by Ashlyn Chase
She rested her elbows on the table and ran her delicate fingers over her forehead and along her scalp, until her down-turned head rested in her hands.
Vic took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her vulnerability tugged at his heart. “I know this must be an uncomfortable topic, but can you tell me what he did or tried to do to you? It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.”
She shrugged. “I guess I might as well. When I was working as a secretary in an office, he sent me a dozen red roses. They turned black by the end of the day, and he was waiting outside the door when I left. He grabbed me and tried to pull me toward his van. Thank the Goddess I knew a few basic self-defense moves. I barely made it to my car.”
“What did you do?”
“Kicked him in the jewels.”
Vic crossed his legs. “So, you thank the Goddess, huh? It doesn’t sound like there was any magic involved. It just sounds like good, old-fashioned self-defense to me. And by the way, good thinking. Getting into the van would have been a huge mistake. So, what else did Grant do to you?”
She heaved a huge sigh. “Well, kicking him where it hurt really set him off. Next time he had something waiting for me inside my house.”
“How did he get in?”
“I don’t know. Probably a lock-opening spell.”
“A what?”
She shot him a narrow-eyed glare that spoke volumes. Uh oh. She’s pissed off at the non-believer.
“I shouldn’t have told you about the magic. You can’t help me. It’s obvious that you don’t believe.”
“Wait. That’s not it.” Vic leaned forward, flustered. “I find it intriguing. I just don’t know much about it.”
“Yeah. Lots of people have preconceived ideas and never learn anything more than how to jump to conclusions.” Her eyes imparted a wintry chill.
“Well, straighten me out, then.” Careful, Vic. She believes in this hoodoo stuff.
“I’m always happy to undo the stigma wherever I can, but are you open-minded? Or, do you just want to be entertained by the kooky witch?”
“I’m very open-minded. Like I said, I’m fascinated.” The more he talked to her the more enthralled he was by her beauty. A photograph could never capture the grace of her movements or the silky sound of her voice. She was anything but kooky. To anyone else she would look perfectly normal. Maybe a little bohemian, like a young, earthy Renaissance maiden. Vic stared at her cleavage and the hint of black lace under her low-cut tank top.
Ooooh. No, she wasn’t kooky at all. She was a very sexy woman who happened to think she was a witch. He imagined her curvaceous form without the sleeveless top. What was the black lace undergarment? A bra? Maybe a teddy? He felt his heart beat faster.
Forcing his eyes to look elsewhere, he focused on the cards. He’d better stop questioning her faith and get back to the danger she was facing. “You mentioned something was waiting for you inside your house. What was it?”
She sighed. “He left a voodoo doll of me in my bed. A note said the pins would be stuck in places I’d regret if I didn’t come back.”
Vic frowned. “Like where?”
“He marked three spots with a red X. My head, my heart and my . . .” she bit her lip, “vagina.”
Even though he couldn’t take it seriously, the fear on her face and her trembling hands proved one thing to him. The sicko’s terror tactics had certainly worked like magic.
He reached across the table and took her ice-cold hands in his. After a few moments, the gesture steadied her.
“You mentioned there were three incidents?”
“The last one is the worst.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she withdrew her hands. “That was when I realized he was truly evil. I can’t talk about it yet. Maybe I’ll tell you another time, but for now, just know that I’ll do anything to get away from him, as long as it doesn’t violate my ethics.”
Jesus. Here she was, worried about ethics, when anyone else would be rationalizing the shit out of dispensing vigilante justice. Who knew ethics could be so sexy?
* * * * *
“Hold these screws for me,” Vic said.
Alex reached up and took the four screws that held the plate over the air vent. “Are you sure they won’t notice a camera up there?”
“If you insist it be out of sight, this is the best place for one. It’ll capture what happens from the register to the front door.”
“I really don’t want her to be wise to the idea that I hired you. She won’t let me pay for it and she can’t afford surveillance equipment.”
Vic placed the camera in the vent, aimed the lens in the right direction, and then checked the view from his phone.
“She’s gonna be pissed if she finds out I have you watching the place,” Alex said.
“At least she’ll be alive to get upset with you.”
“Yeah. There’s that.”
Vic replaced the grate and extended his cupped hand for the screws. Alex dropped them into his hand and Vic screwed the grate in place. He checked the view again. No obstructions. Perfect.
“Look, there’s a good chance he’ll at least scope out the place. If I have the ability to see who I’m dealing with, so much the better.”
“Yeah, I wish we had a picture of him, but Michele burned them all.”
Vic chuckled. “She had a boyfriend bonfire?”
“No. Nothing that mundane. She was probably releasing his spirit to the universe or some such nonsense. I swear, the girl knows her stuff, even if I think it’s a bunch of malarkey.”
“Has she always been interested in magic?”
“Ever since she was a child. My wife had a friend who was a witch. She consulted her for healing after the doctors said there was nothing more they could do. The cancer cells had spread so badly, they’d recommended hospice care. Well, the witch did her thing and my wife claimed she felt better. She lived another four years after the docs gave her six months, and she was relatively pain free.”
