ParaMatch.com: A Tickle My Fantasy story

by MK Mancos

  There was one particularly embarrassing incident that ended in Lucilla almost burning her aunt’s kitchen down, and singeing the cat in the fallout. The Witches Council had not been amused. After that, she’d been banned from working near an open flame for a sentence of five years.

  Lucilla wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself in remembered defeat. She’d been more than the black sheep of the Wainwright clan. Never before, in the entire family history, had there ever been a more spectacular failure.

  And now her aunt wanted her to go on a date with a man who had proven himself not only as the most talented wizard to be born in over five hundred years, but whose recent innovations had him moving up the Council ladder at warp speed.

  How would Aramis Blacktalon feel about going on a date with the biggest disappointment in all witchdom? Lucilla would never sanction such a mismatch in her office. But for her aunt to run interference with the Council, Lucilla would play along. She just had to remember all her failures led to the success of her business. The need to prove herself as a vital, even needed, member of the Para community ran deep.

  The feeling of being stared at had Lucilla opening her right eye. Bright sunshine filtered through the red, yellow and orange leaves of the turning trees, painting the ground in dappled light. A large dog sat at her feet, looking up at her with his pink tongue lolling out of his open mouth.

  “Hello.” Lucilla held her hand out for the animal to sniff.

  Intelligent gray eyes blinked at her. The dog wagged his tail then stood.

  Lucilla pet his head. “You’re a good boy.”

  He turned his head to lick her hand.

  “Where’d you come from? I don’t think you belong to the neighbors. I’d remember you.”

  He was an absolutely gorgeous animal with thick black fur, a muscular body and large white teeth. Whoever owned him took excellent care of him.

  “Do you have tags?” Lucilla ran her hands though the slightly thicker hair around the dog’s neck. She felt no collar or tags.

  “Are you thirsty? Let’s go get you some water.”

  Lucilla rose from the Adirondack chair and crossed the yard with the dog on her heels. She slipped into the house to get a bowl.

  The dog waited at the screen, looking in at her. He tilted his head to the side, as if trying to understand what she was doing.

  She quickly filled the bowl then set it outside on the porch. The dog sniffed at it then drank with noisy laps.

  “You were a thirsty boy.”

  Lucilla started petting him again, loving the feel of his fur. It was as luxurious as a mink pelt.

  And definitely not right for a dog.

  Her hand stilled.

  The dog lifted his head, turning to look at her over his shoulder. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he had a teasing glint in his eyes.

  He gave a deep bark then ran off toward the setting sun, disappearing into the lengthening shadows of the orchard.

  A sinking feeling centered in her sternum—just below her heart and right above her stomach. No. He wouldn’t. Would he?

  Lucilla hurried back into the house, practically diving for the phone. Thank the goddess she had Rebekah’s number on speed dial.

  “This better be good. My youth elixir is going to thicken.” The words were huffed into the phone under stress.

  “I only have one quick question and then I’ll let you get back to your brew. Can Aramis Blacktalon morph?”

  “Lucilla?”

  “Who else would it be?” Lucilla gripped the phone, looking out the door at the water dish. “I had a visit from a large black dog who mocked me.”

  “Mocked you?”

  “I swear on the Witches’ Codex.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I saw him laughing at me when I petted him. He had this incredibly soft black hair. I couldn’t keep my hands out of it.”

  The distinct sound of a muffled snort filtered through the phone.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Darling, don’t be so dramatic. So what if he took on an animal shape to visit you? Maybe he just wanted to get a look at you.”

  “Why would he do that?” Bewilderment made her voice come out in a whine. She winced. “Civilized people call and make a date, or arrange to bump into someone at the local coffee shop. They do not show up in an alternate form to sniff out a potential date.”

  Rebekah choked. “I’ll call him and find out.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Why did dating have to be so hard when she was a professional matchmaker? She owned the keys to the entire dating kingdom, for crying out loud.

  “Then what do you want me to do?” Pans banged around in the background.

  “Just tell me if he can morph or not.” Sounds came from outside. Weird ones. Lucilla crossed the room to close the door.

  “I’m pretty sure he can.” There were rustling noises suggesting Rebekah moved the phone to the other ear. “He’s one sharp practitioner.”

  Lucilla rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. “I’m feeling exceptionally violated at the moment.”

  “Just where did he sniff you?”

  “I can’t believe you asked me that.” A sharp click interrupted the conversation. “Aunt Rebekah, I have another call. I’ll ring you back in a bit. And take care of that youth elixir, I can hear it thickening from here.”

  Lucilla bristled as the café door opened and in walked a man with dark silky hair and clear gray eyes. His gaze surveyed the other customers before landing on her. A warm smile turned his face from merely handsome to truly stunning.

  Her breath caught in her throat even as her temper flared. She stood, snatching her purse off the table.

  Did he think she wouldn’t know?

  Aramis Blacktalon held his hand out, entreating her to stay. “Please don’t leave, Lucilla.”

  “Give me one good reason why.” She crossed her arms under her breasts.

