by T. M. Cromer
“Do you care to tell me why?”
“I don’t want to, no.”
“Then I can’t help you.”
“You’d put the fate of the world at risk simply because I don’t like your sister?” he asked, incredulous and on the verge of a meltdown.
“You have the right to not like my sister. But what I find difficult to come to grips with is your refusal to tell me why.”
She took a step forward, closing the short distance between them. Her chest brushed his, and Nash sucked in his breath. She placed her hand over his rapidly pounding heart and smiled.
“Is this a ploy to get me to tell you? Touch me and make my mind go to sludge?”
Her smile widened. “Is it working?”
“Better than you can possibly know.”
Ryanne sobered, and her face took on a look of soft pleading. “Tell me, Nash.”
He closed his eyes and almost shook his head at how easily she could manipulate him without trying. “Your sister is not what she seems.”
“Why would you say that?”
“When you first came to work for me, she tried to pass herself off as you.”
“What?”
“You had left with Liz not ten minutes before when she sailed into the office in the exact outfit you’d had on. It meant she had been watching and waiting for you to leave. Unless I miss my guess, she used magic. How else could she have known what you were wearing?” He shook his head. “At the time, I thought maybe she had someone scrying for her. Now, I wonder if she found a way to revive her powers long before you.”
Ryanne sank onto her coffee table and gripped the edges. “What happened?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he poured her a glass of water and brought it to her. He waited until she took a sip and put the glass down.
“Okay.”
“She tried to seduce me.”
“Ohmygod!” Disbelief gave way to her building rage. “I…how…what…”
Nash cupped her jaw and brushed his thumb back and forth along her cheekbone. “She came on to me, pretending to be you. I knew immediately that she wasn’t.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I let the scene play out, and—”
“Wait! What? You let her seduce you?” The fury in her tone couldn’t be mistaken.
“No!” he denied quickly. “It never went past a few kisses.”
Ryanne smacked his hand away. “Are you freaking kidding me right now? You kissed my sister? More than once?”
“Strictly to find out what she was after. I swear.”
“I can’t handle this right now.” Once again, she stalked to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
His instincts were screaming at him to resolve this here and now, but the set expression on her face told him she’d already made up her mind. Nash moved toward the door but stopped inches away. “She made a mistake by approaching me.”
Ryanne’s head snapped up. “How so?”
“She isn’t you.” He let her see his sincerity. “She doesn’t have your light.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I think you do. Or I hope one day you will.” He wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss her doubts away, but he refrained. “Call or text me as soon as you’re finished with the journal tonight. I’ll return for it.”
“I can bring it with me tomorrow.”
“I know you’ll need time to read it, but I’d prefer it not be out of my sight for that long. Since you don’t want me here, you’ll need to let me know when you’re done. I’ll come back when you’re through with it for the night.”
As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. “Nash?”
His silence encouraged her to continue.
“Did you really know the difference?” Her voice sounded small and uncertain.
His wide smile came unbidden. “Yeah, I really did. In my dreams, I’ve kissed you a million times, Ryanne. Rylee didn’t even come close. You, on the other hand, put those dreams to shame.”
The anger drained from her. “Come back in a half hour. Bring Häagan Dazs’s Midnight Cookies and Cream from the Decadent Collection.”
“Should I buy out the whole freezer section or only a few pints?”
“I’ll leave that up to you in case you want any.”
He lifted the hand clutching his forearm, and dropped a whisper-light kiss on her knuckles. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Chapter 7
After Nash left, Ryanne sagged back against the wall. An unexpected rage had overcome her when she’d found out Nash and Rylee shared a kiss—more than one, according to him. That fury nearly set her hair on fire. Yet, the one thing she could and did believe was her sister’s underhanded measures to get to Nash. It fit with Rylee’s initial desperation to meet him. The question was why?
Now, with Nash gone, Ryanne could think clearly. It wasn’t something she could do when he was close. This new sexual awareness between them had her too flustered to know up from down.
The idea of being party to kidnapping her sister and the subsequent identity swap disturbed her on every level. Although she and Rylee had shared a womb and still share an identical face, they were as different as night and day. Where Ryanne was staid and dependable, Rylee was impulsive and wild. Could she even hope to pull off a deception of that magnitude with someone who knew her sister as well as a lover? From all accounts, Victor Salinger wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
What did it say about Nash’s feelings for her if he was willing to throw her into the lion’s den? Either he had a massive amount of confidence in her, or he was willing to sacrifice her to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, both scenarios could apply. Nash was difficult to read. Ryanne’s one saving grace was that she was a damned good administrative assistant and Nash loved his routine. He might balk at having to replace her. Hadn’t he doubled her salary today?
As she studied the journal he’d left behind, the air crackled around her, and she froze in place. Through what could only be considered a rift in space, Alastair Thorne stepped into her living room.
“Close your mouth, dear girl. We don’t have much time.”
She shut her mouth, but she couldn’t do much about her stunned amazement.
“Listen carefully. Your sister is about to arrive. She’s walking through the door of your building as we speak.”
“Rylee?”