Vic climbed down off the ladder. “Yet, you didn’t become a convert.”
Alex chuckled. “Not really. I mean, it could have been a coincidence, or a result of the medical treatment she’d had up to that time.”
Vic nodded. “I can see why Michele would want to believe that magic helped her mother. But how does she explain the fact that she died anyway?”
“A car accident.”
“Oh. That wouldn’t fall under the healing cancer stuff—I guess.”
“Yeah. We both took it really hard. Eventually, I tried to cure my grief by moving to Florida. That’s when Michele started hating me.”
“I’m sure she didn’t hate you. Normal teenage angst may have played a part.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah. Probably. All I know is that a lot of things were said that shouldn’t have been. It’s taken some time to get past it.”
“But you have, right?”
“I think so. She means the world to me, Vic. Please do whatever you have to do to keep her safe.”
* * * * *
The following day, when Vic returned to the shop he told Michele that he wanted to learn more about Wicca. Delighted, she smiled and led him to the classroom area. She lit three white candles on the card table between them.
“Before I answer your questions about Wicca . . .” She reached for Vic’s hand, turned it over and touched his palm. “May I?”
“May you what? Read my palm?”
“Yes. You’re not afraid of what I might find, are you?”
Vic chuckled. “I doubt you’ll see anything but calluses from playing golf. Do your worst.”
She glanced up at him as she probed his palm. “I’d rather do my best.”
“Do your best, then, and don’t spare my feelings if there’s any earth-shattering news.”
“The biggest earth-shattering news I have for you is that I’m quite good at this.”
“Sorry. I have an irreverent sense of humor. Otherwise I wouldn’t have any fun at all.”
&
nbsp; She noticed the teasing glint in his eye and shrugged before he could put a straight face back on. “Joke all you want, but I may surprise you.”
“Okay. I’ll try anything once,” he said.
She ran her fingers lightly over the mounds, planes and valleys of his immense hand. Were his hands always so warm? His mound of Venus between his thumb and wrist was plump and spoke of a deeply sensual nature. Hmm. She wouldn’t share that, but it was good to know.
“Your life line and career line are tied together, but you have a health line cutting across the two.”
Vic frowned and his chin disappeared into his shirt collar as he stared at his palm. “What does that mean?”
“There’s good and bad news here. First, your career is your life, but it’s negatively impacted by your health.”
She thought she saw him tense up, but his expression didn’t change. “Is this past or future, Michele?”
There it was again. That deep sexy voice saying her name. Each time she heard it, she wanted to relax against his solid chest and purr. What was it he’d asked? Oh, yeah. Past or future. “It looks like it may have already happened. It’s well before middle age.”
He snorted. “How old do you think I am?”
She shrugged.
“Can’t you count the bands around my wrist like you’d count the rings on a tree stump or something?”
She tried to put on her best “Don’t annoy me” expression, crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
With his knuckles now resting on the table, she traced a square on his palm with her fingernail and gave him the good news. “The intersections of these lines form a protection square. That means a loved one, someone who has passed on, is looking out for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You mean like someone I knew, who’s dead now, is watching over me?”
“Exactly.” She sensed a growing attentiveness, so she pressed on. “I see that you’re very independent and probably blazed your own trail. You didn’t go into the family business and didn’t get a whole lot of help from your family while establishing your career.”
He raised his eyebrows. “How can you tell that?”
She touched a spot above his thumb. “Here. There’s a pronounced space between your life line and the nearest line, your mentality line.”
“Hmm . . . and how’s my mentality line doin’?”
“Only good news.” Relief washed over her. “Your mentality line is long and strong with a downward slant. You use your creativity as well as your intelligence to achieve your goals. I’d say you have a good dose of intelligence from the looks of it.” And, he’s mentally stable, thank the Goddess!
“What else can you tell me?” His unblinking gaze seemed intensely focused on the lines in his palm, and his glib tone had disappeared.
She traced the long heart line. “You love deeply but don’t give your heart easily. It looks like one relationship has already ended in disappointment. There is one more, though.”
He cocked his head, and the side of his mouth curled up. “Only one more, huh? Better make it count, then.”
“I see two marriages. Don’t worry. The second one is very happy.”
“That’s interesting. I’d say you’re pretty good at this, except I won’t be getting remarried.”
Oh yeah? She tried to mirror his wry smile and released his hand. “Other than that, was I right?”
“I have to confess that you were right on the money about everything else. If it weren’t for athletic talent, I’d have been bagging groceries at my folks’ mom and pop store after high school. Actually, it was more of a pop store. Mom died when I was fifteen.”
“I’m sorry. My mother died when I was fifteen too. That’s a tough age to lose someone so important.”
“Where’s that protection square again?”
She reached over, took his hand, and retraced the four perpendicular lines. She thought she felt him shiver.
Vic squinted and stared at his hand as if looking for his mother’s face in the square. “If anyone was looking out for me, it would be my mother. I told her I wanted to be a professional football player. She always said I could become anything I wanted if I worked hard to achieve it. She was right.”