  He indicated the table she’d vacated with a subtle movement of his hand—one that told of countless hours casting spells and weaving dreams. “Can we sit while I grovel?”

  “If you’d called me like a…”

  “Like a what? A normal person?”

  Lucilla blushed at her near faux pas. The least she could do was defend herself against the charge of nearly calling him normal. There was no worse epithet in the Para world.

  She took the chair across from him. “No. I was going to say like a civilized being.”

  That same teasing glint filled his gray eyes, making them sparkle with devilish light. “I am sorry. It’s just your aunt talked you up so much, I wanted to see if you really are everything she claimed.”

  “Ah, so you went to my house to trick me?”

  When he smiled, he had the most charming dimple in his left cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to be a trick, but you kept digging your hands in my fur and it was starting to turn me on. I had to get out of there before I embarrassed myself.”

  “I don’t think I want to know what you mean by that.” Lucilla frowned. Truly, she didn’t want to know. The thought alone conjured up all sorts of visions better left unmentioned.

  “My intentions were honorable. They just didn’t materialize the way I’d planned.”

  “I find that hard to believe for the Council’s new favorite son.” She leaned on her forearms. “Exactly how long has it been since a magic work backfired on you?”

  His movie star brow wrinkled. “Never.”

  Of course he had a perfect track record. What was he going to say when he figured out she was the worst non-talent in the witching community? Her family, even with their influence, was never able to keep the glare of her defect from the rest of their kind.

  Had her aunt even told him?

  Maybe Rebekah misled him into thinking she used powers to match people. Would she do something so potentially disastrous to a new or tentative relationship?

  Lucilla started out of her seat. “I don’t think this is going to work.”r />
  Aramis placed his hand over hers. “You don’t know until you give it a chance.”

  “Do you know what I am?”

  His steady gaze studied her, as if trying to guess what she meant. Strong male fingers gripped her hand a bit tighter. “A matchmaker?”

  “That sounded like a guess.” Maybe Rebekah hadn’t told him anything about her but what a wonderful person she was. If so, that should have been his first clue that something was wrong with her. No one was ever as good as advertised.

  “It wasn’t. I know you’re a matchmaker. I just don’t have any idea what else you could mean.”

  Oh, boy.

  Time to drop the other ruby slipper on the guy. “You’re exactly right. I am a matchmaker, but that’s all I am.”

  Aramis laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Whether you do or do not is immaterial.” She let out a long sigh. “If it’s a date with the prodigal daughter of the Wainwright clan, you’re going to be bitterly disappointed.”

  “Anyone who sees a stray dog and worries if he’s thirsty or has a family missing him is not a disappointment.”

  Lucilla melted. So, Aramis Blacktalon was a really great guy. Granted, he was no Jager Cronus, but a good catch nonetheless. Lucilla didn’t doubt the wizard’s sincerity for even a moment. It was apparent in the look of his eyes and the touch of his hand on hers.

  She gave a little shrug then smiled. “So, you want to get some coffee?” If nothing else he’d be a potential match for one of her clients. And after his furry prank, he owed her.

  Chapter Six

  Darkness flooded the neighborhood, interrupted by ornamental streets lamps made to look like antique gaslights. The street meandered along lazy curves like a blacktop river—the fact the Styx River ran along the back of the west-facing properties notwithstanding.

  Lucilla drove towards her house, her mind a whirlwind of the day’s events. Coffee with Aramis was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Fun was important. Fun was what she watched everyone else have while she worked her non-talented fingers to the bone to match other people so they could have fun.

  The road wound around a hairpin turn, exposing the front view of her house. The porch light of the old Victorian burned brightly, illuminating the dark yard. Out front, an unfamiliar car sat idling at the curb.

  At this point all she wanted was to take a long, hot bubble bath and fall into bed. It didn’t look like that was on the horizon. Who would sit in front of her house in the first place? She never gave out personal information to her clients, so it most likely wasn’t one of them.

  She pulled slowly into her drive, looking in the rearview mirror at the car as the driver’s door opened. A tall, well-proportioned man stood. The light from the street lamp rendered his face half in shadow, but even from where Lucilla sat, she knew the identity of her mystery visitor.

  Jager gazed over the top of his car and gave a hesitant wave.

  Flutters like leaves stuck in a whirlwind flew around inside her stomach. She smoothed her hand over her abdomen in an attempt to calm the flying furies. What was it about Jager that made her body misbehave?

  She motioned for him to come up to the house. It took him no time to get to her with his long strides.

  He looked good. The dark suit jacket hung perfectly on his wide shoulders. He moved with elegant grace for such a big man. When he reached her, she looked up into his face, afraid he could hear her heart pound.

  A rich, spicy scent filled her head. Oh, Goddess weeping, he even smells good! How was she supposed to resist him when he showed up at her door looking like the best fantasy she’d ever had? He gazed at her as if he didn’t know how he’d come to be standing on her doorstep. And for the life of her, Lucilla couldn’t think of a word to say.

