Hot Magic

by Catherine Kean

  Her pulse jumped against her ribs at all that he’d revealed in those two sentences. He’d enjoyed kissing her. He hadn’t found her kiss inadequate. “Lucian—”

  “Before you say another word, I’d like to tell you something.”

  “Okay….”

  “I don’t talk about this much.” He rested his knife and fork on the edge of his plate. “As I said earlier, I was a troublemaker at school. When I was twelve….” Anguish etched his features before he appeared to get his emotions under control.

  “You don’t have to tell me now,” she said gently.

  “I want you to know.” He sipped his coffee then carefully set the mug down. “A few months after my twelfth birthday, my parents died.”

  “Oh, Lucian—”

  “They were killed in a car accident in England.”

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing both parents at such a young age and at the same time.

  “My two younger brothers and I came to live with my grandfather. My siblings didn’t like Florida and went back to England to live with my uncle.” His mouth tilted at the corner. “I wanted to go with them, but my grandfather made me stay here.”

  She ate more of the delicious eggs. “Why?”

  Lucian shrugged. “He saw potential in me, I guess, even though the last thing I wanted to do was learn. I was so torn up inside….”

  “Did you go to counseling?”

  “I did a few sessions, but didn’t make much progress. I was too angry at the universe to want to talk about my feelings. My grandfather didn’t make me go back. Instead, he made me work at the store after school and on weekends.”

  Molly nibbled on more toast. “You probably learned a lot about the business that way.”

  “I did.” He chuckled. “Sometimes I got mad at him for insisting I come straight to the store after school, when my friends would go play football. One afternoon, in an act of rebellion, I didn’t go to the shop. I went down to the boardwalk and hung out there, but I was so emotionally messed up, I started sobbing. I thought about jumping into the water, even about letting myself drown, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and recognized one of the teachers from school.” Lucian met Molly’s gaze. “Your mom.”

  Molly’s breath caught in her throat. “What happened?”

  “She was on her way to her car after shopping at a boutique. She took one look at me, asked me to look after her purchase, and went to the ice cream shop. She returned with two gigantic waffle cones.”

  Molly laughed. “She loved ice cream.”

  “Strawberry was her favorite, I believe.”

  “Yes.” Molly’s eyes burned. During previous visits to the town, she’d had quite a few heart-to-heart talks with her mother over bowls of ice cream.

  “That day, your mom and I ate our cones and watched the seagulls and waves,” Lucian said. “She didn’t push me to talk, just sat quietly beside me, and after a while, I started feeling better. She hugged me before she left and told me I could talk to her anytime. Just knowing she cared…. It meant a lot.”

  Molly smiled, because it had likely meant a lot to her mother to be able to comfort someone in need.

  “She and I met at the boardwalk for ice cream five times,” Lucian continued. “When we talked, it was about easy things, like our favorite books and shows on TV. As the days passed, my awful turmoil became more bearable. I always knew, though, that if I needed a friend, I could count on your mom.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Molly murmured. “Did you continue to keep in touch with her?”

  Shaking his head, he picked up his fork. “A few weeks later, I left town.”

  “Did you go back to England?”

  “No. My grandfather ran out of patience with me. He enrolled me in a private training program.”

  “Oh.”

  “In Cat’s Paw Cove, I’d been skipping classes. I got into fights. I broke into his liquor cabinet and got very drunk.” Lucian’s expression sobered as he finished a mouthful of eggs. “I didn’t care about the antiques business, the store, or anything, really. I was out of control. Thankfully, my grandfather refused to let me ruin my life. He made a phone call and…I went to study with one of his associates.”

  “An antiques expert?” she asked.

  “An expert, yes. I guess I’d describe him as a mentor.”

  Judging by Lucian’s expression, the mentorship hadn’t been easy. But, the tough program must have been what he’d needed, since he’d pursued a career in antiques and was on good enough terms with his grandfather to share his apartment and be in charge of his shop.

  Lucian speared some bacon with his fork. “Back to your mother….” After eating the mouthful, he rose, the chair legs scraping back on the floor. “I can now show you what I intended to last night. If, of course, you’re still interested?”

  “I am.” Molly finished the last of her scrambled eggs while he fetched his laptop. He pushed aside the salt and paper and set the computer where they could both see. “Now, let me just find them…. Ah. Here.”

  He pulled up a picture of an old pocket watch and link chain. Lucian opened another image: a snuff box.

  “Why are you showing me these?” Molly asked, her curiosity growing.

  “Your mother brought them to the store for evaluation some years ago.” Lucian pulled up another photograph: six brass buttons that might have been cut off a garment. “My grandfather bought them from her. According to his notes, the items dated from the 1600s.”

  “Wow,” Molly murmured.

  “You mentioned before that your mother was researching your ancestors.”

  “Yes.” Molly’s pulse quickened. “These items could have belonged to my relative who arrived here on the Guinevere.”

  “Quite possibly,” Lucian said.

  “Did the items sell, or are they still in the store?”

  “My grandfather sold them. Unfortunately, he didn’t make a record of who purchased them.”

