Fire Burn And Cauldron Bubble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins)

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Fire Burn And Cauldron Bubble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins) Page 18

by H. P. Mallory


  My leg started shaking as it does whenever I get nervous, and I slammed my hand down on top of my knee, forcing it to stop. How I hated the thought! And I wasn’t certain if I more hated the thought or the humility that accompanied it. I decided I shouldn’t be concerned with comparing myself to my best friend. It would only be natural that a man should find her sexually attractive. He’d have to be blind not to …

  “Christa, what is it you do?” Trent asked her with a simple smile, and my stomach fell.

  “I do all the accounting for Rand, our employer. And I’m a photographer.”

  “A photographer,” Trent said, his smile wide. “Wow, that’s impressive. I’d love to see your photos some time.”

  Something in my gut turned sour, and I felt the immediate need to retreat. “I … I need to go to the ladies room.” I stood as if a dog had just bitten me in the ass. Before anyone could respond, I rushed toward the back hall, showing myself into the restroom. I was elated to find it empty and leaned my hands on the sink, staring at myself in the mirror.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I was acting like a total imbecile.

  Taking a step back, I smoothed the invisible wrinkles in my brown miniskirt while I tried to get a firm grip on whatever sanity I had remaining. I faced my reflection again. My hair hung in loose waves about my face and even though I could recognize how pretty my reflection was, I didn’t feel it. I’ve never cared much about my looks, but at that moment, I would’ve sold my soul to be the most beautiful woman alive.

  If this was what dating did, I wanted no part of it. True, I hadn’t had much of a social life prior to becoming a witch, but now that it seemed other beings fancied me, I wondered if I were changing and not for the better.

  I needed a breath of fresh air to settle myself. Opening the door to the ladies’ room, I slipped around the corner into the hallway. I spied Trent and Christa leaning close, their faces alight with laughter. Resisting the urge to gag, I turned in the opposite direction and hurried down the hallway, praying for a door leading outside.

  My prayers were answered in the form of a black door covered in scuffmarks that simply said “exit.” Pushing the door open, I collapsed onto a bench overlooking the back of the restaurant. No sooner did my butt meet the wooden bench then a swarm of anxious thoughts battered my already flustered mind … So what if Trent preferred Christa to me, what did I care? It’d be better to find out sooner rather than later. Did I want to be with someone who was interested in my best friend anyway?

  Like a distraught landlord, I begged for the uncooperative tenants in my head to move out.

  “I’ve wanted to get you alone all evening,” Trent’s thick voice interrupted my ridiculous inner monologue, and I gasped in surprise. I turned around to face him and stood, wondering how long he’d been standing behind me.

  His arms went around my waist, and his lips touched my cheek. Thoughts of Christa disappeared, replaced with more intimate and unwholesome thoughts.

  “You’re not enjoying yourself?” I asked, my voice trembling. Hopefully Trent thought it due to the cold evening air and not the argument I was just having with myself.

  His lips continued their descent down my neck, and his breath burned my flesh. “I’m enjoying myself now.”

  I thought I’d melt in his presence. Wolves tend to run hotter than humans and his body felt as if it were on fire. When he kissed me, his lips burned against mine, and I relaxed into the heat of his body. His hands splayed through my hair as his tongue lapped at my own. When he pulled away from me, there was fever in his eyes.

  “God how I want you,” the beast within him groaned.

  “We still have a date to get back to,” I said, not able to meet his eyes and the desire that danced within them like devils before a fire.

  He chuckled and kissed me again. “What do you think about getting a place of your own?”

  “I was already contemplating it.”

  “Good. I can’t imagine Rand would welcome me with open arms.”

  I laughed. “You’re a good judge of character.”

  “You find yourself a nice little place to live and I’ll pay your rent,” he said and bounced his index finger on the end of my nose. If his statement wasn’t enough to make me sick, the show of his finger on my nose definitely was. What did he think I was—a kept woman? I forced my reaction down, imagining it wasn’t the way he intended it. At least, I hoped it wasn’t the way he meant it.

