Hot Magic

by Catherine Kean

  “Okay.”

  With a grateful sigh, Molly washed her face and tidied her hair. Feeling better than ten minutes ago, she stepped out into the hallway with her almost empty wineglass.

  “She’s coming,” Rose whispered.

  Daisy giggled. “How exciting.”

  Frowning, Molly walked into the living room. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Galahad said, a little too quickly.

  The mischief in Lucian’s expression, though, told her that wasn’t true.

  “Would you mind helping me in the store?” he asked.

  Her stomach clenched. She’d promised to help The Experts. This could be her first task for them. “Does it involve magic?”

  “A kind of magic, yes,” Lucian answered.

  They left the apartment. The five felines, she noted, were close behind them.

  “Shouldn’t they stay in the apartment?”

  “Your cats haven’t seen the store yet. Galahad offered to give them a tour.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Lucian let them into the shop, which was remarkably tidy. If Molly hadn’t been involved in the recent battle, she’d hardly have believed a glass-shattering, furniture-scorching fight had taken place. Well, except for the burned table. She was glad to see the thoughtful note, taped to the tabletop, that provided the contact information for a restorer.

  “When did you clean up the debris?” she asked.

  “Cora and her friends handled it for me,” Lucian said. “Remind me to get Cora’s dish back to her in the next day or two, will you?”

  He led her to the front door, opened it, and ushered her outside.

  Molly squinted against the late afternoon sun reflecting off the store fronts.

  “Lucian…?”

  He pulled her to the right a few steps. “About here, I think.”

  “I only see sidewalk.”

  He smiled. “Not just any sidewalk. This is where you and I first met.”

  Hearing a thudding noise, she glanced up, to see Galahad on his hind legs, just as he’d done when she’d almost dropped the box of antiques she’d brought for appraisal. Her mother’s cats stood lined up beside him.

  “How adorable,” she murmured.

  Lucian moved to stand beside her. “I’ll never forget the day we met.”

  “Neither will I.” Meeting Lucian had changed her life forever, and for the better.

  He dropped down on one knee on the concrete.

  Her pulse fluttered. “Oh, goodness—”

  Lucian took an object out of his pocket: A vintage ring box.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

  Lucian opened the box to reveal a square-cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds on a white gold band. “This antique engagement ring was given to a woman by a man who loved her very much. They had a long, happy marriage,” he said.

  “Oh, Lucian—”

  “That’s what I want for us. A long, happy marriage built on love.”

  She trembled.

  “I realize we haven’t known each other for long, Molly, but will you—?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey, I didn’t finish my question.”

  “Well, you weren’t going to ask me if I wanted another glass of wine.”

  Lucian chuckled. “Not yet, I wasn’t. But, I must be gallant and propose properly.” He cleared his throat. “Molly, will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” She waited while he slipped the ring on her finger. “It’s a little large,” he said, but we’ll get the band adjusted.” As he rose, he asked, “Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” She melted against him and kissed him; slow, deep kisses that promised she’d love him forever…because she would.

  “Aww,” Molly heard Rose say through the glass.

  “We must help with the wedding plans,” Petunia mewled.

  “And choosing the dress,” Daisy said.

  “Veil, too,” Petunia agreed.

  “Do they let cats into bridal shops?” Rose asked.

  “Geez,” Galahad muttered. “They haven’t even finished their engagement kiss.”

  Daisy sighed dreamily. “They look perfect together.”

  “They do.” Rose agreed.

  Lucian broke the kiss, and Molly blinked up at him, her heart still soaring.

  His mouth curved in a sly grin.

  “What?” she murmured.

  “I’m going to go all Medieval on you now.”

  “What does that—?”

  He bent and slung her over his right shoulder.

  “Lucian!”

  Ignoring her spluttering, he went back inside the shop and locked the door. “Give the ladies the full tour, will you?” he said to Galahad before heading for the apartment.

