Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  Swallowing down my desire with a sigh, I dive out of bed. His face falls as I walk away with a giggle. I pad into the bathroom, looking back over my shoulder with a grin. “You did that all to yourself, sailor.”

  He pouts at me, showing off his puppy dog eyes.

  I laugh. “We haven’t got time.”

  Oliver groans. “Fine, I give up. I’m going to work, grumble, moan and all that. I’ll call you at lunchtime if I get a chance. But I’m not sure how busy I’m going to be.”

  I watch from the doorway whilst he pulls a black T-shirt over his hard, defined body, and I wonder idly if we could ‘make’ some time for our extra activity.

  “Have you met him yet?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe, continuing to look him over. I scrub my teeth, the toothpaste foaming between my words.

  “Who? The new owner? No, probably won’t—not for a while I reckon, anyway. You never do with jobs like this. There’s so much to do over there, Mia. I mean literally, acres and acres of landscaping. We’re going to be busy for a good few months.” He tugs up his blue jeans with a smile. I realise that he must have been worrying as much as I have over the lack of the recent work.

  “I don’t think anything has been done with those gardens for the last twenty years or so. Certainly not since that creepy old guy used to live there. What was his name? Mr Sam? Mr San? Or something like that. I wonder what happened to him,” he says with a shake of his head. “Anyway, I don’t have time to make small talk with silly little rich boys.” He uses his most patronising voice on me.

  Oliver grins and bends to tie his bootlaces, knowing that this will irritate me. He looks back up through his long lashes, his brown eyes, alert with playfulness whilst his unruly blonde hair falls over his forehead.

  “Ollie,” I scold. “You shouldn’t judge someone until you’ve met them. As you just said yourself, you haven’t, and most probably won’t. He could be a perfectly nice chap for all you know.” I rinse my toothbrush in the sink. “And, Mr San sold the land off and moved away—I think that was his name anyway,” I continue. “Probably because of people calling him creepy!” I laugh and look back into the bedroom.

  “Whatever, sweet cheeks. I’ve seen these types before. Big city boys think they can come down here for some quiet time. They flash their cash around, cause a bit of mischief, and then decide that it’s too boring and head back off to the big city again, leaving a trail of broken hearts in their wake.” Oliver stands up and comes towards me. The top button of his jeans remains undone.

  He notices my glance with a sly smile. “I’ve got to go. Like I said, I’ll try and give you a call later if I get a chance.” He strokes his finger across my bottom lip. “Are we still going out for dinner with your sister tonight?” He slips his hand into the back of my long black hair, his fingers brushing through the softness. He pulls my face up to meet his, and his eyes cloud with lust whilst he plants soft kisses along my jaw line. I moan. My stomach heats and flips under his touch.

  “Mmmmmm.”

  Pulling back, he looks into my face. “I love you so much. Shame I can’t interest you in anything.” I can hear the smugness in his voice, but I don’t care right now.

  His tongue darts over his soft lips. I groan as the warm feeling spreads to the apex of my thighs, leaving me trembling for him. He grins, his dimple pulling in, as he plants a passionate kiss on my mouth, pushing his body roughly against mine. His hips hold me in place against the doorframe. I am practically panting for him, ready to crumble and give in to his every demand, when he releases me.

  “Better go, babe.” He slaps my behind and strides off down the hallway with a smug grin and a chuckle buttoning up his jeans, leaving me overwhelmingly frustrated.

  I follow him down to the front door. “Touché, Mr Boss man,” I murmur. He picks up his jacket and shrugs it on, stretching it over his strong, broad shoulders, and grins at me. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you too, Ollie.”

  He looks into my face, cupping it with his hands like a delicate flower. “You’re so damn beautiful, sweet cheeks.”

  I flush under his praise. “Shut up!” A giggle escapes. “I’m far from beautiful, but I guess that’s all in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it.”

  “Well, this beholder thinks you’re gorgeous.” He smiles.

  I can’t help but smile back. “Well, I think the same of the beholder.”

