A Ghostly Charm

by MJ Fredrick

  Maddy squealed and jumped back, pressing against his arm when the bookshelf slid back.

  “A secret passageway?” she said, too loud, in his ear.

  “Not anymore,” he muttered. With his free hand, he dug in his pocket for his keychain and flicked on the tiny flashlight attached. “You ready?”

  Her hand dampened in his and she shifted her grip, tightening her fingers around his. “Okay.” Her voice shook with excitement.

  Damn, he wanted to hear that shakiness in her voice when they were horizontal. She was right up against him, her breast against his arm, her chin over his shoulder.

  “I wanted to get you alone, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said.

  She eased back. “You wanted to get me into bed.”

  He paused. “A step in that direction, anyway.”

  “God.” The word held a world of contempt, and she let go of his hand.

  “I’m not what you’re thinking. I don’t—”

  “It doesn’t make a difference.” The contempt was replaced by resignation, as if she had suspected his low intentions from the beginning.

  “Maddy.” He held out his hand. “Stay with me, all right?”

  Maddy was pretty sure he was asking for more than closeness in this investigation, but until he gave her something else, something real, she couldn’t accept it. But she wasn’t taking a chance on getting lost back here. She took his hand. He gave a little grunt of approval before they moved on.

  “How did you know this was here?” she asked.

  “We used it last time to set up our stunts.”

  “So the bride wasn’t here last time.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why wasn’t she here?”

  “No idea.”

  “Do you think she’s back here now?”

  “I think if it’s not really a ghost, she could be doing the same thing we did.”

  “Then why can’t you see her when I can? Why can you feel her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She didn’t want to hear that. She wanted there to be an explanation for what she was seeing. “Encountering a real person in here, if they don’t want us to find them, could be more dangerous than seeing a ghost, then.”

  “Yep.”

  She edged closer, careful not to brush her breast against his arm like last time. No matter how good it felt.

  She felt him turn his head toward her. “I wouldn’t have brought you back here if I thought you could get hurt.”

  “I know.” She moved back, but not too far. “Where are we in the hotel, do you know?”

  He slowed, shone the flashlight up, then down. “Right over the bar, I think. Listen.”

  When they stopped, she could hear the sounds of laughter over the pounding of her own heart. She was in a secret passageway in a haunted house, looking for a ghost. How very Scooby Doo.

  How fun. When was the last time she’d had fun on a job?

  “You’re right,” she whispered, and either her admission or her giddy tone surprised him, because he glanced back at her before they continued on.

  “I wish I’d thought to bring a flashlight,” she murmured.

  “Why? So we could split up?”

  “Yours is kind of dinky.”

  “I’m not rising to that one,” he said with a chuckle.

  “What?”

  “About size.”

  “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have to be pressed against you like this.”

  “Did I give you the idea that I minded?”

  “Mal!” And then she plastered herself against him, making him stumble. “There!”

  “What?” He retrained the flashlight in front of them.

  “Do you see it? The flash of white?”

  “I don’t.” Frustration tightened his voice.

  She slid her hand along his arm, maneuvered the flashlight in the direction she’d seen the white, the bride’s skirt.

  “Now?” she asked.

  “No.” He blew out a hard breath.

  “Mal, she’s right there.”

  “I don’t see it!”

  She tilted his hand holding the flashlight up and found the bride’s face, watching them, a sad smile curving her lips.

  “Mal.” Maddy’s voice was choked. “She’s watching us.”

  “How far away?”

  “Maybe six feet.”

  “I don’t see her.”

  “She’s here, and she’s not faking.”

  “How do you know?”

  Didn’t he know how hard it was for her to form thoughts, much less words, when the transparent pale face and the dark empty eyes were watching her? Maddy tried to ease past him, to approach the bride, to ask her why, how, but Mal’s arm and the narrow passageway held her firmly behind him.

  “Why am I seeing you?” she whispered, but the bride turned and moved away.

  Maddy shoved at Mal’s shoulder. “Go! Go! Follow her!”

  “How can I follow something I can’t see?” But he moved forward anyway. Trusting her. She didn’t miss that. Or that she was pressed up against him again, so tight she could feel the movement of his muscles when he walked.

  “Left,” she murmured before he could ask.

  “Did she answer you when you spoke to her?”

  “No. She just gave me a sad little smile and turned away.”

  “But you can still see her.”

  “Kind of. She’s fading. Mal, why don’t you see her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The bride turned back to look at them, then disappeared through the wall.

  “She’s gone,” Maddy said, stopping and drawing on Mal’s arm to do the same. Anticipation drained from her like a plug had been pulled.

  Mal turned. “Why is it so important to you that I see her?”

  “So you’d believe me.”

  “I believe you. Didn’t I go where you told me?” She took that in for a moment. Was he serious,

  or was his goal still to get her into bed? She had to believe it was the latter or she risked being disappointed. Big time.

  “Now what? Do we try to find her again or do we give up?”

