Mesmerized: Spellbound (Book One) Read Online Free

last century— like, as in, 1900. Seriously. There was no running water, no fridge, let alone a dishwasher and garbage disposal. The table was set for lunch.
    “ My parents built this house. I lived here all my life.”
    I help back my shock, “ Oh, what was that like?”
    “ It was hard, but we were happy. It was during the last days of the Cold War, and Communism. Back then, there was no private property. After the revolution, my parents left the country, and now it belongs to me.”
    “ You live, here…?”
    “ No, I have a flat in town. But I stay here sometimes. I maintain the building, the well, keep the electricity on.”
    We sat at the kitchen table, and he pulled a picnic lunch out of a basket on the counter. We ate bread and cured sausages with red wine. Sitting in that strange old-world kitchen made the dream-like quality of my experience expand. It couldn't be real. And this guy— his dreamy blue eyes bore into my soul. I could feel his gaze move across my body as he asked me about my summer plans.
    “ Do you have plans at home after your trip?”
    “ Not really. Stay with my folks, get a lame job, and wait to start grad school in the spring.”
    “ So, nothing urgent.”
    “ Not really, why?”
    “ No reason, just curious. Let me show you the estate.”
    He took my hand and guided me out of the cottage into the afternoon light. The day had cooled, and big putty clouds danced around the sun. We walked up the vineyard rows while he told me about the grapes they grew and where the original roots had come from. The hills rolled slightly up into a forest beyond the vineyard which expanded all the way down to the lake. This was a lot of land. Back in the states, land like this would be worth millions.
    He t old me about his ancestry. He was a cross of Ukrainian, Russian, and Romanian Gypsy. His gypsy grandmother had married his Ukrainian grandfather and settled this land back in the days of Stalin. She had brought the original root stalk from Romania before they were married. His voice was proud, but tinged with regret. 
    We stood in the fields as the sun began to tip toward the west. He turned to pick a ripe grape from a vine. “ These are table grapes,” he said. Light glared in my eyes as I regarded the curve of his back. He turned brushing dust from the ripe fruit and bit into it, smiled, and moved toward me. He held the grape in front of my eyes and gently moved it into my mouth. I accepted it, not thinking, entranced by the moment.
    It was warm and sweet; it tasted of mystery and strange, dark spices. Juice slid down my throat, and he offered me a second which I gladly accepted. The flavor was unlike anything I had ever experienced deep and rich, like the promise in his eyes. Then I remembered what I told myself I was going to do to him, and my knees nearly buckled.
    Then his arm was around my waist; he held me up from the swoon. I was embarrassed and tried to right myself. Maybe this whole seduction thing wasn't going to work out. I couldn't really imagine seducing him anyway. He was the type who had it his way.
    His face blocked the sun from my eyes, and light glowed around his dark hair like a halo. He moved into me, brought me tight into an embrace. His lips pressed against mine. The sensation was like a shock wave of desire that bubbled up from the deepest part of my body— a part of me I never knew existed. I couldn’t think; I didn’t care that I had no idea who he was, or where I was, or what was happening. All I cared for was that moment, and that dark surging desire that rose like an awakening beast from my most instinctive soul up into my brain.
    Grape j uice was still on his lips, rich and sweet, and he drew me into him— tongue darting into my mouth. I felt him rise, grand and hard between my legs. Moisture ran, dripping into my panties. I felt myself fading into blackness. I couldn’t breathe and almost fell. He held me tight in the embrace.
    I clung to him, but he gently