The sorceress changed mood faster than an autumn sky. No sooner had Alasdair acknowledged the not-unpleasant feeling of having her nestled in his arms than she twisted and fought his grip like a wild thing.
“Put me down!” she demanded.
Only then did Alasdair realize his own foolhardiness. He had lost himself in Morgaine le Fee’s kiss! He was seven kinds of fool to be so careless with his own fate.
The enchantress did not need to repeat her request. Alasdair dumped her on her feet without ceremony and backed away. He wiped the taste of her kiss from his burning lips with the back of his hand and surveyed her warily.
What witchery had she cast over him?
Morgaine looked as distressed as Alasdair felt. Her cheeks were flushed in a most attractive way; her eyes were flashing; her hair was