  Jostled against Lucian’s back, her hair hanging down over her face, Molly heard Daisy sigh again.

  “That love they share? That’s its own kind of magic.”

  “Not just any magic.” Galahad purred. “Hot magic.”

  Also Available from Cat’s Paw Cove

  A Witch in Time

  By Catherine Kean and Wynter Daniels

  Chapter One

  Luna opened her eyes and gazed up at an ominously black sky. Shivering against the damp wind, she tried to get her bearings.

  Where am I?

  And why was the ground moving? Not moving exactly, more like rocking. She inhaled and detected the salty smell of the sea. Propping herself up on her elbows, she scanned the surroundings. She was alone on the deck of an old-fashioned ship, like the one they’d raised from the harbor—which had been turned into the Shipwreck Museum.

  The floorboards creaked nearby. Then she saw him—a man, leaning on the railing, facing the water. In the darkness, she could only make out his silhouette—a little taller than her brother Leo, and more broad-shouldered. The man’s long hair blew around his face and neck, and his loose white shirt billowed in the wind. Gripping the railing, he turned his head her way.

  Luna gulped, but knew immediately that he didn’t see her. Still, she couldn’t stop staring at him. He was…ridiculously handsome.

  Only in my dreams….

  She studied his strong jaw, chin, and cheekbones. His dark brows knotted. Until his eyes found Luna’s, and his gaze trailed down her body, heating her skin as if he’d actually touched her.

  Tendrils of desire spread through her.

  Ding, ding, ding.

  The unwelcome noise yanked her from the dream.

  No! She hadn’t even gotten to kiss him.

  Ding, ding, ding.

  She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and shut off the alarm. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to return to the ship, to the man.

  A rough, wet tongue licked her chin.

  “Meow?”

  Luna groaned. “You’re a poor substitute for my dream guy, Hecate.”

  The white cat with facial markings like a black mask around the eyes climbed onto Luna’s chest and purred. And she knew from experience that Hecate wouldn’t leave her alone until Luna fed her.

  “Okay, fine.” Luna eased Hecate off of her as she sat up in bed. It was almost 4:30, and she had to be at the café in half an hour to start the morning baking.

  After pouring food into Hecate’s bowl, she stumbled into the shower. Before she left for work, she knocked on the guest room door to wake her brother, who was staying with her after an epic fight with his girlfriend of the month. “Time to get up, Leo.”

  He grumbled something unintelligible.

  “See you at seven,” she said. “I fed Hecate. Don’t believe her if she acts like she’s hungry. And remember, Jordan and I will be leaving the café before nine for the Founders’ Day event, so don’t be late.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled.

  Founders’ Day, ugh! It was going to be a long day, as it always was. But this year, aside from the crowds, period re-enactors, and all the vendors at the park to commemorate the seventeenth
-century shipwreck that had led to the founding of Cat’s Paw Cove, there was the additional draw of the preliminary opening of the Shipwreck Museum. Luckily, Cove Cat Café was only a ten-minute bike ride from her cottage near the beach—a little less at this time when the streets were virtually deserted. As she pedaled past Wilshire Park, the clock in the tower struck five.

  She turned off of Whiskers Road into Calico Court then locked her bike on the rack next to the café door and let herself inside. When she switched on the lights, she glanced through the large window that separated the coffee shop from the cat room. A grey tabby yawned before returning to his nap. None of the other cats stirred.

  Luna got right to work, baking enough cookies, pastries and miniature quiches for both the café and their Founders’ Day booth. Three and a half hours flew past.

  By the time Luna parked the work van behind their booth at Boardwalk Park, most of the other vendors were already set up. Good thing she had Jordan there to help her this year. Luna had a feeling that her very talkative friend and employee would make the day fly past.

  The blonde chirped about her boyfriend, Sawyer. “…And he made the most amazing dinner last night.” Jordan sighed. “I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet.”

  “That’s great, sweetie.” Luna climbed out of the van.

