Magic of Three (6 page)

Read Magic of Three Online

Authors: Jenna Castille

 

Whoa
,
down
,
girl
.
Remember where you are
.

 

The disgruntled patron glared at the intruder, daring him to speak. “I don’t believe this has anything to do with you.”

 

The dark stranger shrugged, angular face remaining expressionless. “Maybe not, but I’ve been forced to listen to you gripe for the last half-hour nonstop. You invited every person here to be involved with your tirade.” Without glancing at Lisa, his attentions stayed focused on the other man. If not for the fact that her reaction was completely inappropriate, she’d say that fact made her feel jealous. Still he continued speaking to the other man. “These people have done everything they could to accommodate your requests, outrageous or otherwise. You’ve done nothing but make life miserable for them and everyone else sitting close enough to hear your incessant whining. If anything, you owe us an apology.”

 

At the man’s words the irate patron puffed up, stammering, and started to stand. Lisa stepped forward, intent on stopping things before the bashing, shoving and hitting started. She could stop this pompous little man. But if a physical fight started, no way would she be able to restrain her dark supporter. When it came to blows he had the look of a man who would strike first and strike hard and put his opponent down. She didn’t need any lawsuits or more property damage to top off her wonderful wreckage-filled day.

 

Before she could act another man stepped forward and placed a soothing, if firm, hand on the red-faced patron’s shoulder.

 

The hairs on Lisa’s arms stood on end. She felt—something. Something calming focused around this new man and pouring outward. Suddenly the patron’s tight, angry expression melted and calmed, turning peaceful. He dropped back down into his chair without a word, sipping on his mineral water and reaching for another baguette.

 

Lisa stared in amazement as the belligerent customer abandoned his complaints and started eating.
Un
-
fucking
-
believable
. She smiled up at the third man but her smile quickly faded. Her skin chilled then blazed as blood retreated then surged into her cheeks.

 

That golden halo of hair. That sin-filled smile. That hard, lithe body barely disguised by the well-made suit. Hormones pumped through her already charged body, her nipples peaking and her panties dampening. The mouthwatering pussy-drenching stripper from the night before grinned down at her, merriment and knowledge dancing in his eyes as they roved her conservative gray suit pants and white button-down blouse. Images of his nearly nude body writhing against her own echoed through her mind. Her mouth went from watering to sandy-desert dry.

 

Maybe he doesn

t recognize me
.
Please don

t let him recognize me
.

 

A devilish smile curved his pouty lips and he inclined his head with a conspiratorial wink. No such luck. Maybe a hole would open up and she could leap for it.

 

Best jump in and get things over with
.
Hopefully he

ll keep the meeting professional as well
.
I mean
,
this can

t be comfortable for him either
.

 

“Thank you, gentlemen, for your assistance. I think I have everything under control now.” She smiled and gestured to their empty table.

 

“I believe we’re being dismissed, Julian,” her blond tormentor said, eyes dancing.

 

Okay, playful she could handle. Playful hunk was a joy to handle compared to bitchy fat man. She gave a pointed glance at the two plates of barely touched food and half-filled wineglasses. “No, I’m simply implying that you might want to continue with your own meals.”

 

Tall, dark and handsome chuckled behind her, the rough sound rubbing and soothing her frazzled nerves. “You’re right, Tim. We’re definitely being dismissed. At least she does it pleasantly. Very nice manners.”

 

Her skin heated more under the men’s amused stares. Her face felt so hot she wondered if spontaneous combustion wasn’t just an urban legend. Still, she did appreciate their help. She couldn’t be rude, especially considering they were paying customers. She didn’t know how they’d done it but they had diffused the situation without yelling, bribery or violence. Somehow they’d calmed the other man down in a way she couldn’t.

 

She turned and ushered them to their empty seats. The two men shared a steamy look before following. Lisa gave a mental shake. So much for ogling. It looked like they were more interested in each other.

 

Oh
,
well
.
It always was the cute ones
.

 

“Let me offer you a dessert of your choice, with my compliments. It’s the least I can do.”

 

The dark-haired man, Julian, ran his eyes over her body. Her skin tightened under the close inspection. His face filled with desire as he met her gaze. “Thank you. I would love savoring your…dessert.”

 

This time Lisa knew she was blushing. Her read of the men could be completely off base, or they were bisexual. Either way she didn’t understand her own reactions to the men. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a customer hit on her. That was a freaking occupational hazard for anyone working service industry in this city. She never had trouble compartmentalizing her personal and business personas before. But with these two men she was acting like a blushing virgin on her wedding night, not a cool-headed divorcée who enjoyed all the pleasure sex had to offer on her own commitment-free terms. Scratch an itch and move on. Be friendly but nothing more. Absolutely no warm gushy feelings.

 

She met Julian’s lascivious smile with a cool, professional one of her own. “I’m certain you’d love our fruit and berry torte. It’s sweet but has a bit of a bite to it.”

 

“Just the way I like it,” Julian replied with a smirk, rising to her innuendo.

 

Then her golden stripper, Tim, confounded her. “Don’t I know it,” he muttered under his breath. He gave her a knowing look and a wink, almost conspiring, as though he was sharing a dark secret.

 

Okay
,
maybe I was right to begin with
.
That definitely sounded like a comment made by a lover
.
Talk about mixed signals
.
Enough flirting
.
This is getting a little weird
.
Strategic retreat
.