  “No thanks, but I appreciate the gesture.”

  He laughed. “You’re quite the independent woman.”

  Well, whatever I was—witch, newly jealous harpy … yes, I guess I was still every ounce the independent woman.

  ~

  Christa giggled as I opened the front door of Pelham Manor.

  “John was such a good kisser, and he was so hot … I mean literally.”

  I laughed and closed the door behind us, thinking I’d definitely had a good time on our date. Granted I’d had a bit of a mental breakdown, but I could honestly say I’d enjoyed myself … most of the time.

  “He was cute, didn’t you think so?” Christa asked as she started up the stairs to her bedroom.

  “Yeah, really cute,” I answered and headed up the stairs behind her, stifling a yawn. It was dark in the house, and I had no idea what time it was, but I was definitely tired and looking forward to my soft bed.

  “Jolie, can I speak with you for a minute?” Grabbing hold of the banister, I turned to see Rand standing in the hallway. I glanced up at Christa who just gave me a small smile and disappeared into her room. Facing Rand again, I gave him a quick nod and started down the stairs.

  When I reached the ground floor, Rand turned on his heel and headed down the long hallway into the kitchen. Left with no option, I followed him.

  The lights in the kitchen came on as Rand stepped over the threshold. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine.

  “I have another job I want you to consider,” he started. He held up the bottle of wine in offer, and I gently shook my head.

  “Okay, what is it?” I took a seat on one of the barstools, throwing my purse atop the black granite counter top.

  He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms against his chest, looking like a model straight out of GQ.

  “Another pack, a larger one than Trent’s, wants us to bring back some of their members who were killed by Bella.”

  “Okay.” I could probably handle some more werewolves, if the last pack was anything to go on.

  “It might be a bit more difficult because it will be more than one wolf you’re bringing back.” He took a sip of his wine, and it left a slight moustache on his upper lip. He licked his lips, and I had to drop my gaze, lest I appear too interested.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  He nodded, something else obviously on his mind. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

  I sighed, knowing an argument was about to rear its ugly face. I knew his feelings toward Trent and I imagined he wouldn’t be at all happy to have the wolf frequenting Pelham Manor. Maybe he was kicking me out.

  “Yes, thanks for asking.”

  He hesitated, his jaw clenched, and he put the glass of wine down. He came closer to me and my breath froze in my throat as I awaited the words. He leaned his elbows against the counter of the bar, and I straightened my posture, not wanting to be so close to him.

  “I wanted to apologize for getting involved with your personal matters. I should never have done so.”

  I was surprised to say the least, imagining I was about to be read my rights. “Oh, thanks,” I said dumbly.

  He eyed me up and down until I felt as if I were withering in his insistent gaze. “You look lovely.”

  Okay, what the hell was wrong with Rand? I was better prepared for the arrogant, angry, and stubborn warlock I was used to.

  “Thanks … are you feeling alright?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine.”

&nb
sp; I didn’t know what else to say. It definitely seemed like something was up with him … he had that look of someone who had lots to say, but didn’t quite know where to start. I wished he’d get on with it, so I could go to sleep. Glancing at the clock above the stove, I noted it was already 2:00 a.m. Way past my bedtime.

  “You’ve changed quite a bit since being here,” he said softly.

  “Is that your first drink of the night?”

  He laughed that same innocent, I don’t know what you’re talking about laugh. “Yes, it’s my first of the night.”

  I shook my head, but smiled and decided to play his game. “Okay, how have I changed?”

  He smirked and leaned farther across the counter, crossing his ankles behind him. “Look at you. Wearing a tiny skirt and a tight pink sweater. Showing off your breasts and legs.”

  My mouth dropped open. “I’m not showing off my boobs and legs!”

