Blind Lust Read online

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  Blind Lust

  Annie Seaton

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  An imprint of

  Musa Publishing

  Copyright Information

  Blind Lust, Copyright © 2012 by Annie Seaton

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

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  Musa Publishing

  633 Edgewood Ave

  Lancaster, OH 43130

  www.musapublishing.com

  ...

  Published by Musa Publishing, June 2012

  ...

  This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

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  ISBN: 978-1-61937-258-0

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  Editor: Melinda Fulton

  Cover Design: Kelly Shorten

  Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna

  Warning

  This e-Book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your e-Books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.

  Dedication

  To my lifelong friends, Sharyn and Wendy…and to the memory of Helen,

  the inspiration for my culinary ghost.

  Chapter 1

  “A WAGER FOR YOU, my son.” Venus leaned back, closing her eyes as she slipped a dark purple grape into her mouth. “I have found a woman you cannot entice to love.”

  Cupid leaned back in the soft cloud and snickered. “You have purple juice on your breast, Mother.”

  “Damnation.” Venus leaned forward, long, bare legs dangling in the azure blue of the soft air, scrubbing at the damp spot on her soft, white gown.

  “Pray tell,” replied Cupid, his voice bored. “I could do with some entertainment.”

  Venus laughed. “A worthwhile wager, my lad. Ten days on a tropical island in human form, with the man or woman of your choosing if you bring this young woman to love.”

  Cupid plucked at the strings of his bow and did not look at his mother reclining on the soft misty cloud.

  “Mmm, how complete?” The young man with the cherubic face licked his lips as he thought of the reward.

  “All the way…vows must be pledged.” Venus smiled, languidly popping another fat grape in her mouth, taking care not to let the juice trickle past her lips.

  “Why such a good wager?” Cupid pointed his golden bow into the heavens, and sweet music tinkled through the clouds floating past them while his arrow soared upwards.

  “Because she is prudish, and it will be an impossible task for you.” A soft laugh followed the music into the clouds.

  “Mother, you underestimate my power. A little arrow in the neck, zing, and she will fall in love with the first man she sees.”

  “Follow me.” With a secret smile, Venus disappeared.

  “Here we go again,” sighed Cupid as he drifted through the clouds down to the human world.

  “Excuse me.” A languid voice interrupted Lizzy’s filing, and she swore under her breath as the pile of cards fell over the front of the high library desk. A warm flush rose from her neck to her face, and she cursed her fair skin. She stepped down from the high stool, and her elbow knocked a container of pens onto the floor, clattering in the quiet of the library when they joined the cards at the feet of two customers. Dropping her head down without looking at the owner of the bored voice, Lizzy attempted to conceal the blush spreading up from her neck, letting the strands of her silver blonde hair swing across her cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry. I will be with you in a moment.” She knelt to retrieve the square, white cards and pens that seem to have multiplied on their way to the floor. They were scattered around two pairs of shoes, a pair of white stilettos and a child-size pair of white sneakers. As she scrabbled around on the floor, the little boy spoke, his voice surprisingly cultured.

  “Really, Mother, this will be easy. Although…a librarian?”

  Lizzy’s gaze traveled up two sets of legs, one clad in white trousers and the other in white lace stockings. Two very amused expressions met her gaze, and her blush deepened when she realized the owner of the cultured voice was not a child but a little man. Fair-skinned and light-haired, they were both clothed completely in white. Lizzy could not take her eyes from the woman’s face; she was the most beautiful person she had ever seen.

  Realizing she was staring rudely, she closed her mouth and scurried around to the other side of her desk, schooling her face into a professional expression. She placed the cards in a neat pile, and then she carefully put the pens into their container while gathering her composure.

  “How can I help you?” She smiled at the strange couple waiting on the other side of the counter.

  “Where are your sex books?” The strange little man’s expression was bored; he may as well have been asking for cooking books.

  “Ah, that would depend on…er…exactly what you are looking for.” Lizzy was determined to remain unperturbed. She had not seen this couple in the library before, and although the occasional tourist used the library services, it was generally to research family history or the many ghosts in the old buildings in Silverton.

  She rattled off some Dewey decimal numbers, “Biology is at five hundred seventy-four over to your left, sex roles are at three zero five point three and sex psychology at one-fifty-five point three, over to…”

  “No, no, no.” The strange little man with the cultured voice spoke loudly and heads turned from every corner of the small building. “We want a book about sex.” He spelled it out as though she was simple. “S—E—X. Different positions and the like, perhaps you have a copy of the Kama Sutra?”

  Lizzy fought the blush creeping up her neck. Picking up a brochure from the desk, she fanned her hot cheeks. The little man gave a sly grin to the woman, who was observing the conversation with a strange smile on her face. Lizzy looked from one to the other. She was sure the little man had called the woman his mother, but she must have been mistaken. They appeared to be of a similar age.