  Jordan met her at the back of the vehicle. “My first Founders’ Day.” She helped Luna transfer cats from small carriers into the large pen at their booth on the boardwalk. “And the fact that it’s such a special one—with the opening of the Shipwreck Museum—makes it even better! I’m so excited.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Luna wished that she shared her friend’s exuberance for the annual event. She probably should have asked her brother to handle the Cove Cat Café’s vendor booth at the celebration, but Luna had always been the one to do it. Besides, she really was looking forward to the time with Jordan. In the short time she’d known the young woman, they’d become close friends. And Jordan’s gift of communicating with animals had made the cat adoption part of the café run so much smoother. Hopefully, Jordan’s bubbly personality would save Luna from having to engage with everyone who wanted to play with the cats, or hopefully, adopt one or two. Luna’s naturally shy nature wasn’t suited to working crowded festivals.

  Who am I kidding?

  The real reason she now hated Founders’ Day had nothing to do with the hard work and long hours. But this year she had a plan. This morning she had cast a spell of protection around herself before she’d left the café. Too bad she hadn’t thought to do that in years past. She’d have saved herself a whole lot of misery.

  “Are you worried about the café?” Jordan asked. “I doubt it’ll be busy today. Most of the town will be here. Leo can handle things there.”

  “I know.” Luna had every confidence that her brother would be fine running the place by himself. So why was her stomach tied up in knots? Twice in the past three years, she’d met guys she’d ended up dating at Cat’s Paw Cove’s biggest yearly event. Both of those relationships had ended badly. But how could she have known that Glen had had a fiancé in New York? He certainly hadn’t shared that information with her at any point in the four months he and Luna had dated. Until the woman had shown up at his door sporting a suitcase and a canary diamond.

  Then at last year’s Founders’ Day, Tim had approached the Cove Cat Café’s booth and played with every cat in the pen. By the end of the day, he’d convinced Luna to go out with him, against her better judgment. He’d been so handsome and sweet. She should have known that he’d been too good to be true. The jerk had strung her along for three months before admitting that he preferred men. He’d merely been “trying to be straight” for his very-conservative parents.

  Yeah, she had a knack for choosing the most unavailable guys. But this year she was safe. She was taken, sort of. As soon as she really gave herself over to the idea of dating Chuck, everything would be fine.

  If only she could shake off that witchy premonition that something was going to happen today that would rock her world. No, it was probably just the fact that she hadn’t slept enough. She couldn’t get that strange dream of being on an old-fashioned ship off her mind. And that insanely hot guy she’d seen there. Must have been because of that news story she’d seen on CPC-TV last night. Several members of the Historical Society had spoken about the restoration of the Guinevere. Luna had paid closer attention because the reporter had interviewed one of Luna’s regulars from the café, Roberta Millingham.

  The sheriff approached the booth and smiled at Luna. “Good morning,” he said. “Hi, Jordan.”

  “Hey, RJ,” Jordan replied.

  The sheriff stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m speaking to all the vendors before the festival kicks into high gear. I’d like you to let me know if anyone asks a lot of questions about the museum.”

  “What’s going on, RJ?” Luna asked.

  His lips flattened to a tight line. “I’m sure you’ve both heard the rumors that there’s a secret treasure hidden somewhere on the ship. And believe me, I’m sure it isn’t true. The restoration team has been all over that vessel. Ninety percent of it is completely restored. If there were any treasure to be found, they’d have come across it by now. But, there are still folks out there who think they can find what everyone else has missed.”

  “We’ll call you if we hear or see anything suspicious.” Jordan set a basket of cat toys for sale next to the bakery case chock full of Luna’s homemade pastries and cookies. “How about a coffee, on the house?” She nudged Luna. “I’m sure my boss is down with that.”

  Luna grabbed a paper cup. “Absolutely. No sugar, extra cream, right?”

  “You know me, Luna. Thanks.” Sheriff Higgins grinned. “I hope you’ve got enough supplies for an army. I heard that ticket sales for today surpassed last year by more than fifty percent.”