  He chuckled again. “Come now, Jolie, look how much leg your showing and I bet I could guess your bust size just by looking.”

  I feigned offense and dropped off the bar stool, grabbing my purse. “Well, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing for a woman to be confident …” I started.

  He quirked his brows and a smile pulled at his lips. He sipped his wine again. “I’m not saying it’s bad. You’re beautiful—so are your legs … and your breasts.”

  I swallowed against the desire that threatened to make me a stumbling idiot and tried to hold his gaze. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

  He saluted me with the glass of wine and that was when I realized I needed to see my thoughts about moving out to fruition. I couldn’t live with Rand anymore. I just couldn’t handle it. “I … I wanted to tell you I think I’m going to move out.”

  He pushed away from the counter and put the glass down so violently, it sloshed onto the counter. “Move out?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes, I think it’d be for the better. I don’t want to overstep your generosity and kindness in having me here, but I feel as if I can’t come and go as I please.”

  He clasped the back of his head with interwoven fingers and walked four paces forward only to turn around and walk four paces back. Clearly, Rand had a difficult time saying what was on his mind.

  “I don’t want you to move, Jolie; it will be too hard to ensure you’re safe.”

  I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as I watched him pace the kitchen. He looked like an ad for a new fridge or something: is your current refrigerator getting you down? I shook thoughts of Rand and his commercial right out of my head.

  “I won’t move far—maybe a small place in the village. Not more than ten minutes.”

  Rand frowned and stopped walking, his attention centered on me. “Ten minutes could mean life and death.” He started pacing again. “Couldn’t you be comfortable here? I won’t interfere in your personal life again. You have my word.”

  I shook my head. “I think I need my own space, Rand.”

  He sighed and collapsed against the counter. He strummed his fingers along the granite as if he were playing every chord of my guilt. I couldn’t feel bad about my decision though. If I were to have any sort of dating life, Trent aside, I couldn’t have it while living underneath Rand’s roof. And I was determined not to remain a spinster forever; I needed to make up for lost time. I needed to get Rand off my mind.

  “There’s a small house on the property here that served as the butler’s quarters when the house was built. It has a separate entrance, and I believe you’d be happy there. It would be a compromise because I’d feel more secure knowing you were closer than the village.”

  “I’ll consider it. Can I see it tomorrow?”

  “No one has occupied it for over forty years and it’s currently being used as a shed so it’ll need a bit of repair, but it’s yours if you want it, free of rent.”

  I smiled and watched him remember the wine spill as he pulled out a cloth and mopped it up. “Thank you, Rand, that’s very generous, but I’ll pay you something. You aren’t much of a business man, are you?” I asked with a grin, hoping to elevate his mood.

  His face remained serious. “Not where you’re concerned. It seems I have a bit of a soft spot for you.”

  My smile fell. If he had a soft spot for me, I had a gaping wound for him. “Let’s visit it tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’m a bit tired, so I think I’ll be on my way.” As if to prove my statement, I started for the hall. I didn’t need to turn around to know Rand was directly behind me. I faced him and his lips parted as though he was going to say something, but he stopped. And I realized I wanted him to say something. Anything. If he’d just admit his feelings, I’d stay in Pelham Manor, I’d forget Trent.

  He said nothing.

  “Goodnight, Rand.”

  “Jolie, I hope you know you can trust me?” It seemed an odd thing to say and I suppose my confusion showed on my face. He stepped closer to me, biting his lip.

  “If that wolf, Trent, ever hurts you, I hope you’ll come to me.”

  “I’m sure he won’t hurt me, but if he ever he does, I’ll come to you.”

  He smiled and with a nod, leaned back against the kitchen wall. I recognized my exit cue and took it, knowing he watched me all the while.