  “In that case, you will need to go over to the right, to six hundred thirteen point nine.” She gestured to the side of the library housing the nonfiction books. “I will be closing for noon break in five minutes, but I will reopen at two o’clock if you would like to come back then and join the library.”

  “Would you get the book for me, now?” The little man persisted, arms folded across his chest.

  Feeling awkward and clumsy, Lizzy walked through the reference section, the couple following uncomfortably close behind her. She waved her hand at a mosquito buzzing past her head.

  “Ouch.” She slapped at her neck when it landed and bit her soft skin.

  Reaching the end of the nonfiction shelves, Lizzy retrieved the Kama Sutra from the top shelf and turned to the little man.

  They were gone.

  She stepped around the shelves looking across the foyer of the library; however, they were nowhere to be seen, which was most peculiar since she h
adn’t heard the door open. Absently scratching at her neck, Lizzy shrugged her shoulders and crossed to the door to turn the Closed for Lunch sign and usher the remaining customers out. She sighed when a tall, unshaven man pushed the door open, almost knocking her over.

  “I need a computer.”

  She was going to be late for lunch.

  Joshua Deegan ran his hand through his shaggy hair in frustration and glared at the dowdy librarian blocking his entry. He was at his wits’ end after three sleepless nights in an old farmhouse without air-conditioning or a wireless connection, and he was in a very bad mood. All he wanted was an internet connection. The librarian was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open. He returned her startled gaze, and a second appreciative glance confirmed she was not as dowdy as his first quick look suggested. It was the brown homespun cardigan and the plain skirt hiding the shapely body that had contributed to his first impression.

  Silver hair streamed past flawless skin, broken only by two spots of red, high on each sharply defined cheekbone. Her silver-gray eyes reminded him of those of the rabbit caught in the headlights in the rutted driveway of Aunt Helen’s farm when his car had bumped down through the potholes on Friday night. Freckles lightly dusted a long narrow nose and broke the perfection of her skin. Her lush, kissable lips were slightly open, and she continued to gape at him. She looked as though she would flee if he made a sudden move.

  “Yes,” he sighed, quite used to the effect he had on women. “I am Josh Deegan. Yes, you can have my autograph. I will even give you a signed copy of my latest CD…if you let me use a computer.”

  “Who?” The librarian hadn’t moved and still gaped at him, while the blush spread across her face and neck.

  “Josh Deegan, country and western singer.” It was bad enough he had come to the wilds of Fairfield County, Connecticut, to claim his inheritance. It was galling he had to spend the summer stuck in Aunt Helen’s rambling farmhouse, and now he had struck the village idiot in the Silverton County Library. All he wanted was an internet connection.

  When Aunt Helen’s attorney read the will and told him of his windfall, the relief was tremendous, despite the codicil that he had to live at the farm for three months. Music sales had slowed with the global financial crisis, and his creativity had dried up. He would sell the property and inject some cash into the business at the end of summer. He’d be damned if he’d let a ghost he didn’t even believe in wreck his chance of reviving his career. It was an ideal time to write a new album.

  “We’re closed for lunch.”

  Well, at least she could speak.

  “What?” Josh glared at her. “Look, Miss…?”

  “Sweet. Miss Lizzy Sweet,” she replied.

  “Miss Sweet, I really need the internet. It appears this library is the only connected place in the whole goddamned town, there is no wifi anywhere, and it will take me hours to drive out of this godforsaken valley to another town.” He could hear his voice rising along with his temper. She continued to stare at him, and Josh felt as though he was under a microscope.

  “We open at two o’clock; you are quite welcome to come in then and book a time on the computer.” Her hands gripped the side of the door, her knuckles white.

  “Book a time?”

  “Yes,” she replied quietly. “I believe there is a free spot just before five o’clock. I will book you if you still wish to use the computer, Mr. Deegan.”

  “Yes, please, that would be wonderful, Miss Sweet.” He did not hold back on the sarcasm. She nodded and turned the closed sign, and he stalked down the library steps.

  Chapter 2

  WESLEY WATCHED LIZZy RUN gracefully across the road, dodging the lunchtime traffic. She was looking particularly dowdy today. He grinned at her attempt to camouflage her shapely body in what appeared to be a brown sack. Old Mr. McGinty tooted his horn when he drove sedately past the town square. Lizzy waited on the curb for the old man to reverse the farm truck into a parking space, bumping vehicles front and back in the process. Wesley shook his head and waited for her while she helped the old man and his wife down out of the high cab of the truck.

  “Honestly, Lizzy, how many old folk are on your daily help list?”

  Lizzy ignored his gentle ribbing and slid onto the wooden bench beside her best friend and local warlock, Wesley Gordon. He leaned in, inhaling the citrus fragrance of her silver hair, and lightly kissed her cheek. When his lips slid close to her mouth, she bumped him away with her shoulder, frowning at him. Wesley reached over and pulled at her cardigan.