  “Oh, great.” Not! As she handed the sheriff his coffee, she glimpsed a crowd of festival-goers, some dressed up as pirates, headed her way. Swallowing, she mentally reinforced the protective shield around herself.

  Atlantic Ocean, near St. Augustine, Florida

  1645

  “They’re moving away,” the ship’s captain said, his spyglass trained on the vessel on the horizon.

  Standing on the deck of the Guinevere beside the captain, Colin Wilshire released a sigh of relief, but the sound was snatched by the wind. The gentle sighing of the breeze had increased to an eerie whistling a short while ago when storm clouds had blackened the mid-afternoon sky.

  Lightning flashed in the distance, accompanied by peals of thunder that were growing louder. The tempest was headed straight for them.

  The storm must have convinced the other vessel—the captain believed it was a pirate ship—to change course.

  Still frowning, the captain lowered his spyglass. Glancing over his shoulder, he shouted orders to his crew already working to adjust the sails. Other crewmembers on deck were tying ropes around barrels and nets to secure them.

  Fifteen years older than Colin and with graying brown hair, the captain had made the journey from England to Barbados and back again four times. Before leaving the Port of London, he’d gathered all of the passengers together and had warned them of the risk of being attacked by buccaneers. Since families with young children were booked on the sailing, he’d felt an even greater responsibility to deliver the warning.

  With Spanish galleons weighed down by riches traveling the waters, and the British also eager to claim a share of the New World’s treasures, pirate attacks were a constant threat. The captain had offered to refund passengers’ money if they decided they’d rather not make the sea journey, but no one had accepted the offer.

  “It’s good news, surely, that the pirates turned away?” Colin curled his right hand on the weathered rail and fought to keep his balance as the Guinevere rolled upon strong waves.

  The captain shook his head. “Once the tempest is over, the pirates will be back.”


  “Perhaps their ship will be damaged in the storm. They might no longer be able to attack.”

  “It’s possible.” As Colin’s hopes lifted a fraction, the captain added grimly, “Unfortunately, the marauders know these waters better than my crew and I. They know the islands and protected coves where they can drop anchor and wait out the storm. They know the reefs that can pierce a ship’s hull. They’ll let the wind and sea batter us. Then they will come for us.”

  Crikey. The situation couldn’t possibly be so dire. “Can’t we also seek shelter at one of those islands or coves?”

  “And make it easy for the pirates to entrap us or force us aground? You must not have heard what pirates do to their captives.”

  Colin had indeed heard some harrowing tales. His cousin, Matthew Wilshire, who’d invested in a small shipping fleet that sailed from London to the Caribbean, had told him the stories after Colin had confided that he was going to leave England. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you or your lovely wife,” Matthew had said, his unusual, pale blue eyes lit with concern. “If I were you, I’d stay in England. I beg you, think about it.”

  Colin had, over many sleepless nights. Kept awake by his racing mind, he’d sat at the desk in his late father’s study and had put quill and ink to parchment—rather ironic, when his sire had always considered Colin’s creative pursuits a waste of time. Colin had finished the drawings of his latest invention; sketches he’d intended to show investors. He needed funds to not only make the wheeled contraption, but begin paying off his late father’s secret, outstanding gambling debts. Colin had inherited them along with the bankrupt family estate and letters bearing King Charles I’s official seal that demanded immediate payment of overdue taxes.

  While Matthew had offered to loan Colin some money if he’d stay in the country, Colin couldn’t accept. His cousin’s finances were already at risk from investing in the fleet. Colin’s sense of pride also wouldn’t let him become indebted to anyone else, especially a widow with a limited income—his reason for refusing Evelyn’s plea to borrow money from her mother. In the end, Colin had decided his only option was to use the savings he’d reserved for his inventions and flee. Perhaps in Barbados, once he and Evelyn were settled, he could look for investors.