 

“I’ll tell your server. Whenever you’re ready let him know what you’d like.”

 

“I’d rather you took care of us,” Julian whispered low and seductively as he reached out and took her hand.

 

She stared down at their joined palms, shocked at how such a simple touch spun her senses. Her fingers tingled and a fine shiver played beneath her skin. His rough thumb glided across the sensitive flesh of her wrist. She cleared her throat, trying to pretend to be unaffected. “I don’t think that would be wise,” she heard herself respond as if from a distance. “I think you have enough people caring for you as it is.”

 

She gave Tim a pointed look. He batted his unfairly long and thick eyelashes in response, miming a quick kiss. Lisa didn’t know how to react. She settled on a light chuckle.

 

“A man can never have too many caring people in his life,” Julian answered, bringing her attention back to him.

 

Whoa
,
definitely retreat time
.

 

Lisa pulled her hand out of his grip and put some distance between them. Flirting at work was one thing. She was the boss and could trust herself not to cross any lines. But Julian’s eyes glowed with some emotion beyond a simple flirtation between strangers. She could see the arousal, the enticing heat. If given half a chance, this man wouldn’t have any qualms with throwing her down on the floor and fucking her raw, to hell with anyone else in the room.

 

The thought of inspiring that kind of voracity in any man filled her with a true sense of feminine power.

 

Damn, if it wasn’t for her own personal code of honor she’d take him up on it. She wasn’t above a good, long, hard, slamming screw. It kept life interesting. But not here. Never here. CM was her child and you didn’t fuck strangers in front of children. Not to mention what her employees would think. Had to be hell on morale.

 

She wiped her hand against her slacks, trying to erase the warmth of his hand’s caress. She felt marked somehow, surrounded by an undeniable magnetism emanating from his touch and Tim’s glance and grin. “Thank you again. It is nice to know that manners and chivalry aren’t entirely dead.”

 

For a moment she thought Julian or Tim would put up a fuss, starting a whole new scene. But they looked at each other, unspoken words passing between the two. Julian turned back, the fire in his eyes banked. “It was a pleasure meeting you as well. Had I known the owner of this fine establishment was so charming I would have come here much sooner.”

 

Not knowing what to say to that compliment, Lisa inclined her head and drew back. Quickly…but not running away. Not her.

 

Whew
.
What the hell else could happen today
?
That was a marked improvement but my goodness
.
How much weirdness could one woman be expected to take
?

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

Julian stared down at the clear, flawless crystal ball, willing his mind into the future. A trite technique. Overdone and incredibly clichéd. But sometimes the best option was the tried and true. Not that crystal gazing worked like it did in Hollywood B movies. Swirling smoke and hazy, mystical images didn’t twist, twine or gambol within a green, glowing sphere. No, it was more of a meditative device, a physical mantra. Something solid to help peel back layers of the invisible. Staring into the clear, bottomless depth helped him empty his mind. Helped him pull away from the present and look into the myriad futures with his inner eye.

 

He couldn’t see as far or as clearly this way as he did with his dreams. In his dreams time lost all meaning, all anchor. Past, present and future collided in a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions. But what he lost in power and clarity he gained in direction in his conscious state. He could guide his sight, control it, look for particular things.

 

An important skill for a private eye.

 

Not that his power hadn’t caused its own measure of difficulties and obstacles in his life. Nothing good ever comes without a cost.

 

A familiar voice, one that caught him at odd moments, echoed out of his personal past. Cold, controlled, steely anger. “First you tell your mother that you’re bisexual. I could overlook that. At least you could still settle down with a nice girl, have kids and get whatever other kicks you needed behind closed doors. But now you have the balls to tell me you’re a new-aged psychic con-artist? You expect me to do what? Support your delusions? You better be thankful you’ve already enlisted. Maybe the military can beat this rebellious crap out of you. I’m tired of trying. Have all your things gone in the morning. I don’t want to see your face.”

 

His father’s face stood out in stark, bloodless white. Not even anger could heat that appalled visage. It still amazed Julian that his father hadn’t completely disowned him that night.

 

The image flickered and snapped. Next the shriek of braking tires followed by the ripping sound of angry metal pulled Julian into the past once more. As in his first dream, the night it happened, he saw his mother’s terrified expression moments before jagged metal shot through her window, slicing through her skull. Instant death.

 

His father’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel, fighting to keep the car upright as the semi slammed into it, over it. A sharp snap sounded as his father’s head slammed into his mother’s then against his window, shattering the safety glass. His arms fell useless to his sides.

 

Julian watched as paramedics fought to keep his paralyzed father’s heart beating and lungs pumping as other workers zipped his mother into a long, gleaming black bag.

 

So the call from friends in New York hadn’t shocked him. The call from his father’s attorney had.

 

Guess Dad didn

t feel like leaving everything to the historical society or Mom

s green charity of the month after all
.
Either that or he thought he had another decade or two to straighten out his perverted
,
recalcitrant son before resorting to changing his will
.

 

Too bad the old man couldn

t see the future
.

 

Julian forced the past out of his mind, staring deeper into the crystal, shoving his way through layers, ribbons, strands. Lisa Harrington. He needed to concentrate on Lisa Harrington, needed information. He needed the now, the near future. After seeing her, being near her, wanting her, he had to know more about her. How should he approach her? What were her habits? Where would it be easiest to “run into” her? He couldn’t keep coming to her restaurant all the time. That smacked of stalker.

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