  “Have you been shopping at the thrift store again?” Pushing his hand away, she ignored his comment.

  “If you gave a bit back to the local folk, I wouldn’t be constantly bailing you out of trouble, young man.” Lizzy opened the lunch bag and handed him a sandwich wrapped in old-fashioned greased paper.

  “Yum, lamb and mint jelly on pita bread. Thank you, Mrs. MacPherson.” Wesley licked his lips.

  The silence was companionable, and Wesley reached for another sandwich while Lizzy sipped the brewed coffee he bought for her lunch each day.

  “You’re quiet today, Liz. Everything okay in your world?” Wesley’s other hand landed on her knee and crept along her thigh. Wesley had fallen in love with Lizzy the instant he moved to the valley, delighted to find another of his kind in the quaint little town. Lizzy spent her time saving him from a variety of scrapes, unbelieving of the constant professions of his love for her. Lizzy laughed, removing his hand from her leg.

  “Just a peculiar morning, Wes. It’s left me feeling a bit strange.”

  She scratched at her neck. Wesley’s protective instinct kicked in. “If somebody has upset you—”

  Lizzy interrupted him before he could get going. She always spoiled his fun; his lack of success with simple spells was a source of great amusement to her.

  “I met a man,” she said softly.

  “What sort of man?” His stomach dropped. Lizzy looked at him, a faraway dreamy look in her eyes. Now he really started to worry; he had never seen that look on her face before. In fact, he had been trying to get her to look at him like that for a very long time.

  Wesley had been in love with Lizzy for many years, and his love remained unrequited. He had vowed to himself that he would not give up. He knew in his heart that Lizzy did really love him; she just had to realize that. Or that’s what he told himself each day. They had plenty of time. He was the only man who knew of her Wiccan world and why she could never fall in love with a mortal man.

  Lizzy was old.

  Really old.

  Over three hundred years old.

  A survivor of the Salem witch trials in 1692, Lizzy carried a curse from those terrible days. The witches had burned, silhouetted against the black sky, orange smoke swirling from the pyre. An old crone, angry at being found guilty, had screamed a terrible curse at the young witches hiding in the crowd.

  “I deny you love. If you take the love of a mortal man for life, you will fall from immortality.”

  Over three hundred years later, Lizzy was the only witch still alone and unmarried. Some of the other young witches in the crowd had chosen love with a mortal man over immortality; others had married warlocks. She kept in touch with the women of her family; her mother and sisters were scattered across the world, comfortably settled with warlocks of their choice, living normal lives. Or as normal a life as witches and warlocks could live in a mortal world. Lizzy was the exception, never feeling the need to settle down with one man.

  She abided by the Rede, the rule of conduct that said a witch may engage in any action, as long as it is carefully considered and harms no person, including themselves. Lizzy also tried to get Wesley to follow the Rede, with no success.

  “You’re no fun, Lizzy; life is all about fun and good times,” he’d complained each time she chastised him for breaking the code when he first moved to Silverton.

  Over the centuries, her adherence to the Threefold Law ensured each of her actions came
back to her threefold. Wesley knew Lizzy lived a good life, assisting many with her kind words and actions, living happily, if alone, in her little cottage on the edge of Silverton Valley. Over the years, she’d occasionally worked a job for interest but mostly sold her herbs and potions at country markets, along with a bit of ghost hunting. Wesley tagged along and tried to make himself a vital part of her existence. She enjoyed his company, and he was her best friend, he had no doubt of that. Why now, in the twenty-first century, did a mortal man draw her attention for the first time? He watched as she rubbed at her neck.

  “It’s almost as though I have been charmed.” Turning to Wesley, she narrowed her eyes and regarded him suspiciously. “You haven’t done anything foolish, have you?”

  He put his hands up innocently. “Like what?” He was most offended.

  “Spells and potions?”

  Wesley held up two manicured fingers. “Witch’s honor. I promised you, didn’t I?”

  Lizzy sighed, and Wesley felt guilty even though he hadn’t used his power to look into the future. In the early days when he first moved to Silverton, Lizzy had rescued him from many scrapes, most often caused by inappropriate sexual liaisons. Under her strict instruction, he avoided spells, now only dabbling occasionally in predestination at the county markets. He looked back at her, troubled by her sigh. It was out of character for her to be sad.

  “There really is something wrong, isn’t there, Lizzy? Let me look.”

  “No! You know how I feel about that.” Wesley’s true gift was the sight. Over the years, he had begged to look into their future, and Lizzy fought him ferociously. “What would be the point of living? We are immortal. Life would be pointless if we knew what lay ahead.”

  Lizzy finished her sandwich, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m okay, Wes. Promise me you won’t look?” He put his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  “I would die of loneliness here without you Lizzy. I won’t look. I promise.” He spoke softly and looked across the green grass to the ducks paddling in the millpond. “You know I do love you, don’t you?”