Joanne Rock - Summoned for Seduction

Was it her hunger, or could she suddenly smell roast duck and a rich glaze? Her grip on the door loosened, her gaze sweeping over the room’s dark corners in the hope of finding her mysterious host.

“I would prefer to eat here in case I do not like your company, sir.” Although, truth be told, she rather liked his voice. Warmth and confidence lurked in his tone. A vital man rather than a boy.

“Then you shall remain hungry, for you must retrieve it yourself from the middle of the room. For my part, I have promised myself I will not move from my perch unless you wish it. I think you’ll feel safest if you know where I am at all times.”

“Perch?” Her gaze moved upward. “Do you hang from the rafters then?”

She opened the door wider to admit an extra sliver of moonlight and a blast of wintry cold pelted her cheek with crystalline flakes of snow.

“I am not of a mind to be seen yet,” he barked in that oddly commanding whisper. The brew house’s round shape must help the sound to carry and surround her. “I pray you, be at ease and shut out the cold. I sit on a bag of milled grains and will not stir unless you wish it. You have my word.”

“If I asked you to come out into the light, would you do so?” She could not begin to imagine who had invited her here. Who sought her company and promised to remain at her command.

The scroll he’d given her suggested he wanted to speak to her before her marriage, hinting at an interest of the most intimate kind. Another shiver lit up her spine as she waited for a stirring.

“That I will not do.” The brew house remained silent save for his voice. “At least not yet.”

Another chilly gust blew through the door, sealing her gown to her legs. Unwilling to suffer the cold any longer, she allowed the door to close, blanketing them in the dark. Alone.

“Why?” she asked, lifting her skirts slightly and slipping out of her shoes so she might steal silently across the floor toward where the tray of food awaited her.

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