there to serve a purpose and when that purpose was done, she would return home.

He had no right to alter that plan. He had no right to allow his emotions to interfere. What must be done must be done. He had no choice, just as she had no choice but to wed.

He glanced down at his fisted hand, not realizing he had made a fist. He stared at it, felt the strength that ran through it and the force with which he could deliver a man unconscious.

The man who would kiss Aliss.

His knuckles whitened and his mind went wild with thought of any man other than himself kissing her. He would tear the man’s heart out with his bare hands and . . .

“Damn.” He pounded the table, but it did little good. He would have much preferred it to be a face, the face of the faceless man who would wed Aliss.

He ran his fingers through his hair and returned to pacing the floor. This was crazy. How had a simple kiss stirred such fierce jealousy in him? And why?

A rumbled growl surfaced slowly along with the urge to pummel something. He turned and left the cottage and headed straight for the woods.

The woods were quiet, the setting sun dappling the forest with its last precious rays of light. This was his sanctuary, his fortress of solitude, where he could bask in its healing peace.

Peace.

Peace of mind and heart. He would have that if he followed through with his plan.

But at what expense?

“You seek nature to heal your troubled mind and soul.”

Rogan turned, folding his arms across his chest. “You summoned Aliss to the woods.”

“An accusation?”

“You tell me, Giann.” Rogan challenged the prophetess, not caring whether it was a wise choice or not. His concern was to protect Aliss.

“Your plan to claim the Isle of Non is not as simple as you thought, my friend.”

He had to agree, though he refused to admit it. He held his ground, like a warrior prepared for battle. Giann had proven her powers time and again. She knew things of the past and foretold the future and she had never been wrong.

“So you warned me, and the answer to my query?” he demanded.

“I summoned her.”

He remained calm though inside he raged. It was pointless to argue with Giann, and besides, he knew that soon enough her presence would calm him completely. She had that effect on people. He wondered if it was her flawless beauty or her regal form drenched in the colors of the forest.

It mattered little. She held the power and thankfully she did not abuse it.

“Why?” His one word echoed through the forest like a thunderbolt.

She smiled and Rogan was reminded of a radiant star in the heavens.

“She needed reminding.”

“Of a prophecy you failed to mention to me?”

“To fulfill it is her duty. Her purpose. Her destiny.”

“So you tell me nothing of this monumental prophecy, merely that she will heal my people. You summon her and then render her unconscious?”

“You need not know of it, and she but napped.”

“Napped?” Rogan nearly shouted. “We could not revive her.”

“It was a deep sleep, which did her much good.”

“How?”

Giann smiled once again, and Rogan thought the sun had burst in front of him.

“You will see.”

He rubbed his eyes. He could barely see anything, and when he finally could, Giann was gone. She was like that, appearing unexpectedly and vanishing just as unexpectedly.

She had, however, left him feeling at peace. How? He could not explain it. His circumstances had not changed and yet he felt less concerned, as if the situation would resolve itself and he need not worry.



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