Rescued (Book One of the Silver Wood Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel Read Online Free

Temple Master, “ Michael finished for him. “If I take her in, he will have her tortured and then terminated. She is young and comely, so I have no doubt our inquisitor will take his time.”
    “In keeping with the Templar creed of never suffer a witch to live, but do have some fun with her first.” Troy muttered an obscenity in a dead language. “They are not worthy of you, Paladin.”
    The old nickname made Michael’s jaw tighten.
    “We’re not talking about me, Pagan. Can you provide the woman with refuge and instruction?”
    “Of course.” Troy sighed. “When and where can we meet?”
    “Midtown, in front of the Renaissance.” Michael hated going to Times Square, but no one from the North Abbey frequented it, and the heavy tourist foot traffic would provide cover. “Be there in two hours.”
    He switched off the mobile and considered hurling it across the room.
    Only the chime from the entry intercom made him pocket the device and go to attend to the food delivery.
    By the time he had set out the meal, he could hear the dryer in the utility room. Then Summer emerged from the hall. Her hair was wrapped in one of his white towels, and her body was swamped by his black robe. The combination of the two only served to highlight her delicate features. Her weeping had left her eyelids slightly pinkened and swollen, but her skin glowed and she smelled of lemon and castile soap.
    “Thank you for letting me use your shower,” she said politely as she approached the table. Her opal eyes widened when she saw the containers he’d set out. “Please tell me that you’ve invited over a small army to help eat this.”
    “I was not sure what you would enjoy.” He pulled out a chair for her and tried not to look down at the way his robe clung to her body. “There is a little of everything.”  
    She peered into one of the jumbo size containers.  
    “A little that could easily feed ten of me.” She sighed and smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Charbon. I haven’t had a proper meal in a long time.”
    “Please, call me Michael.” He retreated to his kitchen. “Do you drink wine?”
    “I’d rather have ice water, if you don’t mind.” He brought her a full glass. “I don’t want to drink on an empty stomach, plus I don’t remember if I like wine.”
    She was nervous, Michael realized, probably because he kept looming over her. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table and helped himself to some ziti and fruit while he watched her select a simple salad and some plain bread.
    “I don’t often dine at home,” he mentioned, hoping to put her at ease. “It’s always easier to pick up something while I’m out. I’m very fond of Japanese and Thai food.”
    She nodded and took a sip of her water. “How long have you lived in the city?”  
    Michael imagined telling her the truth and smiled a little.  
    “Longer than I care to admit. I hated it when I first came here––so many people living so close together seemed unnatural––but in time I came to appreciate the modern conveniences.”
    Her brows rose. “Where did you grow up? In the country?”
    “Near Paris, actually, but I spent much of my youth traveling in the Far East.”
    It was close enough to the truth.
    “You don’t have an accent.” Summer studied his face. “I would never have guessed you were French. You speak perfect English.”
    “You don’t have an accent either. That might be a clue.”
    Her eyebrows arched at his observation. Looking into her opal eyes, he felt as though he were falling. They made other hungers swell inside him, and he pushed aside his plate.
    “Why were you crying in the shower?”
    “I was thinking about what might have happened, if you hadn’t saved me.” Her gaze took on an over-bright shimmer, and she got up abruptly. “I should go and check on my clothes.”
    Michael was halfway out of his chair to follow her before he cursed himself. Whatever pagan powers she possessed, they were now