One of his arrogant brows shot skyward. “You have more than one sister?”
“For the love of all that is holy! You and Nash really are two peas in a pod, aren’t you?”
His lips twitched, but otherwise, he didn’t acknowledge her sarcastic comment. “Rylee has either tapped your place, or she was spying on you through a scrying mirror.”
“That would mean she has access to magic.”
“Precisely. But either way, she’s out to cause trouble. I suggest you—”
A knock sounded on her front door. “Ryanne?”
“What should I do?” Ryanne asked him scarcely above a whisper.
“Why, answer the door, of course.”
His wicked smile unnerved her. This man was far more dangerous than Nash on any given day.
As she walked toward the door, he waved a hand. When she looked over her shoulder, her jaw dropped to see the man she’d been kissing earlier that day. “Nash? No, wait. You…” What was it that Nash had said about a light? Hers was different than her sister’s? How had she not noticed Alastair’s light until she’d put a little distance between them?
“It’s okay, child. Open the door, but make sure you play along with whatever I say,” he ordered quietly.
Ryanne opened the door and prayed her face wasn’t a dead giveaway to the craziness happening in her apartment. Why Alastair felt the need to pose as Nash was beyond her, but when Nash finally showed up, it was going to be interesting.
“Leelee. What are you doing here?”
She noticed her sister’s dark gaz
e zero in on Alastair. The expression on Rylee’s face was nothing short of cunningly satisfied, and it sent a chill down Ryanne’s spine. What the hell was her sister up to this time?
“Why, Nash Thorne, as I live and breathe,” Rylee purred.
Even knowing Alastair was pretending to be Nash, Ryanne experienced a swift flash of jealousy unlike anything she’d ever known. What Rylee wanted, Rylee got—or at least she did ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time. Her intent to add Nash to her string of men was obvious.
“What do you want, Rylee?” Ryanne ground out, this time forgoing the nickname.
Rylee’s head whipped back around, and her mouth dropped open. Their entire lives, Ryanne had called her sister “Leelee” as part of their twin speak. But at the moment, any affection Ryanne held for her sister was sorely strained by her shenanigans.
Alastair shifted forward and dropped a casual arm across Ryanne’s shoulders. “Rylee, we weren’t expecting you.”
It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to do a double take. Alastair not only looked like Nash, he acted and sounded exactly like him, too. In a show of solidarity, she clasped his dangling hand, entwining their fingers. He gave her a subtle squeeze, and she assumed it was encouragement.
Rylee’s gaze sharpened on Alastair before she smiled. “Do I need an excuse to pop in to see my sister?”
“Advance notice would be nice.” His tone was brisk. “Ryanne and I were about to get busy.”
Ryanne choked. Hearing the great Alastair Thorne try to be hip nearly did her in. If he pounded her a little too hard on the back, she probably deserved it for ruining his game.
“Sorry,” she finally managed. “I swallowed my own spit.”
“Drooling over the image of a naked Nash, I’m sure.” Although Rylee thought she was being funny, her humor fell flat. “I’ve pictured him that way myself.”
The green-eyed monster woke within Ryanne. The tips of her fingers started to burn, and when she looked down, she was horrified to see a flame spark to life from her fingertips.
Alastair leaned in close to murmur, “Pull it back.” Pretending affection, he placed a light kiss on her temple. In a louder voice, he said, “It’s rumored that you and Victor Salinger are an item.”
A flash of some unnamed emotion came and went on Rylee’s face. “Victor doesn’t mind if I stray as long as I return to him.”
“Enough!” Ryanne snapped. “You and Nash will not now, nor ever… ever…” She couldn’t form the thought of them together, much less say it. She settled on a warning glare for Rylee. “Ever.”
Wicked delight lit Rylee’s coffee-colored eyes. “Oh, Ryanne, you’re jealous! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love.”
“Know better?” Alastair asked.
Because Rylee anticipated his question—and why wouldn’t she, she’d set him up nicely for it—her smile widened. “My dear sister has never had more than a passing fling. Perhaps it was the loss of our beloved parents, or our sweet but starchy, adoptive parents, but Ryanne refuses to give her heart to anyone. Isn’t that so, sister dear?”
Was it true? Had she refused to love another? Ryanne suspected her sister was correct. Black dots gathered behind Ryanne’s eyelids, and she began to hyperventilate. In the blink of an eye, Alastair scooped her up and strode to the sofa. He placed her gently on the cool leather cushion and conjured a glass of water.
Rylee’s gasp wasn’t feigned.
He chose to ignore her and pressed the glass into Ryanne’s hand. “Drink.” When he seemed satisfied she wasn’t going to pass out on him, he faced her sister. “Don’t pretend you don’t know about magic, Rylee. I’ve seen you in action.”
With a wary look, Rylee sank into the armchair across from them. She opened her mouth to speak when the front door opened.
“Hey, babe, I got… what the fuck? Achoo!”
Faster than the speed of lightning, Alastair fisted his hand. A simple snap of his long, elegant fingers restored him to his natural visage. “Hello, son.”