  He sniggers and kisses me. I change the subject—I hate being the centre of attention. “Yes, we’re still going out tonight. Caitlyn is really looking forward to us meeting her new boyfriend, Will.”

  My half-sister Caitlyn finally seems serious over a man. Therefore, I am not about to miss the opportunity to meet the lucky guy. I lean in for another kiss, pushing myself against Oliver’s hard chest, my full breasts pressing against him.

  I don’t think I will ever tire of kissing this man.

  His hands move round to cup my buttocks and hoist me up onto my tiptoes.

  “Get a room!” Rachael—my best friend and annoying flatmate—looks up from the sofa with a scowl. Rachael is not a morning person, and she hates the whole romance thing.

  And she has the worst timing ever.

  Oliver leans over and plants another hard kiss on my mouth. “We have, but it’s so much more fun to ruin your Monday morning with some good, old-fashioned romance. I know how much you love that mushy stuff.” He grins and winks at me before turning to leave. “I love you, sweet cheeks.” He blows me a kiss and shuts the door behind him.

  “Love you, Ollie.” I shout after him.

  “Mumbo jumbo more like,” Rachael mutters, sinking back down on the sofa with a frown.

  *

  “Are you ready to go yet, Mia?” Rachael shouts down the hallway. “Seriously, stop primping yourself.”

  I can hear her still muttering something, but choose to ignore it. Once the caffeine hits home, she’ll be her happy-go-lucky self again.

  “Yep, I’m coming.” I slip my pumps on, grab my art satchel, and head down the hallway. I trip over some shoes outside Rachael’s door on the way and peer into her room. The curtains are still drawn and the bed unmade. “Damn it, Rachael. You need to sort your room out; it’s a mess. And I am not primping myself, thank you very much. It’s this damn hair.” I flick my long, dark waves away from my face.

  Rachael twists a short, dark lock of her pixie haircut between her fingers. “Chop it off then, and stop making me late.”

  Aaah yes, Rachael: total timekeeper. The polar opposite of me. I roll my eyes at her.

  “And there’s nothing wrong with my room. It’s arty and creative.”

  “It’s a mess, how can you say there’s nothing wrong with it? How do you even find anything in there?” I slip on my jacket

  “Whatever, Mum. Anyway,” she continues, “looks as if lover boy forgot his lunch.” She nods over to Oliver’s lunch sitting on the countertop. “He can grab something over there can’t he?” she asks, shoving some toast in her mouth.

  I shrug. “No. I doubt it anyway. There’s nothing over there but the house and the old servant’s quarters, and I can’t see him getting an invite for tea and crumpets can you.” I mentally kick myself.

  Now I’m making judgements before meeting someone; it must be catching.

  I drop my purse and phone in my satchel and pick up his lunch box. “I better take it to him.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “There’s no way that you’re going to get time today—not with the new brats starting at college, and all the staff meetings we have.” She shoves her feet into red trainers, which clash magnificently with her blue tights.

  “You are a sight to behold, my girl,” I laugh. Sometimes I think I should have been the history teacher, and she should have been the wacky art teacher.

  She looks down at herself with a grin. “What?”

  “Anyway, I’ve got some free time this morning between meetings. The professor spoke to me at last week’s staff meeting.
He wants me to start work on a painting for the new reception area.”

  I pick up my car keys, finally ready to go. “So I may need to go out and do a little, ahem, research,” I whisper to my now co-conspirator and grin.

  “Aaaah, so a little trip over to the Island isn’t going to do you any harm then, eh? See, I knew you had a naughty bone in you somewhere.” She smirks and slips a thick headband on her head on our way out of the apartment.

  She links her arm through mine and we continue down the hallway. “I heard that the guy moving in over there is a rich billionaire who’s running from the mob.” She laughs.

  I roll my eyes at her. People have been speculating for weeks over who the mysterious new owner is going to be. We haven’t had any new people move into our little town, for quite some time—certainly no one interesting or rich enough to purchase the mansion over on the Island.

