Annoyed, he moved past her to set the tea tray he’d carried up on the bedside table. “What have you thought of that I haven’t explained?”

“How can you explain what should be impossible?”

“What is, is,” he said simply. “I am a hereditary witch, descended from Finn of the Celts. What powers I have are my birthright.”

She had to accept that. She had seen, she had felt. She kept her shoulders straight and her voice even. “Did you use those powers on me, Liam?”

“You ask me not to touch your thoughts. Since I respect your wishes, try to be more specific in your questions.” Obviously irritated, he sat on the side of the bed and picked up a cup of tea.

“I was attracted to you, strongly and physically attracted to you, from the first minute. I behaved with you as I’ve never behaved with a man. I’ve just gone to bed with you and felt things …” She took a long, steadying breath as he watched her, as she saw a little gleam that had to be triumph light his eyes. “Did you put a spell on me to get me into bed?”

The gleam went dark, and triumph became fury so swiftly she stumbled back a step in instinctive defense. China cracked on wood as he slammed the cup down. From somewhere not so far away came the irritable grumble of thunder.

But he got to his feet slowly, like a wolf, she thought, stalking prey.

“Love spells, love potions?” He came toward her. She backed away. “I’m a witch, not a charlatan. I’m a man, not a cheat. Do you think I would abuse my gifts, shame my name, for sex?”

He made a dismissive gesture; the window shuddered and cracked, giving her a clue just how dangerous was his temper. “I didn’t ask for you, woman. Whatever part fate played in it, you came to this place, and to me, of your own will. And you’re free to go in the same manner.”

“How can you expect me not to wonder?” she shot back. “I’m just supposed to shrug and accept. Oh, Liam’s a witch. He can turn into a wolf and read my mind and blink us from one room to the next whenever he likes. Isn’t that handy?”

She whirled away from him, the throw flicking out around her bare legs. “I’m an educated woman who’s just been dropped headfirst into some kind of fairy tale. I’ll ask whatever questions I damn well please.”

“You appeal to me when you’re angry,” he murmured. “Why is that? I wonder.”