Authors: Rachel Carrington
"She can't fall in love with a mortal,” Heart announced suddenly.
Both sisters stared at Heart. “Who said anything about falling in love?” Jazz began to wring her hands. “She's just met the mortal!"
Emmie considered Heart's comment. “But we both did see that spark. Not to mention the ... beginnings of the—um—other thing."
"Which I'm only too thankful I didn't see.” Heart shuddered.
"Well, regardless, there's something there, all right."
Jazz's nose wrinkled. “Perhaps that other thing was a spell.” She was on the receiving end of both her sisters’ stares. “Well,” she defended her position, “it has been a long time since Noelle has been—well—you know."
Heart clapped her hands over her ears. “I don't even want to hear any more of this."
"It doesn't matter. Ella could have done something, for all we know.” Emmie waved away any need for concern. “You can't trust that little vixen. She's next on my shit list."
Jazz clapped her hand against her mouth. “You shouldn't say words like that, Emmie. It's not becoming a lady."
Heart rolled her eyes. “We're not ladies. We're witches."
Emmie jogged the Book of Spells on her knees. “I just wish I could remember the last line of that damned spell. That's all we need. Think, sisters."
"It's no use,” Jazz said with a sad shake of her head. “I gave up thinking a long time ago."
Ella wasn't a happy witch. Trust Noelle to be thrust into the mortal world and still end up on the arm of a sexy male specimen.
She didn't think the aunts had managed to offer any type of assistance. She'd have been able to track any magic traversing between worlds, even though they were making preparations to drop down to Earth. She doubted they'd actually come; at least, she hoped they didn't. For now, she was just happy Heart hadn't changed the size of her breasts as she'd threatened.
Ella strolled across the plush carpet inside the hotel room. She'd always enjoyed these little trips to Earth, in spite of the coven's displeasure. Many times she'd asked Noelle to join her, but Noelle always followed the rules like some fucking Little Red Riding Hood.
But now, things were different. Here, Ella made the rules.
"Let's see you get yourself out of this, sweet cousin. Not even your beauty will help you escape this one."
If Noelle ended up finding more than just her way home, Ella would swear off witchcraft and become a celestial nun.
Noelle spun around in the centre of the large living room, her arms outstretched. For the first time since waking next to a dead man, she felt comfortable. She heard Jacob talking on the phone, but she didn't worry that he was calling the police. He'd taken her away to protect her, no matter what he said.
Closing her eyes, she quickly rid herself of the restrictive jeans and T-shirt, clothing herself in a long, flowing robe of pure silk. Much better.
She walked across the carpet, the long slit in the front of the ebony garment giving her plenty of freedom. She nearly sighed with bliss. Perhaps spending a few days on Earth wouldn't be so bad, after all.
The plush carpet comforted her aching feet as she made her way around the living area. She inspected pictures of what she assumed was Jacob's family and felt a gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach. He looked so happy there with his mother and father. She continued down the row until one particular photograph brought her up short—Jacob with his arm around a leggy brunette with a wide smile.
They looked deliriously happy. Noelle's brows lowered as she lifted the silver frame and brought it up closer to her face for further inspection.
"She's my sister.” Jacob spoke from over her left shoulder.
Noelle jumped, and with no small amount of guilt, clunked the frame back down onto the top of the entertainment centre. “Sorry. Didn't mean to pry.” She turned to face him.
"Sure you did."
If he thought he could embarrass her, he was in for a sad awakening. “I've always been rather nosy.” When he didn't respond, she cleared her throat. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her since he'd walked into the room, and now he stood several inches away from her, holding a steaming mug. “Why are you staring at me like that?"
"What in the hell are you wearing?” His voice sounded strangled.
"What I always wear. The other clothing didn't belong to me. I only wore it to fit in. I'm much more comfortable in this. It's so unrestricted.” She swept her arms out to demonstrate the freedom she now experienced.
Jacob gave a choked gasp and walked towards her, still holding the mug. “Yeah, well, I thought you might like some coffee."
Self-preservation instincts kicked in. “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"
He placed the cup down on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen. “There's a reward out for information leading to your arrest."