  She sighed. “That’s too bad.”

  “I can give you copies of the pictures, though, if you’d like them.”

  “I would. Thanks.” Molly grinned. “Maybe if I take the photos to a local fortune teller, she can tell me more about who owned the objects.”

  Misgiving touched Lucian’s features. “Molly.”

  He didn’t like the idea. Why not? Judging by what she recalled of their conversation at Devon Rex Desserts, he didn’t believe in the paranormal. He likely thought the visit would be a waste of time and money. “I’ve never been to a fortune teller before,” she said. “There are several in town. It might be fun.”

  “You’d trust what a fortune teller told you?”

  Molly shrugged. “I guess it would depend what she said.”

  Galahad padded into the kitchen, meowing. As Lucian reached down and scratched the cat’s head, he said: “Fine. I’ll get you the pictures today.”

  “Okay. Thanks—”

  “I’ll just have to figure out what to charge you.”

  “Charge me?” She ate her last bite of toast. “You mean for the ink and paper to print the pictures?”

  He winked, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Just teasing. I won’t ask you to pay for the printing.”

  “Well, that’s nice of you, but why—?”

  Lucian’s arm nudged hers. “I want to kiss you again. If you owe me—”

  “Don’t I already owe you? I stayed overnight on your sofa and ate food from your fridge.”

  His eyes narrowed. “True. And I put your wet clothes in the dryer this morning. They should be done by now.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  When he looked at her in that predatory way, especially when he was half-naked, she could hardly breathe. Still, she managed to say, “Do you feel entitled to a kiss?”

  “One kiss? No, not just one.”

  She laughed and swatted his arm.

  “Ow.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “That did
not hurt.”

  “How do you know? You’re not the one who got slapped—and on bare skin, too.”

  Molly made a disparaging sound, and Lucian chuckled. He loved the mischief in her expression. He shouldn’t enjoy teasing her so much, but their lively banter had woken him better than the caffeine in his coffee.

  As he held her gaze, uncertainty etched her face. She gathered her plate, mug, and silverware and stood. “That was very good, but I think I’m done with breakfast. How about you?”

  “I’m finished eating.” As he turned the laptop to face him and opened the email for Black Cat Antiquities, she carried their stacked dishes into the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher.

  “Just leave them,” Lucian said, skimming the messages. Two were queries from the website about appraisals. As he’d anticipated, there was an update from Julius. Lucian would read that email when she wasn’t in the room.

  At the sound of running water, he glanced at the kitchen. Molly had brought the pans to the sink.

  “I’ll do those later,” he insisted.

  “You made the meal. It’s only fair I wash up.”

  “You’re my guest.”

  “Yes, and because you’ve been so nice, I want to do my share.”

  Ah. “Does that mean you’re hoping to be invited back to my apartment sometime?”

  Molly smiled and bit down on her bottom lip. Heat swept through him, because he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss that gorgeous mouth. He’d make her wait a bit longer, though, before he kissed her again.

  Water sloshed in the sink as she scrubbed a pan.

  “If you really want to make things fair….”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ll have dinner with me tonight.”

  Puzzlement entered her gaze.

  “Is eight o’clock okay?”

  She rinsed the pan, set it in the drying rack then shook her head.

  “Is the time not convenient? Should we try earlier?”

  “No, Lucian.”

  Frustration gnawed at him. “Do you have another commitment tonight?”

  “My evening is free. At least, it was.”

  Bloody hell. “What—?”

  “Don’t get all grumpy.” Mirth danced in her eyes again, and the tension within him eased a notch. “It seems to me that since you cooked me breakfast, it’s only fair if I make you dinner.”

  Triumph burned in his gut.

  “I see.” He pretended to mull over what she’d said. With a sigh, she rinsed the last pan and put it in the drying rack.

  “Lucian.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Do you have plans for tonight?”

  “Well, I was hoping to see this hot blonde I met recently.”

  Molly’s face went pink.

  “But, I think she’s just claimed me for the evening.”

  She laughed. “You can’t be talking about me. I’m not hot.”

  “I was, and you are.”

  “Hush.”

  “Nope.”

  “So are you available tonight?”

  “For you?” he said. “Oh, yeah.”

  Tucking hair back behind her ear, Molly skirted the kitchen counter and approached the table. “I know you’re working at the store, and I will be busy at my mom’s house.”

  “Seven-thirty, then?”

  She folded her arms. “How about seven?” When he nodded, she added, “If your offer still stands, I’d like you to evaluate a few things at the house.”

  Finally.

  Lucian couldn’t hold back a grin. “I’d be happy to.”

  “I’m coming with you tonight,” Galahad said.

  After tossing the clothes Molly had worn into the laundry room hamper, Lucian set his hands on his hips and studied the cat sitting a few yards away.

  Molly had left a short while ago. Knowing he was going to see her again that evening had ignited a heady sense of anticipation within Lucian. If he kept his wits about him, he could accomplish a great many things that night—as well as enjoy his date with Molly. Because that’s what her invitation was: a date.

  Having the squire tag along? Not part of the plan.

  Galahad’s eyes gleamed in silent challenge.