  “Justin is going to be wondering where we are. I wouldn’t call it giving up, though.”

  “All right. Which way?” She couldn’t mask her disappointment.

  “There are a couple of ways out. We passed one not too far back.”

  She edged up against the wall of the passageway to let him lead the way. He turned sideways to face her, to ease past her.

  Only he didn’t make it. His chest pressed against hers, his face only inches away.

  “Mal.”

  He grunted and shifted his hips, which bumped into hers.

  “Hey!”

  “I’m stuck,” he said through his teeth.

  She wiggled her hips side to side to ease away

  from him, but she was caught between two bracing two by fours.

  “That’s not helping,” he ground out.

  She froze, recognizing his arousal pushing against her belly.

  “Awkward,” he muttered.

  “How can we be stuck?” she asked, keeping her head lowered, though her arms were pinned against his chest, her palms flat against him. She could feel his heartbeat, steady but quick. “You aren’t claustrophobic, are you?”

  “Not yet. You?”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “No, not yet.”

  “Okay, what we need to do is relax. Once we relax, maybe we can wiggle out of here.”

  “I’m between two beams.”

  “Okay.” He looked around. “What we need to do is get thinner.”

  “I don’t think I really want to be in here that long.”

  “What I mean is,” he gripped her hips, “you need to get closer to me.”

  She cocked her head. “We’re not really stuck, are we? This is all part of your master plan to get me into bed.”

  “Trust me, my master plan included alcohol, long conv
ersations, and lots of kissing. No ghosts, no passageways, no getting stuck.”

  He sounded like he was having a hard time breathing. And she felt the evidence of a hard something, elsewhere.

  “You seem to be enjoying it in any case.”

  “Sweetheart, if I had you like this of your own free will, I would enjoy it.” His words rushed over her skin. “Right now my body’s just running away without me.”

  Hers too. Wow, she’d forgotten all about those nerves. And how lovely it felt to have a man all warm and firm against her. She had trouble forming the words. “And here I thought it was your mouth that usually did that.”

  “Ha. Now put your arms around my neck and slide up against me as close as you can.”

  Cautiously, she slid her arms free of their trap between their bodies and folded them around his neck, bringing her breasts high against his chest and her mouth up to his chin.

  “Don’t take this personally,” he said, and closed his hands over her ass.

  It was her turn to moan when he pressed her against his erection, which he didn’t seem to be able, or willing, to control.

  His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her bottom as he attempted to slide one way and push her another. She whimpered when her hip lodged against one of the beams.

  “Maybe if you got rid of that thing, we could get out of here,” she muttered.

  “It doesn’t help when you’re rubbing up against it.”

  “What am I supposed to do? I’m stuck!”

  He let his head fall back, and she heard it thunk against the wall. “So not how I wanted to spend tonight.”

  “Me, either.” She gave her hips an experimental twist.

  Mal groaned. “So much for getting that under control.”

  The devil in her wanted to move against him more, see how close to the edge she could bring him, see what he would do if she pushed him.

  What could he do? Pin her to the wall?

  She got a visual then, both of them naked, her legs around his hips, her arms around his bare shoulders, her breasts against his chest, his mouth against her throat.

  His mouth against her throat. Mm.

  “Maddy. Quit moving.” He put his hands on her hips to hold her still.

  Just like he’d do before he pushed inside her.

  “It’s getting hot in here,” she gasped.

  “I thought you said you weren’t claustrophobic.”

  “I’m not.” Until she started thinking about sex.

  “You could call Justin to get us out.”

  “Even if I could reach my phone, I probably wouldn’t get a signal. Besides, what would he do? Bring butter?”

  “Great. Now I’m hungry.”

  “Then maybe we should have gone down to get something to eat instead of chasing a ghost into the walls.”

  She scowled. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

  “I’m saying you have something to prove here.”

  If she hadn’t wanted to get away from him before, she was desperate to now. He saw too much. Of course he would have to be able to read people in this line of work, to know how far he could go. He’d gone too far with her.

  She squeezed back against the wall as far as she could and fought back. “I’d say I’m not the only one on this tour.”

  He didn’t deny it as she expected. “Some of us are better at hiding it.”

  Wow, he was good at making her defensive. “I’m very good at hiding things.”

  “Like being afraid.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek.

  She turned away from his touch. “I don’t think I hide that very well.”

  “I don’t know. You came out here to do a strange piece on your own, you make the best of the situation, hell, you take charge. I think you’re pretty damn incredible.”

  Part of her wanted to bask in his words. It had been so long since anyone had thought she was anything special. But her wiser side resisted his charm. “And we’re back to you trying to get me into bed.”

  He huffed out a frustrated breath. “If that’s what you want to think. But I know how you act, and that’s all I need to know.”

  Funny she couldn’t say the same. He definitely had his moments, all of them unexpected. And she suspected those were the moments he was really Mal. The real moments were the only thing she could let herself care about. When she shouldn’t care anything about him at all.

  Even if he made her feel safe.