  ~

  Two weeks later and I had a new place to call my own. I couldn’t admit I was completely pleased with my decision—I’d miss being so close to Rand, seeing him every day, eating our meals together. And I was a little jealous that Christa was still his roommate. Not that I thought there would ever be anything between them—I knew Rand’s feelings toward Christa were merely platonic and she’d been happily dating John for a while now. But, still, there was definitely a part of me that would miss Pelham Manor.

  So now, I sat in my very own breakfast room complete with new furniture and a blazing fire in the hearth. Plum returned from the bedroom and crawled into my lap. I petted her in long, languorous strokes as I thought how easy it was to be a cat—what a wonderful and simple life they led. To worry about the occasional mouse interloping in your house, sleep whenever it pleased you, and never be concerned with warlocks.

  Oh, to be a cat.

  It was exactly one week since I’d last seen Trent. He’d been out of town on business, but was due back in a day or so. I couldn’t wait to see him. I’d missed him, which was strange, because I hadn’t thought myself so emotionally attached—something that was exciting but also scared the bejeezus out of me.

  The rain had been threatening all day and now it began in earnest, pattering against my slate roof like diamonds falling out of the sky. I curled up on my new sofa and opened a romance novel I’d been meaning to start for a few weeks. I didn’t get through page one before a knock sounded on the door.

  I shooed the cat from my lap and wondered who would be calling in the pouring rain. Upon opening the front door, Trent smiled down at me, his white shirt wet and clinging to his muscled chest, his dark hair plastered to his head. My gaze moved down the length of him to the bouquet of roses in his hand. They were soaked too.

  “Special delivery for Jolie Wilkins,” he said in a cartoon voice and held up the bouquet. I accepted it and opened the door for him. Once inside, he took hold of me and spun me around, his lips imprisoning mine as soon as my feet touched the ground.

  “I missed you,” he groaned in my ear.

  “I missed you too.” The truth of it was that I’d counted the hours until his return and had found little diversion in anything else.

  “I wanted to take you out tonight,” he said with a smile. “Shall we go?”

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, thinking I was still in my loungewear and wouldn’t mind applying a dab of makeup or two.

  He shrugged and the grin on his face deepened. I guess this one was going to be a surprise.

  “Get your coat. I’ll start the car and get the seats warm for you.” I watched him turn and head back toward his red Audi.

  Figuring I didn
’t have any time to change, I eyed my sweats with a sigh and grabbed my coat from the peg behind the door. Stepping outside, I locked the door behind me. I didn’t see Trent’s car, which was odd, as he’d just parked in the driveway. Covering my face to avoid the teardrops of the heavens, I started up the drive, wondering where he’d gone.

  A low growl vibrated through the night.

  My steps faltered, as I doubted whether I’d actually heard the growl. It could’ve been thunder. I turned at the sound of rustling leaves and saw a white wolf in the driveway.

  The wolf turned to face me, its hackles raised, the raindrops coursing down its mouth, looking like drool.

  I took a step back.

  “Trent!”

  The wolf came nearer.

  “Trent, are you out there!”

  The wolf pawed the ground and watched me, edging ever closer and closer. I could try to get back inside the house, but by the time I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door, I’d be wolf bait.

  My mind was such a mess, I couldn’t even think of a spell to use on him. I just kept my eyes on his and backed up slowly. The wolf, apparently growing impatient, lunged at me as I turned on my toes and ran as quickly as I could. My ballet flats combined with the puddles of rainwater made it exceptionally difficult to get any sort of traction and I nearly lost my balance a few times.

  As if I had eyes on the back of my head, I knew the wolf was nearly on my heels. Like a shard of glass straight through my brain, the memory of Trent telling me to whistle pierced my swollen thoughts. But the idea of trying to whistle while running as fast as I could was ridiculous not to mention impossible.

  All I could think of was panicking until a little voice in my head reminded me to use the help of the fox, my inner beast. I headed for the trees alongside my little house and with the wolf on my heels, I called to my beast. No sooner did the thought enter my head when that familiar feeling of lightness overtook me and I felt myself drop to the ground.

 

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