  “Bringing you with me isn’t a good idea,” Lucian said.

  The feline’s stare didn’t waver. “You have no idea what you’re going to find at the house. Also, a squire always accompanies his knight. That’s the all-important rule. Remember?”

  Lucian shut the laundry room door. “I remember. However—”

  “Don’t you dare. If you make tonight an exception and break your own damned code of honor, I will resign my post.”

  Lucian fought not to smile.

  “I will run away, too.”

  Wincing, Lucian set his hand over his heart. “Ouch.” The squire must really want to go to Molly’s for him to raise not only the issue of honor, but to threaten to leave.

  After more stony silence, Lucian sighed. “With respect, you can’t resign. We’re cursed to be together forever.”

  Galahad grumbled.

  “Also, with respect, I’m the one in charge here. I decide—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine with you managing my life most of the time. But, not tonight.”

  Such resolve hardened the squire’s tone. Curious, Lucian asked, “Why is it so important that you come along?”

  The feline’s gaze flickered. “I just want to.”

  “No other reason?”

  Galahad glanced down at his paws then back up at Lucian. “Fine. I like Molly.”

  “She is a nice person.”

  “I care about her. A lot.”

  “As do I,” Lucian said, the truth of those three words resonating deep inside him. “I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”

  “Me neither—especially after she and I slept together last night. All night long.”

  A ridiculous twinge of jealousy stirred. Lucian shoved it aside.

  “I even gave Molly a good morning kiss on the mouth.”

  “Galahad!”

  “So, I’m going with you,” the squire said. “For Molly, if necessary, we will both kick ass.”

  Brave words, but Lucian had to wonder how, realistically, Galahad was going to kick anyone’s ass when he didn’t have feet, only paws. “Look, we have to be smart about tonight,” he said. “It will seem odd if I turn up on her doorstep with you by my side. It’s unusual. Molly might become suspicious.”

  The feline’s tail twitched. “I’m sure we can think of a good explanation. Tell her I’m your therapy cat.”

  “Therapy for…?”

  “Work-related anxiety.”

  Ah, the irony.

  “Or, you could say I’m an adventurous cat that goes everywhere with you—like the ones we’ve seen on social media that climb rock formations and go hiking with their owners.”

  Lucian frowned. “I’m not sure—”

  “Don’t give me that look. If the dark magic flares up at Molly’s house while you’re there, I can help you. If the Dealer we saw yesterday happens to show up at her home tonight, I can help you. It’s not only your duty to save a damsel in distress. It’s mine too.”

  “True,” Lucian said, “but we also swore oaths to be inconspicuous and intrude upon non-Magicals’ lives as little as possible. Bringing you into the house might cause problems for Molly, since she shares it with her late mother’s cats.”

  Galahad held up his right front paw. “I promise to be on my best behavior. No hissing. No fights. No stealing crunchies from their food bowls.”

  The squire sounded sincere, but Lucian shook his head. “That’s not going to work. Unless….”

  “Unless I don’t go inside the house,” the feline said.

  “Right. You could keep watch outside.”

  The squire’s demeanor brightened. “I’ll be a spy cat. I might even cross paths with that special female kitty again.”

  Lucian nodded. “If the Dealer turns up, you ca
n warn me and intercept him.”

  “What if you encounter the dark magic?”

  “I’ll open a door or window so you can get inside.”

  The feline’s chin nudged higher. “We’ll fight together.”

  “Together,” Lucian agreed.

  “I like our plan.” Galahad purred and lazily stretched. “I’m going to have a nice long nap today, so I’ll be ready for tonight.”

  Lucian ran his fingers through his hair, even as resolve coalesced in his mind. “I have something in mind for today, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Molly drove through the green light at Sherwood Boulevard then turned left into the public lot opposite Sherwood House. After finding a parking spot with some shade, she switched off the engine and sat in silence while around her families unloaded from vehicles and tourists snapped selfies with the historic home in the background.

  Sighing, Molly leaned forward to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. Why on earth had she invited Lucian to the house for dinner?

  No point denying she had feelings for him. She enjoyed their flirty conversations and how he made her feel important and beautiful. When he looked at her with his smoldering gaze, her mind raced with imaginings of what could happen if she kissed him again. She’d want more than just a kiss. If her intuition was right, Lucian would, too.

  She’d never been a casual fling kind of girl, though. A hopeless romantic, she could easily fall head-over-heels for Lucian.

  Even as she’d silently reminded herself at breakfast that she didn’t want a relationship, she’d asked him to dinner—as if her mind and mouth were acting independently.

  Crazy…but, she couldn’t deny that at times in the past few days, she’d felt as though her thoughts hadn’t entirely been her own.

  Maybe all of the paranormal weirdness in the town had gotten under her skin.

  Maybe she’d been possessed.

  Molly snorted then straightened, pushing hair out of her eyes. More likely, she was exhausted from stress and grief. She’d feel better once she’d finished clearing out the house and it was on the market.

  Having Lucian give her an in-home estimate of antiques she’d likely be selling was a step in that direction: A necessary step.