  When he wasn’t making every nerve in her body hum.

  “So we get out of here, what’s our next step?”

  “Check in with Justin, see if he found out why this could be happening now. I think we need to get some sleep and regroup, and then we should meet at breakfast, send everyone else home, and figure out how to stop this.”

  “Why not just walk away?”

  “I don’t think we can. What if I’m responsible?”

  “For ghosts? How can you be responsible for ghosts? And that is a question I never thought I’d ask.”

  “I don’t know. Something is different on this tour, and if I can change it back, I’m going to.”

  “I think you’ve been watching too many scary movies,” she said, dismissively.

  Mal opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. Whatever she wanted to believe, as long as she held still.

  But in all this mustiness, he still smelled her, the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin. That didn’t help him quell his desire. He wanted nothing more than to lower his head and nuzzle her neck.

  Okay, he wanted something more, but he wanted to indulge himself. He just didn’t know if she’d punch him.

  It was almost worth the risk.

  “My legs are getting tired. We need to get out of here.”

  “Any thoughts?” he asked.

  “Maybe if you lift me up.” She braced one hand on one of the two by fours but couldn’t reach the other. They were too close together. “Or maybe if I slide down.”

  Oh, yes, please. His eyes rolled back in his head at the idea. “Won’t work.” Damn it. “I’ll push you up. Brace yourself against the wall, okay?”

  She did as she was told. He slid his hands under her thighs and lifted. She tried to help, wriggling upward, which only made his arms turn to noodles when all his blood rushed to his groin, and she didn’t gain an inch.

  He, however—“Maddy. Just let me,” he said through his teeth. “For God’s sake, hold still.”

  She gave another wiggle that nearly had him swallowing his tongue. Damn if she didn’t do it on purpose. Everything in him wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

  But he didn’t want their first kiss to be like that. He wanted to go slow with her. If he gave into his hunger now, this would be his only shot. With any other woman, it might be enough.

  He wouldn’t pursue that until he got out of here, so he lifted and she slid up his body. Shifting his grip to her ass, he folded his arms at the tops of her thighs so her hips rested against his chest, even with his shoulders, and he felt more freedom of movement. He could edge past her now. She braced her hands on his shoulders, waiting. He could see the bare skin of her belly where her shirt was pushed up, then immediately wondered why he could see it.

  The flare of the flashlight registered mere seconds before Justin’s voice.

  “What the hell are you two doing?”

  Mal shifted her then, set her behind him and edged through the passageway toward his partner, drawing her with him.

  “We got stuck.”

  Even in the dim light from the hallway, he could see Justin quirk his brows in doubt.

  “Seriously.” He reached his friend and the passage opening, and was surprised at his relief to breathe in fresh air.

  “Dude, we have work to do, and you’re playing around in a secret passageway.”

  “Maddy saw her. We followed her back in here.”

  “Maddy saw—” Justin looked past Mal to Maddy.

  She opened her mouth to an
swer, but he ran right over her.

  “Did you see it?” he asked Mal.

  “No.”

  “But you did.” He turned back to Maddy.

  “Hard to believe, I know.”

  “Why were you looking for us? Did you find out something?” Mal interrupted. He’d never felt jealous of his friend before, but Justin and Maddy seemed to have some kind of connection. Not romantic or sexual, but a kind of understanding, like they knew something he didn’t.

  He hated that feeling almost as much as he hated the jealousy.

  “Yeah, actually. I found a thermal image of the bride on the bed in your room.”

  “Let’s get to work then,” Mal said, starting down the hall. “Think room service is still on?”

  “Dude, you weren’t in there that long.”

  Maddy watched the men retreat, listened to their banter with an odd longing. She didn’t know whether to follow or excuse herself and go to her own room. Part of her wanted to retreat, regain her composure and balance after being pressed up against Mal all that time. He hadn’t made a move on her. She had to figure out if she was relieved or disappointed. It certainly hadn’t been that he didn’t want her. Perhaps he was attracted to her body, but not her personality.

  As if that would stop someone like Mal.

  Part of her wanted to go with the men, to be included in their discussion, their decisions, their findings. It had been so long since she’d been included in something. Part of it was her fault for choosing the solitary job of a reporter. Part of it was taking that job at her family’s magazine. Because, while she was still a reporter, she was also related to the boss, and people kept at a distance because of it.

  She needed the distance from these two.

  Mal turned. “You coming?”

  She balked, then chickened out. “No, I’m going to go back to my room. Wash the cobwebs out of my hair.” She fluffed it in emphasis.

  “Come on. You said you were hungry. And you know you want to see what Justin found.”

  She was tugged toward him by those words, but resisted. “I’ll let the two of you go over it and catch up in the morning.”

  He moved back down the hall toward her. “That shows a deplorable lack of reporterly curiosity.”

  “I’m fresh out.” For now, she needed to figure out how to get to her room on the other side of Mal’s, gracefully. If she walked down the hall with them, Mal would be persuasive, and she already felt vulnerable.