Horror settled into her bones. “What?” She scurried after him. “Are you serious?” She clasped one hand to her throat. “My aunts will be mortified."
Jacob raised his own mug to his lips, pausing before taking a sip. “I'd think you'd be more worried about your own hide."
Noelle scowled at him. She didn't particularly care for eternally nasty men, even if they did come wrapped in such an attractive package. “I'm not worried about my hide, because I will survive. Eventually, my cousin will see the error of her ways and reverse this damnable spell she has cast."
"And what makes you so sure she's cast a spell?” His lips curled around the rim of the cup, and Noelle found herself staring at him.
He made sipping coffee a sensual moment. Heat curled her toes, and she looked away. “Who else would put me in bed with a dead man?"
"Maybe he wasn't dead. Perhaps a night of vigorous sex killed him."
"That was an incredibly horrid thing to say.” And repulsive. She was sure Uncle Ed had been a perfectly nice man, but he certainly wasn't her type. Unlike his nephew.
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. Noelle noticed how it pulled his shirt tighter across his muscles. “You don't know me, Noelle. I could be a perpetually horrid person."
Oh, the many, many spells she could cast right now. Her temper climbed higher, and she counted to ten. Apparently, this man didn't know that a bad-tempered witch could be the epitome of nasty. “Are you trying to bait me?"
He sipped again. “Why not? Isn't that what you're trying to do to me?"
Sorting through her mental Rolodex, she came up blank. “What are you talking about? All I'm trying to do is find my way home."
"And the new get-up doesn't have anything to do with your desire to keep me off-guard, to seduce me?"
A red haze glazed her vision. His arrogance astounded her. “Seduce you? I would rather eat a kettle of Aunt Heart's toad stew—and let me tell you, she's one of my aunts who wasn't blessed with talent in the kitchen.” She marched forward and poked him squarely in the centre of his chest. “So, if you could push your ego out of the way, perhaps we could concentrate on finding a way out of this unpalatable mess. Because I can assure you that as much as you want me gone, I want to be gone.” Okay, it wasn't entirely the truth, but he didn't need to know that.
Jacob moved fast, and in an instant, he had her in his arms, his hand fisted in her hair. Noelle barely had time to gasp before his lips captured hers. Pleasant sensations buffeted her body. Actually, ‘pleasant’ was too mild of a word. Wild, rocking tingles moon-walked down her spine. Good Lord, the man could kiss.
Heat sliced through her, radiating from head to toe. His lips created carnal images in her brain, visions of tangled limbs, naked bodies, and whipped cream. She'd always had a fondness for sweetness and sex, though, more for the sweetness than the sex, especially with the male witches. Most were so arrogant they assumed a woman would have a good time simply by being with them. Noelle had always demanded more, and for that, she had been woefully inactive sexually for quite some time. But it felt like her luck was turning around.
His tongue licked the corners of her mouth, coaxing, teasing, until her lips parted. Coffee had never tasted so divine. Her knees weakened, bumped together.
Jettisoning her earlier protests, she pressed her body against his. Nipples tingled and peaked. Her pussy quivered, damp with the moisture of her excitement. And just when she was prepared to fling herself atop the dining room table with legs akimbo, the kiss ended. Abruptly.
Jacob had pushed her away.
"And what were you saying about not seducing me?” Picking up his coffee mug, he raised it in a mocking salute. “Here's to honesty."
The lesson had cost him dearly. His cock throbbed with each move he made, giving him a harsh reminder he'd suffered more than the witch. Though his words had tripped her trigger and sent her into a maelstrom of violent emotions, she'd calmed down quickly enough. Now, she'd taken up residence on his sofa, calmly flipping through a sports magazine. He doubted she had the first inkling of knowledge about any game, lest it was the game of seduction.
He blew out a loud breath and swept his hand through his hair while shooting a glance over his shoulder. The wench hadn't taken her eyes off the glossy pages.
"Christ."
"Did you say something, Mr. Sanders?” The sarcastic bite to her voice annoyed him further.