  We make our way down in the elevator to the car park, only meeting, Mrs Dorset- the crazy old woman from number 45, along the way.

  I unlock the car before we reach it. “I’m driving,” Rachael says matter-of-factly and moves for the driver’s seat. “I can’t stand your driving Miss Daisy crap, Mia. Seriously, I don’t know how lover boy puts up with it.” She holds out her hand, waiting impatiently for the keys.

  “Fine,” I grumble and walk to the passenger side. “Will you stop calling him that?” I throw the keys over the roof to her and climb in. “And he basically just never lets me drive. Like anywhere—kind of like you, really!” I scowl.

  “That’s because your driving is terrible. And slow. Really, really slow. And no, I’m going to continue to call him that for as long as I know that it irritates him. You know how much I love to annoy him.” She grins wickedly at me.

  As we pull out of the underground garage, Rachael waits for a car to pass. It’s sleek and black—I’ve no idea what type it is, but damn it looks expensive. A man is sitting in the back, staring straight ahead, shouting into his phone. I have to admit, his profile looks hot, even with the frown that he wears.

  “Wooooo, mama!” Rachael whistles loudly out of her open window.

  “Rach, have you no shame?”

  She turns to look at me. “Are you serious? A gorgeous hunk of a man has just driven past us—scratch that: been driven past us by his chauffeur—in his very expensive and very posh-looking car. And I’m not even allowed to whistle at him!” Her voice rises in indignation.

  A laugh escapes my lips. “No, Rach—big shocker for you, but that’s classed as rude. And it’s embarrassing, not to mention that he might have heard you.”

  “Get a grip, Mia. He couldn’t have heard me.” She pulls out onto the road and continues driving. “Could he?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. I notice her keeping a watchful eye out for the black car as we drive, but I ignore her. I wonder if the man in the car is the new owner on the Island. It’s more than likely. No one around here would be able to afford such a luxurious car.

  My thoughts drift back to Oliver, and what he had said earlier about ‘silly little rich boys.’ Well, he had one thing right. He was clearly rich. However, that was no boy in the car. He was all man.

  *

  Mr Breckt.

  “What do you mean you haven’t filled the pantry yet?” I scowl out of the window, the streets passing by in a blur. I listen half-heartedly to the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “I’ll be there soon—I don’t want excuses. I want results. How hard can it be to fill a goddamn pantry?”

  The voice continues to mumble excuses at me.

  How has it come to this? How have I ended up in this drab little town?

  I scowl harder, pulling a hand through my hair.

  “Blah, blah, blah. These are all excuses, and I’ve heard them all before. I do not want you to think, I want you to do.”

  My eyes wash over a woman standing on the corner of the street, ready to cross. “Pull over!” I bark out to my driver. He looks nervously in the rearview mirror and pulls the car to the curb. My driver gets out and opens my door, and I slip my phone into my pocket without finishing the call. I step out on to the pavement in one fluid movement. The woman stands wide-eyed watching me, her mouth open in a silent ‘O’. It is hard not to stare at me, of course…I know that. I am tall, dark, and handsome…the typical cliché. Yet I am so much more than just that.

  I smile at her. “Hello, beautiful. Could I trouble you for a quick word?”

  Corny, and yet…

  The woman comes over to the car without faltering, smiling shyly at me, and I give her my most dazzling stare and sexy smile.

  …it works every time.

  “I am new in town, and need someone to show me around. Perhaps you would be free to assist me?” I reach up and pull my fingers through the long auburn locks around her face. She shivers at my touch, a blush rising in her cheeks.

  “I’m erm, well…I’m just on my way to work, actually.”

  I smile at her again, my eyes focusing in on hers. “Come on, beautiful. Show me around. Show me the sights. A beautiful woman like you must know some great places around here.” I lean in further, my shadow falling across her face, and she gulps loudly.

  I sigh, my body so close to hers that my breath washes over her.

  “Well, I guess I can just phone in sick or something.” She shrugs.

  I guide her to my car—ever the gentleman—helping her get in first, and then I let the driver shut the door behind me.