“How did you do it?”
“I earned a full football scholarship to The University of Michigan. I was a first round draft pick. Played back-up quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys and Miami Dolphins.”
Michele shrugged. “Yeah, whatever that means.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “It means I was very good. I was contracted by a professional team right out of college.”
“Your health line said that ill health was a problem with your job?”
“I was badly injured when I was sacked. It was the end of my promising professional football career.”
Her jaw dropped. “You were injured when they fired you?”
He reared his head back and laughed. The sound echoed around the room. He cleared his throat and seemed to be trying to compose himself. “No, Michele. Two big guys tackled me before I could throw the ball. It’s called a ‘sack’. It resulted in the kind of neck injury that ends an athlete’s career. They really frown on players with paralysis.”
She gasped. “You broke your neck?”
“Pretty much,” he said.
“I’m so sorry.” The thought of this big, vibrant man confined to a sickbed shook her.
“Yeah. Me too. And about that disappointment in my love life . . . I knew at an early age what I wanted to do. My ex-wife was my high-school sweetheart, and she knew it too. Even so, she complained about my endless trips away from home. Once I was crippled and stuck in one place she left me. I found out later she started up with another guy on the team shortly after the accident.” His expression dimmed. “As soon as I was able to work again, she sued for divorce and her lawyer convinced the judge that she was a displaced housewife, so I had to pay her alimony.”
Michele held his gaze. “That’s awful. I’m sorry you were treated like that.”
He shrugged, and then his eyes brightened. “I like the idea of the protection square. My mother was always looking out for me. She was completely dedicated to the family. Because I was raised with good, solid, mid-western values and taught to save for a rainy day, when it rained I was okay, financially. It took a year to fight my way back to health, and I still had enough left to start my business.” He stood up and reached for his wallet, signaling that he’d had enough sharing.
Michele stood too. “Put away your wallet. It’s on the house.”
“You’ll never make any money that way.”
“This wasn’t to make money. I wanted to get to know you before I taught you anything about Wicca. This stuff isn’t for everyone. I was told never to teach it to fools or vengeful idiots.”
“And I passed?”
“Yes. I’m impressed. You really turned something awful into something positive. That’s what Wiccan magic is about.”
He smiled, then stared at his feet while he stuffed his wallet away. “Yeah, I guess I did. Now I help out guys in similar situations. Sometimes their contracts don’t get picked up, or they’re diagnosed with something temporarily disabling and have to retire before the age of thirty. If you’re out of the game too long, it’s over. New young stars take over, and the fans, unless they’re extremely loyal, forget about the injured players long before they’ve fully recovered, especially us back-up guys.”
“How old were you when it happened, Vic?”
He sighed. “The tender age of twenty-five.”
Although she had just met him, Michele trusted her assessment of Vic. An amazing man, he didn’t seem bitter or even angry about his fate. Marriage was off the table maybe, but that didn’t concern her. He was worried about what was happening to her and ready to help for free. She couldn’t believe that with everything going on, all she wanted him for at the moment was sex. Naughty Michele.
; “Vic, I appreciate your time and what you’re trying to do. I want you to know that. I’m afraid I’m not myself right now, and I may seem bitchy. I don’t mean to be, okay?”
“That would be understandable, but you seem fine to me.” He chuckled. “I know what ‘bitchy’ looks like and you’re not it.”
“Well, thank you.” She stepped into his space to hug him. Michele had embraced a lot of people without feeling any more than a satisfying warmth. This was different. The physical magnetic pull she was experiencing told her to press her body closer to his.
He pulled her into an embrace she would never forget. Beginning somewhere in her core, it effervesced. More than a tingle, less than a lightning bolt. A hundred shooting flutters? Her breasts ached. Her womb clenched. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t speak. Desire boiled through her. It was unmistakable—the primal desire to mate.
Did Vic feel it too?
As much as she never wanted the contact to end, she pulled back to see his eyes. They were wide and intense. He stared at her as if in shock.
He angled his head and lowered his mouth toward hers. She must have looked frightened because he said, “Relax. I’m just going to kiss you.” He touched her jaw and drew her to him.
Her slightly parted lips met his in a tender kiss that flipped her heart. It filled her with long-awaited heat, as if the noon sun had broken through thick clouds.
Her lips parted further, granting him full access to her mouth. His tongue entered and sought hers. They swirled together in a sensuous waltz. He pulled away and his intake of breath created a vacuum. Her whole body screamed to be filled with him. His tongue found hers again. They continued to kiss uninhibitedly and there was only this moment. This free, hot-blooded moment. God help her. The only thing she wanted was to lie beside him.
“Vic,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Do you want me as much as I want you right now?”
He smiled and said in a throaty whisper, “More than oxygen.”
Chapter 3
She reached for his hands and placed them on her breasts. He massaged them. Erect nipples led to more thoughts of seduction. He cupped and squeezed her soft fullness and murmured in her ear. “Michele, I want to be sure we’re talking about the same thing.”