"No, I didn't.” But what he wanted to say was “I'm going to fuck you".As inappropriate as that might be with his uncle's funeral just around the corner. “But now that you asked, I have to get back to my family. They're very distraught right now, as you can imagine. Think you can stay here and keep out of trouble?"
Noelle slapped the magazine down atop the coffee table and pushed herself to her feet. Her breasts bobbed against the low-cut neckline of the silky confection she wore. “I didn't get myself into trouble to begin with. You might be surprised to discover that I'm actually a respectable adult. In Betony, I somehow manage to live a normal life unencumbered by dead bodies or middle-aged playboys with a penchant for self-persecution."
Middle-aged playboy? Jacob's blood boiled. “Self-persecution?” He took a threatening step towards her. What the hell...?
Noelle surprised him by favouring him with a sweet smile, but her words quickly belied the softness. “Unless I miss my guess, you do have a rather prominent erection. So it would appear you are the only one who got punished during your little mind game."
Jacob gave a low growl and contemplated strangling her. He wanted her out of his house. Out of his life. Not entirely accurate, but she didn't have to know that.
Snagging his keys from the pocket of his pants, he stormed towards the door. “Stay inside and keep out of sight. The last thing I need is for one of my neighbours to see you and call the police."
"Jacob, wait."
As he turned, he saw her standing by the edge of the sofa, and for a brief moment, he swore that was regret he saw on her face. “What is it now?” He wasn't about to take the bait.
"Look, I know we got off to a bad start, but could you ... would you just listen to my side of things?"
He folded his arms, but remained silent.
Noelle sank back down onto the sofa and curled her legs beneath her, giving Jacob another peek at golden limbs. He shifted uncomfortably, but leaned against the door frame, the picture of nonchalance.
"I know it's hard to believe, but I really don't know how I got here. I really didn't sleep with your uncle, and I certainly didn't kill him.” She ticked the points off on her fingers. “Oh, and I really am a witch.” Her shoulders hunched. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. Here I've been thinking about my situation and never even considered yours."
Jacob straightened.
What game is this?
He wasn't ready to relinquish his anger yet. The kernel of distrust continued to batter him. “What is it exactly that you're sorry for?"
"For your uncle's passing, for putting you in such an untenable situation, and for, well, causing you so much trouble. I seem to do that a lot with my aunts."
"Cause them trouble?” His interest was captured, and he found himself moving towards the sofa.
Her fingers curled around the hem of the robe. “Yeah.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Although I am a witch, I'm not really a very good one."
"I kind of got that impression when you couldn't raise my uncle.” He felt himself weakening. Of course, that could have had more to do with his proximity to Noelle than it did to just her words.
"Not too many witches can do that. I was just bluffing."
"Yeah, figured that out, too.” He sat down beside her, inhaling the fresh fragrance of her hair. His shoulder bumped against hers. “So why do you think this Ella put you in this situation?"
Noelle looked down at her hands. “I don't really know. She's always been a better witch than I am, so it's not like we're rivals."
Maybe not in magic, but perhaps in beauty?
“Why aren't you a good witch?” He couldn't believe he was actually talking about witchery with an actual witch. As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to believe her damn story, too.
She looked positively forlorn. “Because I just can't seem to get the damned spells right. As much as I try, I just screw up. I think it's because I'm not cut out to be a witch, but my aunts tell me it's not a choice. I was born a witch, and that's what I'll be until the day I die."
"Maybe you just haven't quite gotten the hang of it yet.” Jacob's need to comfort made him scoot closer to her. “It's not like you're old and grey. You have plenty of time."
"I'm seventy-two, and witches don't get old and grey."
Jacob was still reeling too much from the first half of her sentence to even take note of the second half. “What do you mean, you're seventy-two?"
Noelle peeked up at him. “I'm from a different sect of witches. My great-great-great-grandmother discovered an immortality spell, and since then, everyone in my lineage lives forever ... unless they want to go to the other side."
The other side?
It sounded like something out of a spooky Halloween movie. What was worse, Jacob was starting to believe it. Or maybe it was just that he was starting to see that Noelle wasn't the cause of his uncle's death, after all. But her age did lend more credence to his suspicions that they might have slept together.