Chapter 8
Nash stared, speechless and more than a little confused. The weirdness meter was in the red zone. Why was his father pretending to be him? When had Rylee shown up to stir up her special brand of shit? And why was Ryanne looking like she wanted to toss her cookies at any second?
His primary concern was for Ryanne. Dropping the tubs of ice cream on the coffee table, he sat beside her in the space Alastair had vacated. “What’s the matter? Why do you look so pale?”
Wordlessly, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her to tuck her close against his side.
Nash looked to his father for answers.
“She was a little faint. I believe she finally realized she cares about you.” Amusement was heavy in Alastair’s tone. “Speaking from past experience, it’s a shock when that happens.”
A happy grin worked its way up from Nash’s toes and took over his entire being. He couldn’t contain his smile if he tried. His arm tightened reflexively around Ryanne.
Unfortunately, now was not the time to discuss love or relationships, certainly not with Rylee glaring at them with barely concealed hostility. She did a fantastic job of hiding her feelings, but one of Nash’s special abilities was to discern other people’s emotions. A simple magical probe of the air between them and he was able to read Rylee’s angry energy as it carried across the short distance. It remained to be seen whether she was upset about a potential relationship between him and Ryanne, or some other unknown reason.
He’d need to revisit Rylee’s motives later. In the meantime, the urge to ease Ryanne’s upset was strong. “I didn’t realize you were hosting a party without me and your Häagan Dazs’s Midnight Cookies and Cream. I’d have hurried back.”
Nash felt her smile against his neck. As she straightened and reached for the bag of goodies, he silently mourned the loss of her in his arms.
“Your timing is impeccable, as always. I could use this to cool down my temper.”
“Who has you upset, my love? I’ll tear the skin from their bones.” He lifted her hand to drop a kiss on her knuckles. Those same knuckles rapped him on the side of his head.
“You’re such a geek.” She cast a hard look at the group. “Everyone, take a seat at the dining room table. We have things to discuss.”
Because Ryanne looked so troubled, Nash felt compelled to tease her again. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”
He grinned when she cast a glare in his direction. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the telling twitch of her lips. Her humor was one of the things he appreciated most about her. Well, after her smoking-hot body.
Nash followed her to the kitchen on the pretext of making coffee. A quick backward glance showed Alastair and Rylee giving each other the stink eye. Careful to keep his tone low, he asked, “When did your sister arrive?”
“Less than two minutes after your father—which was about twenty minutes after you left.”
“I’m sorry, Ryanne. I wouldn’t have left if I’d have known you had to deal with this mess.”
“I don’t even know what this mess is. And besides, I kicked you out, remember?”
“True dat.” Nash dropped a quick kiss on her lips and conjured a pot of hot coffee. “We’d better get in there. Grab the cups.”
“I’m never going to get used to you producing things out of thin air,” she muttered as she rummaged through her cabinet for coffee mugs. “Or you saying things like ‘true dat.’”
Once seated, Nash broached the subject of the enormous elephant in the room. “Rylee, we know you and Ryanne once had magical abilities. It appears an organization known as the Witches’ Council bound your powers when you were younger and wiped the knowledge of magic from your minds.” Casually, he took a sip of coffee then set his mug down. “What I want to know is when you got your powers back?”
He felt more than saw Ryanne’s head whip in his direction. Not sparing her a glance, he kep
t his focus on her sister. “I’d also like to know how much you know about Victor Salinger’s business and how deeply you are involved in his dealings.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryanne stiffen and lean forward. Alastair remained the inscrutable statue he always appeared to be. Rylee, on the other hand, had a much more animalistic reaction. Her hands curled into claws, and she lunged across the distance.
With a quick sweep of his hand, Alastair threw up an invisible barrier designed to protect their group. Rylee crashed into it with a grunt and a few choice swear words.
“I’d say that gives you a good idea.” Alastair’s dry tone left no one in doubt of his thoughts on the matter. Nash was certain his father believed Rylee was complicit in Victor’s schemes.
Alastair waved his hand and slammed it flat on the table, causing everyone to jump. “Cohibeo.”
Nash understood the command and focused his attention on Ryanne. He could see the question forming on her lips and quickly shook his head. Taking his cue, she remained quiet and watchful. A glance showed Rylee understood her circumstances better than anyone. Fire blazed from her eyes as she squirmed in her chair and tried to break the magical hold Alastair had placed on her.
“You bastard! Let me go!”
“No.” Alastair perched on the edge of the table and straightened his tie. “I’m inclined to let you sit there like a recalcitrant child. When you are ready to cooperate, perhaps we’ll discuss your release.”
Rylee sent a beseeching look toward her twin. “Ryanne, please help me.”
Nash clasped Ryanne’s hand and interwove their fingers. The gesture seemed to ease her concern because she squeezed tightly.
“No, Rylee, I don’t think I will. Answer Nash’s original question. When did you get your power back?”
Hatred blazed from Rylee’s dark coffee-colored eyes. Nash felt the heat of her emotion, and he was left to wonder how it affected Ryanne. She had to be hurt by her sister’s defection and animosity.