  Then he was there, kissing her mouth like a starving man. Lucilla put her hands on his shoulders, intending to push away from his unprovoked admiration, but only managed to sink her hands into his thick hair, holding onto him, afraid he’d let her go.

  Her entire body melted against the wall of his heat. His tongue brushed against hers. A faint tang of cloves clung to his mouth. Why did he have to taste good, too? Now she’d never want to stop kissing him. But she had to. He was a client. His fees helped keep a roof over her head and food on her table. Kissing him was definitely unethical.

  Lucilla managed to pull her mouth away from his. The maneuver didn’t have the desired effect of stopping the kiss. It only served to give him an opportunity to run his mouth into her hairline, to kiss her temple and breathe hot breath into her ear.

  Her nipples were so hard they ached behind the confines of silk and lace. Without conscious thought, she arched her back, rubbing them against him for relief.

  “Lucilla,” Jager moaned. “Please, don’t send me out on another bad date when I already know who I want.”

  For a second she tensed, until she realized what he meant. She wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it. “Who do you want?”

  He laid his forehead against hers. “I’m holding her right now.”

  “If that’s true, why did you sign up for my services?”

  “I didn’t know it was you.” He put his finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “I’m not used to begging. It’s not in my nature. But if you make me go out with the djinn, I’ll be reduced to it.”

  A fallen god begging? It made for an intriguing picture, but Lucilla had never been that cruel. She slid her hand in his then turned to the door. “Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss what we’re going to do with you.”

  She led him through the living room and into the den. The room was filled with earthy colors, rich and warm. It was her favorite room in the house. Large, overstuffed furniture was grouped in the middle of the space to make for an intimate setting.

  Lucilla indicated the sectional with a turn of her hand. “Have a seat and I’ll bring us some drinks.”

  He released the button on his jacket and sat on the sofa. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you. I like it.” She poured them both some brandy and carried it over to him.

  She took a seat across from him, balancing her drink on her crossed legs. “Did something happen tonight to make you come over here and wait at the curb for me?” The words, and kiss me, echoed in her head, but she refrained from saying them.

  He swirled the brandy around in the snifter. “I had a date with Maribon Seacrest.”

  A hand clamped around Lucilla’s heart to squeeze. Wasn’t that what she was being paid for? She’d only done her job in setting them up.

  “I see.” Her throat tried to close around the words. Even though it was obvious he hadn’t had a good time on the date, it was like a knife going through her gut.

  “The night will not be repeated.”

  “Oh, Jager.” She hid her smile behind her hand. “You really know how to charm the ladies, don’t you?”

  He frowned. “What makes you think the failure of the date was my fault?”

  “Your track record. You’ve found fault with them all.” Warming to the conversation, she shifted in her seat. “How do I know, if I go with you to the Legion Halloween Dance, you won’t say the same thing about me?”

  “You are going with me to the dance. You’ve already agreed.”

  “I agreed to it on the stipulation you went out with both of my clients. Now you’re here wanting to go back on your word.” Lucilla shook her head in mock pity. “I don’t know, sounds to me as if I may need to apologize to my other clients for sending them on dates with you.”

  She watched his jaw tighten. He turned his head to avoid looking at her. “I’ve never gone back on my word.” When his gaze connected with hers again, his eyes were hot, intense. “I want you. I don’t want to wait.”

  His words sucked all the air from the room. That was about as plain a declaration as she’d ever heard. It was also a challenge. Stalling for time, she took a sip of her brandy.

 
; When she didn’t reply, he set his glass on the low coffee table and stood, moving around to where she sat. “Don’t tell me you felt nothing when I kissed you.”

  She started at his feet, letting her gaze travel the long way up his body until she looked directly into his eyes. “I have no intention of denying anything. But I’m not going to let you go back on your promise either.”

  He went down on one knee in front of her. “Why do you want to torture me?”

  Lucilla laughed. “Is that what I’m doing? I don’t mean to. But you paid for my services and I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you the entire benefit of my experience and knowledge.”

  A low rumble came from deep in Jager’s chest. “I see.” He plucked the glass from her hand and set it on the table next to his. He let his large palms slide up along the outside of her thighs. “I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but maybe we could find another way for you to demonstrate your experience to me.”

  “Such as?” Heaven help her, but she couldn’t think when he ran his thumbs over her hipbones like that.

  “Letting me know what it’s like to date a woman who is as respectable as she is sexy.”

  “Me? Sexy?” She let him see just how funny she thought the notion.

  “Unbelievably so.” He leaned forward just enough to press his lips to her forehead.

  Heat speared her to the chair. This was what a woman should feel like—the center of a man’s universe, doggedly pursued by him until she felt consumed.

  He ran his lips over her face. “Are you going to make me go through another date? Or do I need to fire you as my matchmaker so I can have you all to myself?”

  “No. I’m not letting you back out of our agreement. You never know, Jager, you might really enjoy a date with a djinn.”

  “Not when I’ll be thinking of you.” He picked up her hand from her lap, bringing it to his mouth. He pressed a kiss on her fingers then opened them to place one on her palm.