  “So, beautiful. What’s your name?”

  “Kate,” she giggles.

  “Well, beautiful Kate. My name is Robert Breckt.” My arm drapes over the tops’ of her shoulders and I pull my phone back out of my pocket.

  “I have one.” I look at her. “See, how hard was that? Now, I want to see the pantry full in the next forty-eight hours, or there is going to be hell to pay.” I snap the phone shut. The driver has turned on the tinted windows for my privacy and I look at the woman next to me. The excitement of meeting a handsome stranger is finally giving way to the faintest of fear. A frown puckers between her brown eyes.

  “Do not worry, beautiful Kate. I need to set things in order in my new home, and then you can show me all of the delights of this town.” I force a smile and she relaxes her shoulders.

  Typical, and boring. Just like all the rest.

  “Where do you live?” she asks, almost too quietly.

  I look away from her and watch the houses and shops that pass us by. “I have just moved to the Island.”

  Her heartbeat picks up when she realises her good fortune. Maybe she expects me to be her knight in shining armour, come to take her away from this drab town, and her boring job. She moves closer to me and I hear her inhale, breathing me in. She’s intoxicated by my presence.

  “So, what brings a man like you to a little town like this?”

  I sigh, but don’t answer.

  “Can’t be the entertainment.” She lets out another small giggle. “There’s nothing to do around here.”

  I glance behind me. She’s smiling expectantly. I hate gigglers.

  “There are some great views that I could show you, maybe?” She licks her lips—an attempt at seducing me, no doubt.

  I look at her with quiet boredom.

  The car starts over the bridge to the Island. It’s a straight run, with the sea underneath. The waves crash up against the shore, splashing over the rocks.

  Kate moves closer to me. She lifts a hand to my shoulder and strokes the seam of my suit.

  “I’m sure there’s so much more that you could show me, though.”

  I watch her lips moving but can’t hear her words. Her voice is like the irritating squeal of nails down a blackboard. The vein in her neck pulses wildly with each throb and pound of her heart. I flinch when her hand moves to the collar of my shirt, and then up to my neck.

  “Do not touch me, Kate.” My green eyes glow brighter, a tingle burning through them, and she cowers under the look. I grip her hand and pu
ll it away from me, keeping it trapped within my grasp. I lean in close to her. “I do not like to be touched.”

  My face is millimetres from hers and she breathes in my scent again, my allure running through her body. My mouth moves slowly to her neck, and I kiss it gently.

  “I want you to sit here nice and quiet for me, Kate. Can you do that?” She swallows and nods.

  “You are very pretty, but very irritating. As are all your kind.” I pull back and look at her face. Her pupils are dilated, the frown back between her eyes.

  “I was just trying to…”

  My hand grabs the side of her head and I feel the force of the window ricochet through my hand and up my arm as I slam her head into it. Her body goes lax, and I lay her down along the seat, resting her head upon my knee. The window hasn’t broken…reinforced glass saves the day again.

  I stroke the hair from her forehead. “Hush now, Kate.”

  Two

  Mia.

  I cross the bridge over to the Island, a warm sea breeze blowing in from my open window, and flicking my hair around my face. I sing along with the music on the radio unashamedly, out of tune but happy.

  I look for Oliver on my way up the long driveway. There are a lot of people about—more than I expected. People are working on everything. Movers, decorators, and builders dominate the circular driveway and front lawn with their hustle and bustle. Large glass windows look out over the entire front of the Island, making the building stand out against its natural surroundings. The effect of hundreds of years of updating and extensions, I guess.

  I pull up around the back of the house, near the unused stables, when I see Oliver’s car and climb out. The sun beats down as I raise my face to the sky with a smile and drink in the warmth of it. Its heated touch caresses my pale skin.

  “What are you doing here?” Oliver’s arms encircle my waist as he comes up behind me and breaks my reverie.

  “You forgot your lunch, dummy.” I giggle and he spins me round to face him.

  “Well that was fortunate for me, wasn’t it?” He leaves soft kisses upon my mouth with a smirk.